It started off like any normal travel day. Get up, hustle through morning traffic to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA), put on a game face as one goes through the first vehicular security check at the main entrance to JKIA, reset the game face as one goes through the second security check at the entrance to Terminal 1D, then reboot the by‑now non‑existent game face as one goes through the third security check at Terminal 1D, and finally sit in blessed relief on a plastic chair sipping coffee. My Malindi flight was at 10:45hrs but, being time‑pedantic, I had gotten to the airport by 08:00hrs so that I could do some work on my laptop.

I was so engrossed in my work that I didn’t notice the seats around me had filled up and people were milling in groups along the poorly ventilated corridors. The collective body heat and mounting anxiety jolted me out of my work reverie. There was a problem. The announcement came over the speakers: flights were delayed due to industrial action by the Kenya Aviation Workers Union. By the end of that day, a few lessons in corporate politics had been imparted on the thousands of travellers flying into and out of JKIA.

Lesson One: The Small Guy Is Actually the Big Guy

At about 11:00hrs, the 07:30hrs first flight to Malindi was called. Passengers were told to prepare to board but instructed to use the bathrooms first, as the toilet facilities on the plane would not be available. So a few hightailed it to the bathroom. Passengers, including a number of my colleagues, got ready to board the airplane parked on the tarmac right in front of us next to several other idle planes. Boarding started at 12:30hrs, ninety minutes past the first call to board. Those who had used the bathroom consequently had to go again. (It’s an airline industry safety rule: once the plane begins taxiing, the toilet facilities cannot be used until the plane is airborne.)

The plane left its parking bay and moved to the runway. Then it sat there for another solid two hours before being given clearance to take off around 14:30hrs, and those with weak bladders, stretched to their biological limit, could finally stumble to the commode for relief. The same experience was happening for a few of the other international flights that were eventually given a green light to leave.

On this day, travellers through JKIA learnt that it is the air traffic controller who gives the necessary green lights for passenger boarding, for planes to taxi to the runway, and eventually for planes to approach the runway for take‑off. Interestingly, you never see the air traffic controllers, but they see you. And they control each and every step of your trip, including when and how you will use toilet facilities. Sit with that for a while.

Lesson Two: JKIA is a Venn Diagram

I met senior Kenya Airports Authority (KAA) staff walking around the terminal while literally stepping over prostrate passengers lying on the floor to ensure there was some level of order in the chaos. The unflappable Kenya Airways and Jambo Jet staff at Terminal 1D were the picture of patience, with frustrated passengers screaming at them, and around them, all day. What we saw was the benefit of crisis management training checking in.

By 19:00hrs, our 10:45hrs flight, together with dozens of other flights, was cancelled and we were told to come back the next day. But I was suffering from post‑traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and the thought of spending a second day at the airport made me gag a little in the back of my throat. Without speaking to each other, a large number of us found ourselves at the SGR Terminus catching the 22:00hrs train to Mombasa. The conspicuous airline tags still attached to our luggage were the dead giveaway of our shared victimhood, and we gave each other silent nods of acceptance of our fate: in the face of a travel crisis, find the option that keeps you moving.

I have to give it to the air traffic controllers. They won. Hands down. They picked the week when schools were on mid‑term with both domestic and international tourist travel at a high peak. They delayed incoming flights, putting many on a holding pattern waiting to land. They delayed outbound flights, ensuring that passengers on the few flights that departed sat on the tarmac in hot, sweaty cabins with no toilet facilities allowed while awaiting departure. They got the attention of the bigwigs in the national government, bigly.

On Monday February 16th 2026, JKIA was an unmitigated disaster, and the knock‑on financial and operational effects on the airlines flying out of there as well as the stress on the KAA management was unprecedented. My key takeaway was this: never, ever underestimate the role of a hitherto invisible employee in an ecosystem. They can bring down an entire interconnected economic zone—with a snap of their fingers.

X: @carolmusyoka

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