The drums of war in the Middle East have always carried a long echo. They are beating again and, by the time they reach a petrol station in a sun-baked town in northern Kenya, or a gas depot in Kigali, they will have turned into life-ruining numbers that strike East African pockets and stomachs, with deadly force.

On February 28, the world changed. The US and Israel began a huge aerial and missile campaign against Iran. Against all the pundits who thought Tehran would collapse in a week, the conflict is now heading into its second month. Iran has hit back at targets in Israel and in US-allied oil states such as the UAE and Qatar.

Most importantly for us, the Strait of Hormuz has been blocked, cutting the supply of fuel, gas and fertilisers.

If this fight lasts six months, let alone a year, East Africa will face a very painful squeeze.

To grasp the risks ahead, look at the map. Since 1945, the US has attacked or fought in more than 30 countries. Yet Iran is a different challenge. It is battle-hardened, having survived the high-casualty war with Iraq, which lasted from September 1980 to August 1988 (and in which the US backed Iraq).

It is the biggest nation the US has ever attacked in open combat since the Second World War. At 1.65 million square kilometres, it is four times the size of Iraq and 5.2 times the size of Vietnam.

With 92 million people, it is the most populous foe the US has faced since the Korean War in the 1950s, although then the real burden fell on China and its 550 million people.

Iran is also a natural fortress. Some 55 percent of the country is mountainous, rising to 90 percent once you add the high central plateau. If the US sends in ground troops, the Iranians, who know every valley, will welcome it. It would be a tactical nightmare that points to a long and bitter struggle.

So, what does a six-month war mean for an East African household? Global Brent crude is already pushing toward $120 a barrel, almost double the January average of $64. In the worst case of drawn-out blockades, experts warn of a 40 percent rise in landed costs.

For a Kenyan driver, a litre of premium petrol that averaged Ksh190 ($1.47) in January could easily pass Ksh260 ($2) by June. In Uganda, where the landlocked penalty always bites harder, the present Ush5,500 ($1.45) a litre will race toward Ush7,500 ($1.98). That is a 35-45 percent jump from the calm before the storm.

The kitchen is where the war really strikes. Cooking gas is mostly a Middle Eastern product. A 13-kilogram cylinder that cost about Ksh2,800 (and USh110,000) in January is about to become a luxury.

Prices are set to rise by at least 50 percent. Many families will switch to charcoal, which will speed up deforestation just when we are trying to protect forests.

Electricity will let us down, too. Although we have made progress with geothermal and hydro, diesel-fired thermal plants still cover peak demand.

In South Sudan or Burundi, where diesel is the main fuel, bills could carry a 30 percent surcharge. Even flying will feel heavier; a Nairobi-to-Entebbe ticket will soon cost what a flight to Dubai once did.

On the farms, the picture is darker still. Middle Eastern urea and phosphates keep our maize and tea alive. If fertiliser supplies stay blocked for a few more months, prices will double. When a bag reaches Ksh10,000 ($77.19), the farmer plants less or skips the nutrients. Six months on, food prices, already raised by transport costs, could climb another 25 percent.

Then come the obscure casualties. Nearly all our plastic basins and jerrycans are made from petrochemical resins. When oil surges, the price of a simple bucket in Nairobi’s Gikomba or Kampala’s Owino will rise by 30 percent.

Education will pay a war tax because the chemicals for paper bleaching and printing ink depend on oil. Your children’s textbooks are about to cost far more.

Even the local bar is not safe. It is not the beer, but the bottle. Glassmaking uses huge amounts of energy. The conflict will show up in the price of a cold drink. Mobile money agents, hit by higher costs, will quietly raise withdrawal fees to stay afloat.

Yet there is one bright spot. War usually kills tourism. But, as the Gulf turns into a no-go area, East Africa could become the world’s safe and exotic choice.

Some rich travellers who once headed to Dubai or Qatar may now come here. If we handle it well, we could see an inflow of “geopolitical refugees” from the luxury markets of the North.

For the ordinary citizen, however, the sums are harsh. Economists reckon these increases will take roughly 25 percent more from the average household’s disposable income. That means “meat day” shifts from once a week to once a month. It means a daughter misses school because the bus fare has doubled.

We watch a war in a far-off land, yet we are about to pay heavily for it at every meal and every journey. The tragedy of the Global South is that we remain silent partners in every Northern conflict, always collecting the dividends in the form of our own hunger.

Charles Onyango-Obbo is a journalist, writer and curator of the Wall of Great Africans. X@cobbo3 © Copyright 2026 Nation Media Group. All Rights Reserved. Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc. (Syndigate.info).