How mediocrity, incompetence are ruining the capital

Nairobi Governor Mike Sonko with Senator Johnson Sakaja during a church service at St Stephen along Jogoo road in Nairobi. [David Njaaga/Standard]

Mike Sonko’s imaginary friends are turning into real and formidable enemies. More than a year into his governorship, Sonko’s reign could slowly be turning into Nairobi’s worst nightmare, with the once mighty city slowly sliding into anarchy.

But before his City Hall administration devours itself, it seems hell bent on swallowing everything in its wake, whole.

While his contemporaries spend their days battling hard to woo investors, improve infrastructure within their counties or mend bridges with useful individuals after a bruising political period, Sonko’s diary appears to remain as was before he was sworn in. He may as well be stuck on the campaign mode.

From his high chair in his office at City Hall, he is always expecting someone to burst through the door and carry him shoulder high out of the office that he was duly elected to. Perhaps because his time as MP was full of such drama.

Those around him say he is constantly on the warpath, drawing out war strategies in his mind, recreating epic battles in his head that always had him as the victor.

The tragedy, though, is in those who are shocked at what Nairobi has become under Sonko.

“He is a man who got to where he is through the unconventional. It was foolhardy for Nairobi to expect the conventional from him,” an administrator who has worked closely with him told the Sunday Standard in confidence.

Old self?

“He might have wanted to change into a more sophisticated governor, but the challenges at City Hall made him retreat to a more familiar self.”

In his heyday, his name was synonymous to chaos. Disorder. Disregard for law, order and everything in between. He was the poster boy for what Nairobi should not be but was growing into.

Those around him say he is sliding back into his old self, the most recent tell-tale sign being the disruption of a press conference at a Nairobi hotel by goons who allegedly pledged loyalty to the city father.

Granted, Sonko might not be in control of everyone who breaks the law in his name, but he inspires a certain degree of lawlessness, through speech and action, among those who hold him dear to their hearts.

A people deserve the leader they elect. Slowly, the four million people in Nairobi are realising that there is more to governing a city than punching walls or brandishing guns or exchanging insults within the confines of social media.

For the first time in years, the city is choking under a constant supply of garbage and burst sewers. Disorder reigns.

But Sonko says none of it is a leadership issue. He says the city has ground to a halt because of cartels, an amorphous body of ghosts always behind him making sure to pull down whatever structures he puts up.

Dry taps? Blame the cartels.

“Investigations reveal that the water shortage being experienced in many parts of Nairobi is as a result of sabotage by water cartels whose days are now numbered,” he said recently.

Mountains of garbage? Blame the cartels. Potholes? Cartels.

For Sonko, survival means status quo. And for him, status quo means looking out for number one, and no one else.