Divided Board, Silenced Employees and Entrenched Misconduct: Insiders Reveal the Full Extent of Harassment and Leadership Failures at Unaitas Sacco

When reports first began circulating about sexual harassment, victimisation and financial impropriety at Unaitas Sacco Nakuru branch, many assumed the matter was an isolated incident of a single rogue manager operating in a single town. 

But as dust continues to settle, a far more troubling picture is slowly emerging from the shadows.

This newsroom has since received a torrent of confidential complaints from current and former employees across multiple branches, painting a portrait of an institution where dysfunction is not the exception but the rule, and where the rot extends far beyond the walls of one branch office.

The reports against Joseph Thiong'o, the Nakuru Branch Manager who was promoted to Head of Branch Banking and Consumer Lending despite the gravity of complaints against him acted as a catalyst, as sources from at least seven different branches have come forward to reveal new layers of institutional dysfunction that they say have been festering for years.

Widespread Toxic Culture

The most damning revelation emerging from the flood of new complaints is that the conduct attributed to Thiong'o is not a singular anomaly. 

According to multiple sources who spoke to this publication on condition of anonymity, the patterns of harassment, intimidation, and victimisation are systemic, woven into the fabric of the institution's operations across its expansive network of 31 branches nationwide.

An employee from the Cardinal Otunga Plaza branch in Nairobi, situated in the heart of the capital just steps from the Holy Family Basilica, described a workplace environment where staff are routinely subjected to psychological pressure and verbal abuse from their supervisors. 

"The culture here is not about serving members but the egos of those above you," the source told us.

"Never question a decision. If you do, you are marked. They do not fire you outright but they make your life so unbearable that you resign on your own."

The employee went on to describe a pattern of late-night and weekend work that mirrors the reports made at the Nakuru branch, saying that staff are frequently required to remain at their desks well beyond 8:00 p.m., often without additional compensation or even acknowledgment of their sacrifice. 

"We have lives outside this place but none of that matters to them."

At the Kawangware branch, located along Naivasha Road in Nairobi, a source echoed similar sentiments, adding that the pressure to meet unrealistic performance targets has created an atmosphere of constant fear. 

"If you do not meet your target, you are called into the manager's office and shouted at like a schoolchild," the source said.

The complaint from Kawangware also touches on a theme that has recurred throughout the new testimonies: the perception that career advancement is determined not by merit but by personal connections and loyalty to senior management.

The Scale of the Problem

With 31 branches spanning from Nairobi's central business district to Meru, Kisumu, Eldoret, Mombasa, and beyond, the sheer scale of the institution's footprint makes the allegations all the more disturbing. 

Unaitas Sacco is presiding over a workplace culture that has inflicted untold suffering on hundreds of employees across the country.

An employee from the Thika branch, who has been with the institution for more than a decade, described the psychological toll of working under such conditions, comparing the experience to walking on eggshells every single day. 

She told this newsroom that she has witnessed colleagues break down in tears during routine meetings, and that some have developed stress-related illnesses that they are too terrified to report for fear of being labelled as weak or unfit for duty.

An insider at the Embu branch informed us that the problem has worsened in recent years, as the institution has expanded its branch network without corresponding investment in human resource capacity or employee welfare programs. 

"The leadership does not care about the people who build this institution. They only care about the numbers, the profit and the prestige. We are expendable to them."

A source from Kisumu branch made particularly damning revelations that the culture of impunity is so deeply entrenched that even the most egregious misconduct is tolerated so long as it comes from a well-connected manager. 

"There are managers who have sexually harassed female staff, who have falsified documents, who have misused member funds and they are still here, still in their positions, still being protected," the source claimed.

At the Eldoret branch, an employee who requested anonymity described a "climate of silence" in which staff are actively discouraged from raising concerns through official channels.

"If you report a problem to HR, you become the problem. The system is designed to protect the people at the top, not the people at the bottom. We have all learned that the hard way."

