Devolution at 5: Why Kenyans will wait longer for economic change

A five-year-old child can walk, talk and do some chores. Likewise, our devolved system of governance, at five, is old enough to be evaluated on walking, talking and performance of duties.

Most Kenyans believed devolution was the linchpin around which the 2010 constitution revolved. They celebrated it. The voters were told they would now get resources from the central government, ‘maendeleo itakuja’. They were made to believe the national government was hoarding development, and only dishing it to those who toed the line and voted for it.

In the old system, the national government held resources in one place with the President having lots of power on who would get it. Even getting it took too long because of bureaucracy.

In 2010, devolution came through a referendum. But did we get what we wanted? Politically we did, with 47 governments previously led by district commissioners. Now we all can talk of our governors, our county.

Psychologically, it was a victory. We felt government was closer to us. But the counties had no model to emulate except the old KANU and ‘kanjoism’. The actors were the same Kenyans. Why did we expect different results? Why does anyone expect corruption at the national government and none at county level?

Some argue that the long wait, 50 years, to get control of money might have made corruption worse in the counties, much like children who wait for their rich father to die to squander his wealth. Add the fact that money is allocated unconditionally. Lazy and hardworking counties all get the money.

The new county leaders secretly admired trappings of power enjoyed by the central government officials; they were quick to replicate that. After all, some county government officials are “devolved” from the national government.

Everyone salivated

Without oil or another substantial source of wealth, the money held by the government was lucrative, it still is. Everyone salivated for it for 50 years, till devolution. Now everyone can get it unconditionally.

That is the soft underbelly of devolution. What are the penalties or rewards for using the funds from the national government? How the revenue is generated is less emphasised. We also seem to have ignored the “human behaviour” in our new political dispensation. Human beings with their prejudices, culture, short-termism and other weaknesses are the key players in any political system.

Overnight, things became local, every county has a capital, a university (those without are going to get one) and “our” jobs. Overnight, a local elite cropped up - the county government employees. They could flaunt their status through cars and other symbols of elitism; they even started talking good English unlike old Kanjoras. They joined the local elite like businessmen, school principals and some transplanted elites and pseudo elites from Nairobi.

The voter watched with excitement but after five years, the truth has emerged. It was easier to vote for devolution than to speed up economic growth, which should be the core of devolution.

The shades of growth we see in the counties are a result of local elites’ bold attempt to trap the money from the central government, ensuring it stays within the county through bloated workforce and tenders.

Voters soon realised their taxes are now shared by more people who do not work, in an economic sense; they go to the office, write reports and do other administrative jobs which could have been taken over by technology.

They realised that with or without devolution, they have to work to feed themselves, clothe themselves, educate kids and feed the governments through taxes.

Their greatest disappointment was that their economic lives did not change as fast as expected. They were not supposed to. Economic growth is not just about devolution. Land productivity did not go up overnight, and traditions such as waiting for the government did not die overnight. In fact, now they are waiting for two governments.

The reality is that devolution or not, someone has to sweat. The voters thought someone else would work but not them. Many felt that devolution would mark the end of work.

Devolution mimicked the coming of independence, when we thought with mzungu gone we would enjoy ‘matunda ya uhuru’ without first planting trees and nurturing them till they bear fruits.

To fully reap the fruits of devolution, responsibility, integrity and work ethics must be enforced and made part of county culture. That is how counties will become centres of economic growth, not just politics. Without this paradigm shift, devolution will only benefit the few elites who get contracts and jobs at the county. The rest of the voters will be cheerleaders.

Let us ask. How many industries have been started in the counties? If you go to most areas, the most flamboyant building is the governor’s office, with a big fence and razor wire on top. Yet in Nairobi and other cities, the tallest and most iconic buildings are owned by the private sector.

Magnets

Universally, it is the private sector that drives the economies, governments are facilitators. How many counties are magnets to investors and their money - forgetting their colour, tribe or religion?

Governors seem to have indirectly accepted that economic viability of the counties is questionable and have tried to form economic blocs. Now some leaders want that institutionalised through constitutional change. Raila says we get back to 14 regions - read original provinces - and subdivide some. Interestingly, we still hear of regional coordinators, remnants of provincial administration. The echoes from the past are still being heard.

This is a silent admission that the 2010 Constitution was more political than economic. It is no wonder the words poverty and wealth do not appear in the new constitution. Check it.

Any new constitutional changes should be anchored on economics, not politics. That is easier said than done. Having tasted the trappings of power and national largesse, abolishing counties would be an uphill task. The suggestion that we add regions but leave the counties as they are is another echo from the past.

It is amazing that after 55 years as a nation we still have not decided how the country should be run. Yet at that age, one ought to have married, brought up own children and started the journey into the sunset of his life assured of a solid legacy. As a nation we seem to be prolonging our youth, refusing to settle down and take up the burdens of responsibility. What are we waiting for?

- The writer teaches at the University of Nairobi.