How Kroger Chickened Out in Cincinnati

It sounds like a fever dream. But it’s what really happens when a dedicated organizing team has three weeks to plan an action, a stack of hand-drawn sketches, and a clear mission: make sure Kroger can’t ignore its broken promise to hens.

A promise made a promise broken

In 2016, Kroger—the nation’s largest traditional grocery chain—made a public commitment to transition to 100% cage-free eggs by 2025.

Well, it’s late 2026 now. So the hens in Kroger’s supply chain should be out of wire battery cages, right?

Wrong. Instead, Kroger quietly scaled back its promise to just 70% cage-free by 2030.

While other big retailers like Ahold Delhaize kept their word and completed their transitions, Kroger decided that the promise it made to millions of shoppers—and to the 15 million hens trapped in its supply chain—could wait.

But it can’t. Waiting’s not an option for the hens. Or for the people who showed up in Cincinnati this September.

From Germany to Cincinnati: planning a protest in real time

The spark for what became the “March of the Chickens” started weeks before anyone set foot in Ohio. While traveling in Germany, one of THL’s organizers, Jones, knew the team had less-than-ideal lead time. She also knew that every detail mattered. So she hand-sketched custom T-shirt designs on paper, which were later used for march apparel.

Meanwhile, our other organizing lead, Olive, started scoping out protest locations. She organized a storage unit for supplies, made some pre-trip calls, and led hotel briefings on campaign strategy and protest etiquette.

(She also ordered vegan birthday cakes to celebrate not one but two team birthdays on the ground—one of which was Jones. To us, showing up means more than just organizing a protest. It means creating spaces where people can align their values with their actions. Where organizers protect the safety of volunteers. Where the people who traveled to take action with us—the ones who make this movement move—deserve our recognition and appreciation.)

When our team arrived in Cincinnati for Kroger’s 2026 Momentum Conference—a two-day event at the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center in downtown Cincinnati, where executives and retail leaders gathered to map out the company's future—THL organizer Drea got us ready to roll. She kicked off the first action with an energizing warm-up, walked activists through the tactical schedule, and assigned roles—all things Drea excels at. Call it a subtle superpower that ensures our events run smoothly.

Then Jones led an in-depth megaphone tutorial and condensed Know Your Rights training for newer activists. The team was ready.

The Chickens Hit the Streets

When the march began on Monday, Cincinnati took notice. How could it not when more than 20 giant inflatable chickens started marching street by street through downtown?

One of the people who stumbled on the march was a vegan ultramarathoner named Harvey Lewis, who has 166,000 followers on social media. But he didn’t just watch. Lewis suited up, joined the flock for over an hour, then posted a video—which racked up more than 103,000 views.

Local teenagers stopped too, awestruck, and asked to join the protest in costume. One took home an “End Cages” sign to remind her of the hens and inspire her to stay involved.

Then several straight days of media coverage began. First, The Cincinnati Enquirer showed up, with cameras rolling. Reporters posted a three-minute video feature to the newspaper’s website and published a photo gallery on Instagram. Then Fox 19 TV covered the action. And radio hosts discussed it during morning drive time. An opinion piece ran in the Enquirer that stated it plainly: “If you make a public commitment, people are entitled to ask why you failed to keep it.”

We couldn’t agree more.

Kroger Was Visibly Sweating

Best of all was Kroger’s reaction.

The company erected massive barricades outside its conference venue. But the plan backfired. Police confirmed that activists could stand behind the barricades on private property, which actually put the protest closer to the executives than the public sidewalk would have. Our team decorated those barricades with signs, turning Kroger’s defensive move into a backdrop for their message.

After media outlets published the protest plans, Momentum Conference organizers canceled their off-site restaurant reservations, lost their deposits, and resorted to catering inside the venue.

That’s when we confronted Kroger leadership face-to-face, including executives like Milen Mahadaven. We called out brand CEOs by name. When activists used megaphones, executives on the venue balcony retreated inside. The pressure was impossible to ignore.

