What we want to know about counties and no one tells us

Peter Munya, the chairman of the Council of Governors, at the Fourth Devolution Conference 2017 in Naivasha on March 9, 2017. PHOTO | SULEIMAN MBATIAH | NATION MEDIA GROUP

What you need to know:

  • Until the counties manufacture culture, we can assume they haven’t yet sank deep roots – and can even be reversed.

  • You need something more than a flag on a governor’s car to do that.

  • Cultural engineering, though, is a very hard job.

The campaigns for the August 8 elections in Kenya are truly getting hot, and the media have not disappointed.

Many hours of broadcast time and reams of newsprint are being spent on examining the electoral fortunes of the parties and big men and women. The election special pages are, quite commendably, lavishing many words and photographs on the county races.

The question of how Kenya will vote in an election that will be the first test of devolution is fascinating. Wise men and women have dissected the issues that have been presented by devolution: who is more important, the Member of Parliament in Nairobi or the seemingly smaller fish, the member of the county assembly upcountry?

The view seems to be that that the MCA is the real thing, because he can dispense local patronage. The MP is “just feathers”. And which one is more prestigious – being a governor or senator? That one has been decisively settled. Being a governor is, and you get to buy yourself a convoy of cars to follow you around, and give press conferences from your own lectern with “Governor of….” boldly imprinted on it.

In addition, you can dish out tenders for some roads and bridges, and open them, which the senator can’t do. And, as we have seen with Mombasa Governor Hassan Joho, you get to be involved in a very personal quarrel with the President.

CULTURAL CHANGE

But beyond making politics and “eating” more local, what has devolution really changed, say culturally?

Indeed, what does that even mean? For example, if a lucrative mineral or oil were found in a town, and a plant is built, roads and railways would be extended to the place. More people would come to the town to work. The mine owners might build a modest stadium and set up a football team.

The club would get a fanatic local base, and the supporters might create a delightful club song. And so you have a rallying cry, and a new identity that didn’t exist before.

Among the businesses that would open would be bars and hotels. Almost inevitably, to the chagrin of the moralists, a brothel might also open up as the prostitutes move in.

With a lively night scene, a local previously obscure musician might emerge with a new sound, fusing some of the local traditional music, and he becomes a big hit. His music might eventually travel beyond the town, and become big in the whole of Kenya. In this way, we could say the mine plant has had a significant impact on the culture of the area and country.

When I asked someone who is doing a lot of work in the counties and has a nose for these kinds of trends, whether he has detected this kind of impact with the counties, he took a long time to answer.

'SOMETHING STRANGE'

Eventually, he told me that he had noticed “something strange”. Because of tribal politics, he had seen that a few counties are employing “their people” directly from the diaspora.

These are fellows who wouldn’t have returned home in the past, he said, “because they didn’t know anyone in Nairobi”. He didn’t have the figures, and I couldn’t find them anywhere, but it blew my socks off to imagine that the counties could have succeeded in doing something the central government in Kenya and other African countries have tried and largely failed to do – attract the diaspora!

He couldn’t say what their social and cultural impact was, although he did notice that some of them “have airs” that have alienated local wananchi. However, he had also noted in some counties these diaspora fellows had brought enlightened work practices that you don’t find in the central government in Nairobi.

Other folks say they noticed that in a bid to boost local tourism and attract visitors, counties are getting interested in local festivals. A case in point being the Lamu Festival.

Until the counties manufacture culture, we can assume they haven’t yet sank deep roots – and can even be reversed. You need something more than a flag on a governor’s car to do that.

Cultural engineering, though, is a very hard job. There was a story the other day about a county that built a new market. The traders didn’t come. Instead, fellows brought their mattresses and cooking pots, and the market is now a residence of sorts.

Charles Onyango-Obbo is publisher, Africa data visualiser Africapedia.com and explainer site Roguechiefs.com. Twitter: @cobbo3