When Kenyans voted overwhelmingly for the new constitution in 2010, devolution was sold as the silver bullet that would cure decades of marginalization, corruption, and underdevelopment. Twelve years later, as we approach another election cycle, it's time for an honest reckoning: have our 47 county governments delivered on their promises, or have we simply decentralized dysfunction?
The report card is decidedly mixed. Counties like Makueni under Kivutha Kibwana and Kakamega under Wycliffe Oparanya have emerged as beacons of what devolution can achieve. Makueni's Universal Health Coverage program, launched three years before the national government even began piloting similar initiatives, has reduced maternal mortality by 40% and increased skilled birth attendance from 45% to 87%. Meanwhile, Kakamega's aggressive infrastructure development saw the county construct over 2,000 kilometers of rural roads, connecting previously isolated communities to markets and services.
But for every success story, there's a cautionary tale. Look no further than Kiambu, Kenya's wealthiest county by GDP contribution, where political infighting and questionable procurement decisions have squandered immense potential. Despite collecting over Ksh 6 billion annually in own-source revenue, Kiambu's development record remains underwhelming, with persistent water shortages and poor road networks in areas like Limuru and Githunguri.
The numbers tell a sobering story. According to the Controller of Budget's latest report, only 23 counties achieved absorption rates above 90% for their development budgets in the last financial year. This means that Ksh 68 billion allocated for development projects—money that could have built hospitals, schools, and roads—was returned to the Treasury unused. In Turkana, despite receiving the largest equitable share allocation at Ksh 15.2 billion, absorption stood at a dismal 67%, while basic services remain elusive for most residents.
Corruption has proven as virulent at the county level as it ever was in Nairobi. The Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission reports that county governments account for 60% of all corruption cases under investigation. From the infamous "wheelbarrows worth Ksh 1 million each" in Bungoma to ghost employees in Samburu, the creativity of county-level corruption has been matched only by its audacity. Governor Mike Sonko's impeachment in Nairobi and the ongoing corruption cases against governors in Kiambu, Samburu, and Bomet underscore how devolution has simply created 47 new centers of graft.
The health sector, devolved entirely to counties, illustrates both the promise and peril of our system. While counties like Nyeri have invested heavily in medical equipment and staff training, resulting in reduced referral rates to national hospitals, others have allowed healthcare to deteriorate catastrophically. Tharaka Nithi's Chogoria Hospital, once a regional referral center, has struggled with drug shortages and equipment breakdowns. In Garissa, the county's inability to pay healthcare workers led to a three-month strike that essentially shut down public health services.
Agriculture, the backbone of Kenya's economy and primary responsibility of county governments, presents perhaps the starkest contrasts. Meru's aggressive promotion of miraa farming and value addition has increased farmer incomes by an average of 35%. Contrast this with Busia, where poor extension services and inadequate storage facilities have left farmers vulnerable to post-harvest losses exceeding 40%. The result? Rural-urban migration continues unabated, with youth abandoning agriculture for uncertain prospects in urban centers.
The infrastructure deficit remains glaring despite devolution's promises. While the national government has delivered transformative projects like the Standard Gauge Railway and expanded airport facilities, county roads—which constitute 85% of Kenya's road network—remain largely impassable during rainy seasons. Only 12% of county roads are in good condition, according to the Kenya Roads Board, hampering agricultural productivity and economic growth.
Perhaps most troubling is the emergence of ethnic mini-states, where county resources are distributed along tribal lines rather than need or merit. This has been particularly evident in cosmopolitan counties like Nakuru and Uasin Gishu, where hiring patterns and project allocation often mirror ethnic demographics rather than professional qualifications.
Yet abandoning devolution would be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. The system has brought government closer to the people, enabled local solutions to local problems, and created a generation of leaders who understand grassroots challenges. The question isn't whether devolution works, but how to make it work better.
As we head into the next election cycle, Kenyans must demand more than campaign promises and ethnic arithmetic. We need leaders with proven track records of delivery, transparent procurement systems, and the political will to prioritize development over personal enrichment. Devolution's promise remains valid—but only if we hold our leaders accountable for delivering it.
TrueWire Editorial