What Kenya Got Wrong With Devolution

Thomas Hobbes, the 17^th Century English philosopher, used the term "Leviathan" to refer to a government, inspired by the Biblical description in the Book of Job, Chapter 41 of a huge sea-creature possessing tremendous strength and power. While Hobbes obviously admired the Leviathan’s power, it is clear that it was a creature to be feared. “Any hope of subduing him is false” warns the Bible.

In Kenya, taming this beast has been a consistent preoccupation of pro-independence and human rights activists for at least three generations. It has been long acknowledged that the conduct of people in government and the policies the state undertook were the single largest determinants of either the quality of life citizens enjoyed or the suffering they were forced to endure.

Given this, the concentration of power at the centre, in the hands of a few within the government, and primarily in the hands of the President, was diagnosed as the problem. The obvious solution then was to decentralize functions from the Presidency to other institutions and to devolve them from central government to county governments.

However, it seems, little thought was given to the concentration of power in government itself. Because the government we inherited from the British was all powerful, we appear to have taken for granted the centrality of its position in the lives of Kenyans. The unstated assumption was that by decentralizing and devolving functions within government, by bringing it closer to the people so to speak, we would make the citizenry more powerful.

But it has not turned out that way. We didn’t give the people more power; we gave them more government and kept power firmly ensconced in the hands of the devolved state. Not only do the people now have to shell out much more money to support this new structure, but we have also devolved and decentralized many of Nairobi’s bad habits, from theft of public resources to impunity for the perpetrators.

In the book, The Real Politics of the Horn of Africa, Alex de Waal shows how elite capture and control of government in the region more closely resembles a criminal enterprise than democratic politics. It is a perfect description of what is happening both at national and now, county, levels. Far from serving the people, state structures have become tools for elites seeking opportunities to loot and to reward their supporters. 

Further, despite, or perhaps because of devolution, government continues to play an outsized role in the lives of citizens.  The state’s behaviour, not individual merit, hard work or ingenuity, remains the most important factor for the people’s circumstances. Proximity to it is what determines winners and losers, who lives and who dies. It is no accident that any list of the richest Kenyans is dominated by politicians and government functionaries and that their poorest counterparts tend to be those whom government has either ignored or deliberately marginalized. Far from returning the power to the people, we have actually entrenched their dependence even further.

The problem is we have failed to encourage the growth of alternative centres of power, not within, but outside of the state. We have allowed it to monopolize power and crowd out everybody else. We have allowed it to systematically undermine any potential competitors. We have acquiesced in the subjugation of the media, trade unions, organized civil society, business and even the church, to the dictates of government.

It is thus not surprising that everyone seems to want to be in government and every community wants to control it. It is Kenya’s Number One growth industry, a nationwide pyramid scheme, with benefits percolating upwards. The higher you go, the richer it becomes.

Today the government purports to prescribe to adults how and whom they can love, what and when they are allowed to drink, even what they may say or think. Worse, there has sprung up an entire industry dedicated to push the idea that government knows best, that we are its wards and should not question it, even when it breaks the law.

We should be worried when our professionals, clergy, and governance activists all see joining government as the summit of achievement. We have failed to learn from the experience of 2002 when we decapitated the civil society movement and installed its entire leadership in government. Just as we failed to learn from the co-option of the labour movement by government in the 1960s. Today, as the clergy flocks to the government, the state is trying to regulate who can minister in a church and what can be taught in a mosque. Our once vibrant media has been reduced to parroting the “Official Truth” even as former newsmen dine at the table of state.

The truth of Wendell Phillips’ declaration rings clear: "The hand entrusted with power becomes, either from human depravity or esprit de corps, the necessary enemy of the people. Only by continual oversight can the democrat in office be prevented from hardening into a despot."

Continual oversight requires powerful actors outside the government who are able to challenge it. It also requires an empowered citizenry that is able to resist the predations of the state. We must create and incentivize the habitation of non-governmental spaces. And to do this, we must give Kenyans true independence, not just a bigger say in how the Leviathan runs their lives.

Devolving Media And Civil Society

Nakuru is impressive. Visiting for the first time in many years, I was struck by the changes in city's skyline. It has the feel of a boom town and, I was told, real estate prices have shot through the roof. Two years ago, the UN rated it as Africa's fastest growing town and the fourth fastest in the world. No mean achievement.

While there, I was privileged to met an elderly lady who was introduced to me, in that quaint rural tradition which names parents after their children, only as Mama George. She's a seasoned political activist who despite her advanced years, is still full of passion ("Government makes my blood boil," she told me). Her wrinkled eyes danced as she related tales of the fight for multiparty democracy, walking from Nakuru to Nairobi to participate in the Saba Saba protests and how every January, a group of these veterans still gather in Nairobi to water a tree they planted in honor of the struggle. It is a travesty, I remember thinking, that we do not ourselves exalt these heroes; ordinary Kenyans who did extraordinary things; who refused to be cowed by the violence of a dictator; whose courage and determination laid the ground for the freedoms we take for granted today.

I didn't ask what she made of today's society but I suspect I know what she would think of the fear we displayed during the election; of the refusal to face up to our history; of a nation that forsakes justice for a temporary peace and values economic growth over its citizens' rights and freedoms.

But Nakuru has other lessons to teach. Driving just outside the town centre, one encounters huge heaps of garbage. The towns landfill is overflowing and everyday truckloads of rubbish are being deposited by the roadside. It's not just a stinking eyesore, but a potential public health hazard. KTN covered this a few days ago but it is clearly not an issue the national media is in any danger of running away with. It is reminiscent of the garbage crisis in Mombasa which may get a sporadic mention in between the mouthfuls of soap operas. It led to conversations with locals about the need to restructure our press and civil society to keep up with devolution.

As Kenya moves to devolve governance, one wonders how county residents will keep county governments honest. The experience with devolved funds, such as the Constituency Development Fund, over the last decade should be a wake up call. The opacity and lack of accountability that  characterized the operation of these instruments must not be repeated with county governments. Similarly, the traditional neglect of local government (except for the fights that accompanied mayoral elections) must not be transferred to county governments. We must not allow county issues to continue to be crowded out by the national conversation.

However, our media and civil society organizations are currently not suited to deliver this. They remain  resolutely centralized, Nairobi-based and focused on national issues. We need to start thinking about how to encourage the growth of county based CSOs which can articulate local issues and put pressure on the devolved governments. Ditto for the media. Local reporters covering local issues for local publications or broadcasters would be critical to keeping the county governments on their toes. Following up on their handling of issues such as the garbage crisis in burgeoning Nakuru is not the sort of thing national media do well but would be the bread and butter of county media. Strong local media would not only improve governance, but also a shot in the arm for county economies, creating jobs and providing a means for county level businesses to reach local consumers.

Devolving media and civil society along with government is essential if citizens are to hold county authorities to account for the services they are owed. It will ensure that county governments will be focused, not on posturing for a national audience, but on local issues, which will ultimately have the most impact on the lives of the people. If we as a society did this, we may just stand a chance of winning back the favour of Mama George.