Devolution works where leadership treats public funds as sacred

 

Devolution in Kenya was never going to be perfect. It was an experiment born out of the 2010 Constitution—a deliberate shift from an over-centralized system to one where power, resources, and decision-making moved closer to the people. For years, critics have asked whether it works. They point to stalled projects, endless audit queries, MCAs fighting governors, and counties that seem permanently trapped in mediocrity. But if we are honest and fair, we must also acknowledge where devolution has worked—and worked remarkably well. Kiambu, Murang’a, and Makueni offer strong evidence that visionary leadership can transform counties when the tools of devolution are used properly.

Take Kiambu County under Governor Kimani Wamatangi. The most striking development has been the growth in Own Source Revenue (OSR), which reportedly doubled from KSh 2.79 billion to KSh 5.45 billion. That is not merely a financial statistic—it is a governance signal. It suggests improved revenue collection systems, reduced leakages, and stronger internal controls. More importantly, the growth has translated into visible social infrastructure. The construction of six Level IV hospitals and 28 Level III hospitals dramatically improves healthcare access. When a county ensures that residents do not walk more than five kilometers to reach a healthcare facility, that is devolution delivering dignity. Add to that the construction of over 500 ECDE classrooms across sub-locations, and you begin to see a pattern: resources raised locally are being reinvested locally.

Murang’a County offers another example of how devolved units can innovate and uplift communities. Under successive leaderships that prioritized fiscal discipline and programmatic clarity, Murang’a became known for its Inua Mkulima initiative, where the county government invested in avocado seedlings, dairy improvement, and market linkages. Instead of waiting for national agricultural reforms, the county actively empowered farmers with value-chain support. The result was increased household incomes and stronger agricultural productivity. Murang’a also invested in water projects and health facilities, recognizing that rural transformation requires basic services first. When farmers have irrigation and reliable roads to markets, prosperity follows.

Then there is Makueni County under the leadership of Kivutha Kibwana, arguably one of the clearest examples of visionary devolution in action. Professor Kibwana approached governance with a participatory framework. Public participation was not cosmetic—it was embedded in budgeting and planning processes. Makueni institutionalized citizen forums where residents directly influenced development priorities. The county strengthened its health systems, built and equipped facilities, and even earned recognition for prudent financial management. Revenue collection was streamlined, corruption was curtailed, and service delivery improved. Makueni also invested heavily in water infrastructure in an arid region where water scarcity defines daily life. That is what devolution was meant to accomplish: context-specific solutions tailored to local realities.

What unites Kiambu, Murang’a, and Makueni is not geography or demographics. It is leadership. Devolution gives counties fiscal space and administrative authority. But without vision, those powers become tools for personal enrichment rather than public service. Visionary leaders understand that political office is stewardship. They modernize revenue systems, reduce leakages, strengthen procurement oversight, and reinvest funds into visible, high-impact sectors such as healthcare, education, agriculture, and water.

Contrast this with several counties in northern Kenya or even Nakuru, where despite significant allocations, social progress has lagged. In some northern counties, vast sums have been absorbed by recurrent expenditure, inflated contracts, ghost projects, and opaque procurement. Instead of building resilient water systems, pastoralist support structures, or modern health facilities in underserved areas, resources have too often been diverted into private wealth accumulation. Nakuru, despite being economically strategic and centrally located, has also faced governance challenges that dilute its potential. It is not that these counties lack money; it is that they lack focused, ethical, and visionary leadership.

The tragedy is that devolution amplifies both excellence and incompetence. A good governor can transform a county within one term. A corrupt one can set it back a decade. Because decision-making is localized, the consequences—positive or negative—are immediate and visible.

Consider healthcare. When a county invests in hospitals, recruits staff, equips laboratories, and digitizes patient records, mortality rates decline, maternal outcomes improve, and households avoid catastrophic medical expenses. That has ripple effects on productivity and poverty reduction. Conversely, when funds meant for medical supplies are siphoned off, patients suffer, and trust in government erodes.

Consider agriculture. When counties support farmers with extension services, inputs, and market linkages, rural incomes grow. When funds disappear into private accounts, farmers remain vulnerable and dependent.

Consider early childhood education. When ECDE classrooms are built and teachers employed, literacy rates improve over time. When those projects stall, inequality deepens.

Devolution works where leadership treats public funds as sacred. It fails where public office is treated as an investment opportunity.

Kiambu’s expansion of healthcare facilities and ECDE classrooms demonstrates fiscal prioritization. Murang’a’s agricultural empowerment shows innovation aligned with local strengths. Makueni’s participatory governance model under Kivutha Kibwana illustrates that integrity and citizen involvement can coexist with efficiency.

Critics often argue that devolution has simply decentralized corruption. That critique is valid in some contexts. But it is incomplete. Devolution has also decentralized opportunity. It has allowed counties with capable leadership to bypass national bureaucratic delays and respond directly to local needs.

The deeper question for Kenyans is not whether devolution works. It clearly can. The question is whether voters are willing to consistently elect visionary leaders over wealthy populists. Are citizens scrutinizing county budgets? Are they demanding audit accountability? Are they measuring governors by health outcomes, school infrastructure, water access, and economic empowerment rather than handouts and political theatrics?

Counties in northern Kenya face unique challenges—aridity, insecurity, sparse populations—but those challenges make visionary leadership even more critical, not less. With proper investment in water harvesting, livestock value chains, renewable energy, and climate adaptation, these regions could thrive. Nakuru, with its industrial and agricultural base, could be a model county. The limiting factor is rarely resources ; it is the lack of direction.

Devolution is not the problem. Leadership is.

Where governors are disciplined, transparent, and future-oriented, counties progress. Where leaders prioritize personal wealth accumulation, devolution becomes hollow.

Kiambu, Murang’a, and Makueni demonstrate that when vision meets fiscal responsibility, social progress is possible. Hospitals rise. Classrooms multiply. Farmers prosper. Water flows. Citizens participate.

That is the promise of devolution. And when properly stewarded, it works.