Government's shiny things and the things that actually matter

Presidents William Ruto and Yoweri Museveni at the official launch of Kisumu-Malaba SGR at Kibos, Kisumu County. [PCS]

The ongoing conversation on ‘shiny things’ has reminded me of a story a friend once told me that caused a rift in her marriage.

A few years ago, her husband travelled to Mombasa for work training. During one of their many calls, he hinted at a surprise he had for her when he got back home. She did not think much of it. They were in the middle of building their family home and between bills and keeping the children in school, there was little room for anything grand. At best, she imagined he would return with a dera or maybe a leso, and she was perfectly fine with that.

He returned a week later and barely containing his excitement, called her to the gate. Parked outside, next to her grinning husband, was a brand-new Subaru outback gleaming in the midday sun, unmistakably expensive. It took her a minute to process what she was seeing and when it finally sank in, she quietly walked back to the house.

What followed was not the gratitude he had imagined but silence and a boycott of that vehicle that lasted months. The matter was eventually escalated to wazee. When asked to share her feelings, she simply said, “That is the last thing we needed as a family.” Her husband, still, could not get it.

Unfortunately, papers had been signed already. The shiny thing was already home. There was nothing left to do but to tighten their belts and adjust their finances even further to accommodate the new development.

Such is the nature of shiny things. Sometimes they glare more than they illuminate.

On the surface, it is difficult to argue against progress. New roads cutting across counties, thousands of ‘affordable’ houses springing up in every town, the standard gauge railway set to ease movement of goods and people: All these are everything any society would want. They are visible, tangible achievements that promise ripple effects across sectors.

Yet beneath the shine, there is discontent. Because even as the grand projects rise, majority of Kenyans are barely surviving. While intentions may be noble, most times, what answers to immediate need is what counts the most.

What would it mean, for instance, if Universal Health Coverage was no longer an aspiration but a reality? Would there still be misgivings if every Kenyan could walk into a hospital and receive care without fear of being turned away because of system outages, broken equipment, lack of essential drugs or inability to pay out of pocket?

What would be the general feeling if our education system was stable and adequately funded and students had the required books and resources to learn?

What would it look like if devolution actually worked as intended, if equitable share was aligned to responsibilities and funds disbursed in time to deliver services?

What does the launch of new mega projects mean to thousands of contractors across the country who are owed billions in pending bills?

What would it mean if young people leaving school could realistically expect opportunities for growth and employment other than casual jobs tied to these very projects?

How different would it feel if traders did not dread the rains because there was infrastructure strong enough to support their efforts to sustain a 24-hour economy?

What would it look like if the cost of living allowed families not just to survive but to breathe and to plan for their future?

These may not be shiny things. They do not present opportunities for grand launches. They do not even stand a chance at hitting the headlines but they are what truly count to ordinary citizens.

There is no debate about this; infrastructure matters. A country must build, expand and invest in the future. But there is something unsettling about prioritising the photo-op worthy causes at the expense of what is essential. Development at its core should be about improved lives.

Maybe the question we all should ask is who are all these mega projects for. Because if the answer is the ordinary citizen, then the priorities must shift to capture what they actually need.

Ms Wekesa is a development communication consultant