A Divergent Board and a Silent Leadership

Sources within the institution's upper echelons have described a board that is deeply divided, with some members purportedly appalled by the revelations and others determined to protect the status quo at all costs.

The board, which includes Chairman Michael Mureithi, Vice-Chairman Ernest Muibu, CEO Martin Muhoho, and members James Macharia, James Kinoro, Frashiah Kamuri, Francis Mburu, Pius Macharia, Peter Kamangara, and Peter Kuria, has been the subject of intense internal debate over how to handle the mounting allegations.

One source, who has direct knowledge of boardroom deliberations, told this newsroom that the board has been formally informed of the complaints, both those from Nakuru and the newer grievances emerging from branches across the country, but has failed to act decisively, choosing instead to bury the issues in committee discussions and deferrals, with matters being shuttled between sub-committees until they quietly expire.

"The board is split, that is true," the source said.

"But the ones who want to do the right thing have no power. They are outnumbered, and they are drowned out by the ones who have been in this institution for too long and have too much to lose. The culture is protected from within, and it is very difficult to dismantle a structure that is designed to protect itself."

This internal inertia has created a palpable sense of disillusionment among employees, many of whom believe that their complaints will never be taken seriously. Not by management, not by the board, and not even by regulators, given the institution's apparent political connections and public relations machinery.

"It is hopeless," another employee from the Nairobi office lamented.

"We know that nothing will change because the people who are supposed to change it are the ones benefiting from the way things are."

Misuse of Funds at the Highest Levels

The new wave of complaints has also given voice to long-simmering allegations that some senior executives have been living lavishly at the institution's expense, using member funds to finance personal travel, luxury shopping, and other indulgences while rank-and-file employees struggle to make ends meet on salaries that have remained stagnant for years.

An insider from the head office, speaking on condition of anonymity, described a culture of conspicuous consumption among certain members of the leadership team. 

"You see them flying first class, staying in five-star hotels, dining at expensive restaurants," the source said. 

"Meanwhile, the people who actually work hard, who go into the branches and serve members, are earning salaries that barely cover rent and groceries. The disconnect is enormous and it breeds resentment."

The source went on to report that some executives often use institutional vehicles and resources for personal use and that many business trips have been flagged internally as having little to do with the institution's interests. 

"There is no accountability. Nobody asks questions because everyone is afraid of losing their position. If you ask too many questions, you are marked for elimination."

These claims have been echoed by several other sources who pointed to the visible disparities in lifestyle between the institution's top leadership and its frontline employees. 

"The managers are living like kings and queens and we are living like peasants," one employee from the Murang'a branch told this newsroom.

"It is demoralizing. It makes you feel like you are not valued, like your effort does not matter."

The Human Cost

Perhaps the most devastating aspect of these revelations is the human toll they have taken on the individuals who have been forced to endure such conditions. 

Multiple sources have described colleagues who have broken down under the weight of relentless pressure, some of whom have required medical treatment for stress-related conditions, and others who simply resigned, often with no notice and no explanation.

"We have seen people who were so brilliant, so talented, just wither away," one source from the Kasarani branch said. 

"They come in bright and enthusiastic, and within a few months, they are shells of themselves. The constant criticism wears you down."

The emotional impact extends beyond the workplace itself, with several sources describing how the strain of their jobs has affected their personal relationships, their health, and their overall quality of life. 

"I have come home crying more times than I can count," one employee admitted. 

"I have been unable to sleep, unable to eat properly. I have developed high blood pressure that my doctor attributes directly to stress. And there is nothing I can do about it because I need this job to survive."

Need for Independent Investigation

As the complaints continue to mount, this newsroom understands that the legal team that was preparing to challenge Thiong'o's promotion is now considering expanding the scope of any potential litigation to encompass broader grievances, including the systemic failures of the institution to protect employees from harassment, discrimination, and retaliation.

The Constitution of Kenya, 2010, and the Employment Act, 2007, are unambiguous in their protection of employees' rights to dignity, fair treatment, and freedom from discrimination and harassment. 