The Day After

On Tuesday, we followed up with more actions aimed squarely at Kroger’s execs.

First, we staged a mock conference in which activists dressed in “money suits,” posing as Kroger speakers—a pointed commentary on a company that talks about momentum while leaving millions of animals behind.

Then we made sure our replicas of stacked battery cages—crates overflowing with stuffed chickens, a visceral reminder of the cramped, miserable conditions hens endure in battery cages—was firmly in place.

We also applied fake blood to props for a parody of Happy Hour. Banners, signs, megaphones, and drums made sure the message carried far beyond the conference walls.

Even Censorship Backfired

After the Momentum Conference protests generated national headlines, our team planned a family-friendly educational installation at Cincinnati’s upcoming BLINK Festival—a massive public art event that happens to be sponsored by Kroger.

We filed all the necessary paperwork properly. It was approved. We were even listed on BLINK’s website.

Then, without explanation, our invitation was rescinded.

So we adapted. We brought our installation to the streets anyway—complete with an LED-equipped inflatable chicken lighting up the night.

The Cincinnati Enquirer assigned three journalists to cover the censorship story. The headline practically wrote itself. BLINK and Kroger ended up with more negative press coverage from trying to silence the message than they would have received if they’d just let the booth happen.

The Ultimate Testament: Activists Leading Themselves

By Wednesday morning, we’d walked over 12 miles and operated around the clock. We were bushed. We figured the activists deserved to rest. So our organizing team decided to cancel the 6:45 a.m. wake-up action we’d planned.

But the volunteers had other plans. They were so energized that they took the initiative, waking up early and running the entire protest independently.

That’s the moment you know a movement has real power—when the people you’re organizing alongside don’t need you to lead them anymore. They’ve got it.

What This Means for Hens—and for You

Right now, millions of hens in Kroger’s supply chain are still trapped in battery cages so small they can’t spread their wings. They can’t perch, nest, or dust-bathe either. Like every animal, these hens deserve to be able to perform their normal natural behaviors. They deserve better than broken promises.

What happened in Cincinnati proved something essential: When people show up with creativity, determination, and a willingness to disrupt business as usual, corporations have to respond. Kroger execs couldn’t ignore the chickens marching through their conference city. They couldn’t silence the message by canceling a festival booth. And they couldn’t make the media stop asking questions.

That happened because people like you showed up. Some put on inflatable chicken suits or held megaphones. Some flooded Kroger’s social media channels remotely, as part of the Fast Action Network. And some donated to make sure the team had the resources to pull off a multi-day action on short notice.

Every single one of those actions mattered.

Kroger Still Hasn’t Kept Its Word

The company has had years to make this right. Other major grocers have proven it’s not only possible—it’s the bare minimum standard for a company that wants to claim it cares about transparency and responsibility.

At this point the cage-free movement has secured more than 2,600 commitments from companies to spare hens from cages. Nearly half the US egg-laying flock is now cage-free. Clearly the industry is moving. And Kroger has chosen to stay behind.

Company executives like to talk about “delivering value for customers.” But what value is there in a promise they won’t keep? Or in trapping millions of hens in cages so small they can’t even turn around?

Hens deserve a life free from that kind of extreme confinement. Shoppers deserve to know what they’re paying for. And Kroger deserves to be held accountable until it honors the commitment it made nearly a decade ago.

The Next Step Is Yours

This campaign isn’t over. The chickens will keep showing up until Kroger keeps its word.

You can be part of that. Join the Fast Action Network to take quick digital actions when they matter most. Share this story so more people understand what Kroger is hiding behind its marketing. If you’re in or near Cincinnati—or any city where Kroger operates—please consider joining a local action.

Because here’s what Cincinnati proved: When people refuse to be ignored—when they bring creativity and courage to the streets, and when they won’t let a corporation quietly walk back its promises—they win.

The chickens are already planning their next move. Are you ready to join them?