Democracy, Development, and Devolution in Nakuru

“We are moving from one stage to another,” the Rift Valley Provincial Commissioner explained to us about the new constitution. “We cannot stay in the same stage forever. We have been in Lancaster for far too long.”

The Lancaster House conferences were the meetings between 1960 and 1963 where the Kenyan constitution and independence was negotiated between the British and selected Kenyan elites. The legacy of the constitution has had disastrous consequences for social class formation after Independence, privileging certain groups of people over others. This, in turn, has led to violent political conflict, especially during elections. On August 4, Kenyans will vote in a referendum that could bring the country a new constitution – attempting to solve the deep-seated, structural conditions once and for all.

For the Provincial Commissioner, the new constitution is a sign of progress, a sign of moving beyond the horrific British colonial legacy. A stage of democratic growth.

For a group of young, well-educated Kenyans from the central Rift Valley, the new constitution is a cop-out. “You’re telling me, after all this fuss and years spent negotiating, this is the best they could do,” Samuel muttered in disbelief. “There is no mention of youth empowerment. This is supposed to be a people-driven process!”

Samuel fumed, “This constitution tells us nothing about how land disputes will be solved, and who should actually receive the land. Ancestral homelands? That is way too ambiguous. What does that even mean?”

The Provincial Commissioner was brought forth to discuss the draft constitution with this group of youth. As a peace initiative of the provincial government (with funding from international NGOs like World Vision and UNDP, of course), a group of 10 people met in the Provincial headquarters and talked about the document.

The commissioner was unlike any politician we had met in Kenya. His tie said it all: faded, with Mickey Mouse insignias printed throughout. He very well could have been a pediatrician. Much different than the bling-bling ministers that roam the streets of Nairobi. He knew the draft constitution well, and had examples of different groups and episodes to suggest how the document would help. He soundly and calmly countered Samuel’s claims.

“Conflicts have been here for time immemorial,” the commissioner explained. “We must look at ways in which the constitution is directing us. Society must be regulated. You cannot just be allowed to roam around. That is why we need government.” Although not ideal, he stressed that the constitution is the best attempt to regulate society and prevent conflict. Perhaps most importantly, the commissioner stressed the attempt to de-link land from politics.

Samuel didn’t buy it, and once again stated how the youth had been overlooked in the process. “There is nothing in this constitution to suggest how the youth will benefit from government. This is the same old story.”

~~~

While Nakuru is the fourth largest city in Kenya, it feels much more like a small town. It has the same street names as Nairobi – Kenyatta Avenue, Moi Avenue, and all the other usual suspects – but 3 million less people.

As in most small African towns, the minibus station is the center of industry and excitement; the epicenter for importing and exporting tourists, goods, and second-hand gadgets. Hustlers roam with nothing better to do. Young boys with no jobs, no homes and no families pick at the piles of garbage. A group of them burn it, while they smoke pieces of rolled up newspaper. Not sure what is inside. A few teenagers dance to the music blasting, entirely unaware of their surroundings. The glue that they recently sniffed has done the trick. “Welcome to our grocery” a man came up to the window of our vehicle selling cokes, biscuits and afia – Kenya’s Sunny D: sweet, tangy, and terrible. A man sold knives. Another wallets. A third belts. A woman had key chains, flashlights, and other “dangles” – everybody wonders if they sell any of this stuff.

Africa’s one-dollar store.

Since 2003, when Kenya implemented its new decentralization policies, small towns like Nakuru have had mini-resurgences. Residents hope that the promises of devolution in the new constitution will further develop the town.

“For so many years, all the money went to Nairobi,” a deputy director in the provincial Ministry of Lands told us. “But now they are starting to develop other areas. The CDF, LATF, LASDAP – there are so many different initiatives to put money in the hands of local communities.”

Interestingly, the devolution and decentralization policies span beyond monetary resources, and include professional and expert resources as well. For example, bureaucrats who have spent most of their lives working in Nairobi have been transferred throughout the country.

“I lived in Nairobi for many, many years,” the deputy director told us. “But I am so happy to be out here. I prefer the solitude of my rural homeland.” He explained how this has been the case with many of his colleagues, and how he thinks it is only going to be more pronounced with the new constitution.

The contemporary case of Kenyan ruralization.

For once, the development of Nakuru is not just about tourism. While it does have one of the largest game parks in the country, it also has a growing middle class, emerging agricultural industry, and lots of home grown talent.

And, of course, a bustling matatu station.

