Revealed: Inside Wilson Airports' waiting deaths

Wilson Airport, East Africa's busiest general aviation hub, is in trouble. Beneath the constant hum of 120,000 yearly aeroplanes conducting training flights, commercial departures, and safari charters lies a facility struggling with decay, congestion, and systemic failures that have aviation stakeholders deeply worried.

The physical state of Wilson Airport tells a story of neglect. A multi-sectoral technical committee's report from late 2023 exposed the "sorry state" of Kenya's major airports, including Wilson, finding "defective and inadequate infrastructure and electro-mechanical facilities" .

The committee's findings paint a grim picture: "damaged runways, old and leaking water pipes, poor drainage, rusted and leaking roofs and ceilings, and poor power backup system". 

For a facility handling over 120,000 aircraft movements annually, these are not mere cosmetic issues – they are safety hazards.

A March 5, 2024, mid-air collision that killed two pilots and damaged a Safarilink Dash 8, for instance, cast a harsh spotlight on problems that have been festering at the airport for years. 

It was meant to be a routine Tuesday morning at Wilson – one of Africa's busiest aviation hubs – but within seconds, the sky over Nairobi National Park became the scene of a devastating mid-air collision that left the aviation community in mourning and exposed deep-seated safety concerns at the facility. Details from an aircraft accident report, released last week and obtained by The Standard, paints the last moments before the crash.

At exactly 9.34am on March 5, 2024, two aircraft operating just meters apart in Nairobi's crowded airspace collided with catastrophic consequences. A small Cessna 172M training aircraft, registration 5Y-NNJ, carrying two people, and a Bombardier Dash 8 passenger plane, registration 5Y-SLK, with 44 souls on board, met in the worst possible way above the park's savannah.

The Cessna, operated by Ninety Nines Flying School, had taken off from Wilson's Runway 07 just after 8:30 am. On board were a 25-year-old flight instructor and his 20-year-old student pilot, practising circuits – the repetitive take-off and landing patterns that every pilot must master.

The instructor, a commercial pilot license holder with 673 hours of flying experience, was conducting what should have been routine training. The student, holding only a student pilot's license with 48.7 hours total flying time, was working toward their private pilot's license.

Meanwhile, at 9.11 am, the crew of Safarilink Flight 053 to Ukunda's Diani airport requested start-up clearance. The Dash 8, a 22-year-old aircraft with 31,997 hours in the air, was commanded by a veteran pilot with 7,547 total flying hours, including 1,618 hours on the Dash 8 type. His first officer, seated to his right, had 3,229 hours total, with 110 hours on the aircraft.

"We have 44 on board, requesting flight level 190," the crew told air traffic control. The clearance came back: "Cleared 9,000 feet level change enroute, departure 14, set course TV."

Air traffic control communications, obtained by the Standard, reveal the frantic final exchanges.

At 9.30 am, the Cessna was cleared for another touch-and-go on Runway 07. "Five Yankee November November Juliet, runway zero seven surface wind zero six zero five knots, cleared touch and go," the tower instructed. 

Two minutes later, at 9.32 am, the tower warned the Cessna crew: "And November November Juliet, possible traffic a Dash 8 shortly departing one four on a runway heading, look out." 

"Looking out," the Cessna responded.

At the same moment, the Dash 8 was ready. Tower responded with what would become critical instructions: "Roger with that traffic in sight. Once clear traffic landing zero seven short of one four, another one now on crosswind of zero seven for circuits. Runway one four, zero six zero zero five knots, cleared for take-off."

 At 9.33 am, the Dash 8 rotated off Runway 14. The first officer called out, "V1/VR rotate," and the captain pulled back on the controls. As they climbed through 400 feet, the captain later reported seeing traffic at his 8 o'clock position, which he believed was well clear.

Then came the bang.

At approximately 6,100 feet above the ground – just over a mile high – the two aircraft collided.

At 9.34:36 am, the Cessna disappeared from radar. It would never reappear. 

The Dash 8 crew felt a violent jolt. "We heard a loud bang and felt an impact," the captain later recounted. The aircraft yawed sharply, and the captain fought to maintain control. He immediately abandoned the climb, turning back toward Wilson Airport while maintaining approximately 6,200 feet.

"We had an air incident," the first officer calmly told the approach radar at 9:35 am, requesting to return to Wilson. "What type of air incident?" the controller asked. "Possibly with another aircraft," came the response. 

The Cessna was not so lucky.

Witnesses on the ground and in the air saw the small training aircraft spiral uncontrollably toward the earth. Another pilot, flying 5Y-CDL, later told the tower: "Just for your information, we departed behind the Dash and something around upwind of runway one four seems to have been going a bit low." 