However, for the employees who are still trapped within the institution, the prospect of legal action offers limited comfort. 

What they seek is a cultural transformation. 

A fundamental change in the way the institution treats its people and governs its operations.

"We want them to change. We want them to stop treating us like we are disposable. We want to be able to work without fear, without humiliation, without the constant threat of retaliation. Is that too much to ask?"

The Institution's Silence

Despite repeated attempts to obtain a response from Unaitas Sacco's leadership regarding the allegations raised in this exposé, the institution has remained conspicuously silent. 

Neither the Managing Director, the Board Chairman, nor the Head of Human Resources has issued any public statement addressing the matter, nor have they responded to our inquiries.

That silence, sources say, is itself telling. "They have nothing to say because they know the allegations are true, and they do not know how to defend the indefensible," one insider said.

Another source speculated that the institution's leadership may be banking on the passage of time to bury the story, hoping that public attention will shift and the allegations will eventually fade from the spotlight. 

"They think that if they stay quiet, people will forget. But they are wrong. We will not forget, and we will not stop speaking out until something changes."

A Call for Regulators and Government Intervention

The growing body of evidence pointing to systemic failures at Unaitas Sacco has led to renewed calls for intervention from regulators, including the Kenya Union of Savings and Credit Co-operatives (KUSCCO) and the Cooperative Alliance of Kenya, as well as from government ministries responsible for cooperative development.

The recurring theme throughout the dozens of complaints this newsroom has received is that Unaitas Sacco has developed an internal culture of self-preservation that systematically protects those in power and marginalises those who dare to speak out.

"It does not matter how serious the allegation is," one employee from the Temple Road branch said. 

"If you are a manager, you are protected. If you are an ordinary employee, you are expendable. The system is rigged, and it is rigged from the top."

This culture, sources say, extends to the institution's human resources department, which is supposed to act as a neutral arbiter but is instead accused of functioning as a shield for management.

"HR is not there to help you," one source said bluntly. 

"They are there to protect the institution. When you go to HR with a complaint, they do not investigate it. They log it, and then they find a way to make your life difficult. If you persist, you are transferred. If you continue to persist, you are pushed out entirely. That is how it works."

A Ray of Hope: Whistleblowers Are Speaking

Despite the pervasive fear and intimidation, there is a glimmer of hope in the fact that so many current and former employees have chosen to speak out. 

The courage displayed by these individuals, many of whom are risking their livelihoods by coming forward, is a testament to their frustration and their determination to see change.

"We are not doing this for ourselves," one employee said. 

"We are doing this for the people who come after us. We are doing this for the young women who will be hired tomorrow and who will be forced to endure the same abuse that we have endured. We want them to have a better experience than we did. We want them to be able to work without fear."

Another source expressed a similar sentiment, saying that the stories shared with this newsroom are intended to serve as a wake-up call, not just to Unaitas Sacco, but to the broader cooperative sector and to the regulators who are supposed to oversee it.

"Something is deeply wrong at this institution, and it has been wrong for a long time," the source said. 

"We are exposing it not because we want to destroy Unaitas, but because we want to save it. If the people in charge refuse to address these problems, the institution will eventually collapse under its own weight. And we will not be there to pick up the pieces."

What Comes Next?

As the story continues to unfold, this newsroom has learned that additional whistleblower reports are being compiled, and that the legal team pursuing the matter is in the process of gathering evidence from multiple branches. 

The institution's leadership has been given multiple opportunities to respond to the allegations, and they have chosen to remain silent.

The questions that demand answers are numerous: Was Thiong'o's promotion based on merit, or was it a reward for loyalty and silence? Why have complaints from multiple branches been ignored? What is the board doing to address the allegations? Is there an independent investigation underway? Will regulators step in and hold the institution accountable?

For now, these questions remain unanswered, and the employees who have spoken out remain in a state of vulnerability, hoping that their courage will translate into action.