Kenyans should stop selling themselves short

This week I had the distinct privilege of sitting and sharing experiences with experts and practitioners in the field of fiscal decentralisation from diverse countries ranging from Tajikistan (population 8 million) to India (population 1.2 billion). Coming in amid the much-publicised problems in Kenya’s Coast and the threatened tsunami on Saba Saba, I must admit I found myself lacking my traditional exuberance for broadcasting my Kenyanness. That was until the discussions on the experiences of other countries on fiscal decentralisation commenced.

As I listened to what others had accomplished and the challenges they were undergoing, I found myself jivunianing being a Kenyan. I suddenly realised for all our faults, and we have many, we have accomplished, through our new Constitution and the laws enacted thereunder, a decentralisation framework that many countries can only dream of. As I listened to others’ experiences, I was reminded just how contested devolution is in all countries.

Few countries not managing severe post-conflict situations manage to put together comprehensive reforms that devolve political, administrative and fiscal power at one go.

In the case of Kenya, however, the 2010 Constitution managed to provide the framework for these three elements of devolution at one fell swoop during relative peacetime.

On March 2, 2013, we had gone to sleep a fully centralised system. The next day we had abolished our centralised system and set up fairly strong devolved units. More importantly, we had given the most contentious aspect of devolution, fiscal devolution, significant constitutional grounding, constitutionalising a minimum allocation of revenue to devolved governments, and creating constitutional institutions to protect these nascent devolved units.

Obviously the greatest value in these changes will be in their effectiveness. One year down the road, the jury remains out on the cost-benefit impact of the changes they have wrought. But as I listened to other countries experiences, I realised that we had accomplished a historical feat. What saddened me was that Kenya has failed to sell its successes in this area just like it had failed in so many others.

I listened to the stories from countries where we go for bench marking and realised that in many aspects, we were way ahead. But listening to the average Kenyan you would never know!

I wondered what ails us that we are the loudest in selling our failures but so reluctant to exhibit our successes.

As I shared the story of how we had gone “big bang” in devolving health, roads and agriculture and how the provision of services had at the worst stayed the same, many were amazed. I could, however, sense their skepticism in view of what they “knew” about Kenya.

As people shared about the vicious fights that accompany the process of revenue division, I found it impossible to explain that Kenya had actually managed to peacefully, and with significant consensus, agree on the revenue division between the two levels of government in just the second year of devolution.

This reality was so distant from the script that people know about ever squabbling Kenyans. I could see doubters as I shared my stories of visiting West Pokot, Marsabit, Bomet and seeing roads in places that had not seen them for 50 years, within the first year of devolution.

What was more believable about Kenya was a report placing Kenya amongst the 25 most fragile states, consigning the country to the same club as Syria with its nine million refugees and war torn Somalia. It was impossible to explain to anyone not living in Kenya just how that assessment is far from reality.

In light of our own avowed commitment to selling ourselves short, exhibiting our worst side and playing down our achievements, every ounce of bad news about us is believable. Where did the rain start to beat us? Was it seeing our country through polarised political lenses? What will it take for us to celebrate our joint successes even as we robustly critique our failures?

For as long as we remain unwilling to affirm ourselves to the world, the world will keep ignoring and even worse, shoving us aside. The price we will continue to pay is immeasurable.