Development is right, not a favour from political leaders

Elected leaders have crafted a diversionary illusion that no development project can be initiated or successfully implemented without their personal blessing. [File, Standard]

For over two decades, Kenya has been held hostage to a politician-centred model of development. From the ward level to the presidency, development projects are no longer the outcome of robust institutional planning, public participation, or fiscal responsibility—they are the by-products of political goodwill, loyalty, and patronage.

In every corner of this country, elected leaders—from Members of County Assemblies (MCAs), Members of Parliament (MPs), Woman Representatives, Senators, Governors, to the President have systematically colonised the minds of their constituents. They have crafted a diversionary illusion: That no development project can be initiated or successfully implemented without their personal blessing. This model has turned basic infrastructure, public utilities, and social programmes into political favours. It has reduced citizens to passive recipients of "goodwill" rather than empowered rights holders entitled to public goods and services.

This political patronage has become the quality assurance test for a project's viability. If a road, school, dispensary, water system, or market project does not align with the politician’s agenda, it withers. If the local electorate has shown signs of political dissent, they are denied what is rightfully theirs. Conversely, where allegiance is guaranteed, the tap of development flows, as though State resources were private property.

And yet, Kenya does not lack structures and systems for fair and equitable development. The Constitution outlines clear mechanisms: Citizens propose projects, county or national assemblies debate and prioritise them, and funding is drawn from the exchequer. Through various ministries and departments, the executive branch is tasked with implementation. In a well-functioning democracy, the development agenda of any incoming regime must pass through these structured processes through which projects are scrutinised, debated, budgeted, and monitored.

But that is not the Kenya we live in.

What we witness is a proliferation of arbitrary, personalised development. Elected leaders, irrespective of their jurisdiction, impose priorities based on their networks, political survival instincts, and vendettas. Constituencies and communities become battlegrounds of patronage, where loyalty is rewarded with visible projects and dissent punished with neglect.

This trend is not merely inefficient; it is dangerous. It undermines the very fabric of democratic governance, corrodes public trust in institutions, sabotages professionalism in public service, breeds corruption, tribalism, and exclusion, and most critically, entrenches a culture where taxpayer money is viewed not as a public resource but as a politician’s tool for self-promotion and re-election.

The politician-centred model of development in Kenya rests on three self-serving pillars.

First, forced loyalty through project donations. Politicians use State resources to appear benevolent, building classrooms or digging boreholes as if funded from their own pockets. The taxpayer funds these projects, yet they are delivered as “gifts,” erasing the role of public agencies and feeding a toxic narrative of dependency.

Second, personal branding through public projects. Development is no longer a shared national mission but a branding strategy. Politicians plant their faces on billboards, imprint their names on school buildings, and use taxpayer-funded projects to sell the illusion of personal competence and generosity.

Third, the punishment of disloyal constituencies. This is perhaps the most insidious. Communities that vote “wrongly” are condemned to neglect. Essential services are denied not because of budgetary constraints or technical hurdles, but because of political spite. This reward-punishment axis has seen regions in Kenya deliberately marginalised, not for lack of need but for failing to offer loyalty.

What we have, in effect, is a neo-slavery model. Taxpayers are chained to the mercy of elected officials. Their worth is determined not by their citizenship but by their political alignment. This is neither moral nor sustainable.

We need to shift this model.

Let systems, not individuals, drive development. Let citizens identify their needs and process those needs through the institutions established to ensure equity, efficiency, and accountability. Yes, leaders are elected with manifestos—but those manifestos must be implemented through lawful procedures, not backroom handouts. Otherwise, we risk turning elected officials into demi-gods and citizens into beggars of what is rightfully theirs.

Dr Mokua is Executive Director of Loyola Centre for Media and Communication