The accident has cast a harsh spotlight on problems that have been festering at Wilson Airport for years. 

The preliminary accident report reveals a startling statistic: In the 12 months preceding the collision, one operator alone reported at least 10 cases of conflicting traffic involving its fleet, with six of those near-miss incidents occurring at Wilson Airport. This suggests the March tragedy was not an isolated event but part of a worrying pattern.

The report also notes that the air traffic controller could have delayed the bigger aircraft, Dash 8, on the tarmac for 30 seconds. “The culture of impunity at Wilson is the problem. Some of the big boys don't even call on the radio; they use their cellphones to call the air traffic controller to be assigned quick landing or take-off slots. They bully the small players,” says our source. The encroaching structures have also forced the planes to take off or land through more challenging approach paths.

“Due to obstacles, planes are sometimes forced to use alternative paths. For instance, when the main runway is closed for upgrades, aircraft must use a different runway with an approach path over Kibera, which has tighter vertical clearances due to buildings, but the Kenya Civil Aviation Authority (KCAA) has installed a Precision Approach Path Indicator (PAPI). This guides pilots to maintain the correct and safe glide path for landing, rather than relying on a steeper visual approach,” says a Wilson Airport-based pilot.

A multi-sectoral technical committee's report from late 2023 exposed the "sorry state" of Kenya's major airports, including Wilson, finding "defective and inadequate infrastructure and electro-mechanical facilities." The findings painted a grim picture: Damaged runways, old and leaking water pipes, poor drainage, rusted and leaking roofs and ceilings, and poor power backup systems.

The preliminary accident report itself notes that under NOTAM HK: B0007/2024, "there are taxiway edge lights that require attention and repair". While not directly linked to the March collision, such deficiencies speak to an environment where maintenance struggles to keep pace with demand. Perhaps most concerning, the official findings reveal that the Police Airwing at Wilson, "tasked with providing search and rescue services, is not functional".

This left air traffic control with no choice but to rely on "other aircraft within the airspace, including two helicopters, to proceed to the site for rescue". While this improvisation succeeded in locating the wreckage, it highlights a dangerous gap in official capability.

When the Airport Rescue and Firefighting Services were alerted, their response was hampered by terrain and weather. The police air rescue unit at Wilson is just in name and has no personnel or equipment. Despite the crash site being just 1.66 nautical miles from the runway, ARFFS took 18 minutes to arrive – a delay exacerbated by "previous night's rain within the locality". In a survivable accident, those 18 minutes can mean the difference between life and death

Wilson is currently grappling with a threat that literally rises from the ground: the unchecked sprouting of high-rise buildings directly in the path of incoming and outgoing aircraft. Recent high-level inspections, including an aerial fly-by conducted by the Kenya Airports Authority (KAA) board, have painted a worrying picture of the Nairobi skyline.

KAA Board Chairman Caleb Kositany confirmed that the authority is deeply concerned about "encroaching high-rise developments" that are compromising airspace safety, noting that these illegal structures are in direct "defiance of flight safety laws" and pose an immediate risk to secure landings . 

The most immediate and tangible crisis is currently unfolding just metres from the flight path due to the construction of the multi-billion shilling Bomas International Conference Complex (BICC).

Aviation stakeholders have been forced into emergency meetings after it was revealed that the Turkish contractor, Summa Turizm Yatirimciligi Anonim Sirketi, operates cranes soaring to heights of between 75 and 85 metres above ground level for the next six months.

Alarmingly, industry insiders suggest KCAA was initially directed to find an alternative route rather than block the progress of what is considered a flagship government project, highlighting a dangerous collision between political expediency and aviation safety.

In a sweeping attempt to mitigate the risk posed by the urban jungle that has crept up around the airport, the KCAA  issued a drastic 30-day ultimatum to property owners.

A public notice published in February 2026 now mandates the installation of prescribed Class B medium-intensity aeronautical obstacle lights on all developments within a staggering 15-kilometre radius of Wilson.

The list of affected suburbs reads like a map of Nairobi, including Lang'ata, Karen, South B, South C, Ongata Rongai, and Kibera.

This directive, aimed at making structures visible to pilots during night and low-visibility operations, underscores how the city has fundamentally changed around the airfield, turning static buildings into potential hazards that must now be lit up like Christmas trees to prevent disaster.

Attempts to get a comment from Nairobi governor Johnson Sakaja on the unchecked approval of high-rise buildings on flight paths bore no fruit as he failed to pick up numerous calls or respond to messages from The Standard.