~~~

We interrupted Samuel, Winston and Maureen’s prayer session at the Merica Hotel in central Nakuru. While most of the customers’ eyes were glued to the television watching the England-Slovenia game, the three of them were singing psalms and drinking tea in the back.

The Merica Hotel is the nicest hotel in Nakuru and the hangout for rich ex-pats, aspiring politicians and big men themselves. Every large African city has a spot like this, and its arrival on the scene in 2003 put Nakuru on the map of importance.

One of the first questions Samuel asked us earlier after the discussion of the constitution was, “Are you a Christian?” He seemed disappointed when we told him no. “Well, there is still time,” he quickly responded.

We spent the first thirty minutes talking about religion until Maureen left to go home. The conversation immediately shifted to politics. Samuel and Winston asked us what we thought of the constitution.

“Something needs to be done,” my girlfriend responded. “And the constitution is far better than the current one.” She explained how the current constitution leads to a situation where land is the most important form of patronage. In theory, the new constitution will change this so that land is no longer used as a political resource.

“Of course the constitution is not everything,” I added. “But it is a start, and only so much can be asked of a piece of paper. Just because it is not perfect, does not mean that it should be rejected. Politics is inherently about conflict – not consensus – and nobody said democracy would be easy.”

Samuel was sick of the “baby steps” argument, and was not having any of it, “This constitution does not tell us anything about how we should govern our country. It simply creates more problems and gives us no clear way to solve them.”

One of his main concerns was that the shift from districts to counties was going to lead to massive instability. “People will lose their jobs, and now people will have to travel farther to get their services provided to them. We have districts now, why do we have to change them to counties?” He did not agree with the conventional wisdom that the new constitution would empower local communities.

Mostly, he did not trust that the politicians of the country would be able to handle the massive overhaul. And, while devolution was an important part of the constitution, the disbursement of money to the county level – rather than the more immediate district level – was insufficient. It would not pass into the hands of the youth. “What are these counties, anyway?” he complained. “Who will be in charge of them?”

“For this country to succeed, we need both peace and development,” Winston said. “We cannot have peace without development and we cannot have development without peace. And the youth must be at the center of this project.” The statistics are stunning: two-thirds of Kenyan residents are under 25 years old. The majority of the country is youth.

“The youth have not been part of the process. The devolution will not help the youth,” Samuel interrupted. “We need individual economic empowerment.”

I asked Samuel what “individual economic empowerment” is. He responded, “The youth of this country have nothing to do. So when a politician comes with an ‘opportunity’ or a little bit of cash, they jump on it.” In other words, the youth are taken advantage of by the more powerful politicians.

“So they need jobs and money,” I said, still unsure of what he meant by ‘empowerment.’ This is the new buzz word in developing countries today: empowerment. If you write a grant proposal, your project must ‘empower’ people. If you are a politician, you must ‘empower’ your community. Just like the word ‘sustainable’ in the 1990s, every political and social circle has adopted the term – without really knowing what it means. It remains ambiguous and overused; yet, it is a source of optimism for aspiring leaders like Winston and Samuel.

“The youth must have jobs and money, and the constitution does not provide any of this,” Samuel replied. I tried to think of a constitution that does provide the right to a job, and I could not think of any. Not even South Africa, who has one of the most progressive constitutions in the world.

“What about Cuba?” Winston asked me. “They seem to have done something right.”

“When I was in Cuba,” I told him. “I had a friend named James who had to decide whether to be a doctor or a bartender. He chose to become a bartender because he could make more money. Not only more money, but enough to get by. If he became a doctor, he feared that he would have no livelihood.”

He had secured a job, but I am not sure how empowered he felt.

Samuel mentioned the success of America’s constitution. He was impressed that it has withstood such a long period of time.

“Our country almost came crumbling down during the Civil War,” I reminded him. “It was not until 1965 that all blacks got the right to vote.” While the constitution offered important guidance, some of the most important developments in American politics occurred on the streets and the battlefields, not the courtrooms. This is making democracy work.

While we were exhausted, Samuel and Winston could have talked for hours. “While you are Americans and non-Christians, the one thing that we have in common is that we are all humans. This is the beautiful thing about language – we can all sit here and talk and learn from one another.” Of course, they had to learn English to do so.

I told him that on our next trip we would do this again in Swahili. Samuel said that it is not necessary. But, he continued, “Maybe you will be Christians by then.”