Let the Kite Perch and the Eagle Perch: Greed, Power, and the Cost to a Nation

 

Chinua Achebe said, You’ll have what is good for you and I will have what is good for me. Let the kite perch, and let the eagle perch too. If one says no to the other, let his wings break. In those simple lines lies a philosophy of justice and coexistence. Achebe reminds us that a healthy society is one where everyone has space to live, grow, and survive. The powerful do not monopolize opportunity, and the weak are not pushed out of the sky. But when greed takes over, this balance collapses. The eagle begins to believe the entire sky belongs to it.

This imbalance is not abstract; it has real, devastating consequences. Across many nations, political leadership has drifted from stewardship to self-enrichment. Public office, once meant to serve citizens, has increasingly become a pathway to wealth accumulation. When politicians place personal gain above public welfare, the damage spreads across every aspect of society, education, healthcare, infrastructure, and even the safety of everyday life.

Few examples capture this failure more vividly than the recurring floods in Nairobi. Every rainy season brings the same images: families stranded on rooftops, homes swallowed by muddy water, vehicles submerged in streets that have turned into rivers. Businesses lose property, families lose livelihoods, and tragically, some people lose their lives. What should be a manageable seasonal challenge has become a recurring disaster. Yet these floods are not simply the result of heavy rain. They are the result of human choices—decades of poor planning, unchecked construction on riparian land, neglected drainage systems, and above all, political greed.

The irony is painful. Nairobi’s county leadership regularly announces drainage rehabilitation projects, budget allocations, and infrastructure upgrades meant to prevent flooding. Millions, sometimes billionsare allocated in the name of fixing drainage systems. But when the rain falls, the same neighborhoods flood again. The same streets become impassable. The same citizens suffer the same losses. It raises an unavoidable question: where does the money actually go?

Too often, these projects become another channel through which public funds disappear. Contracts are issued, budgets are approved, announcements are made but the work either remains incomplete or is executed so poorly that it solves nothing. The cycle then repeats: new budgets, new promises, new opportunities for enrichment. Meanwhile, the residents of the city continue to bear the consequences. In this arrangement, the eagle continues to feast while the kite struggles to survive the storm.

Greed transforms governance into something predatory. Instead of asking how public resources can protect citizens, leaders ask how those resources can protect their own interests. Infrastructure projects become less about solving problems and more about creating financial opportunities for political allies and contractors. Drainage rehabilitation becomes not a solution but a recurring business model one that benefits the few while leaving the many exposed to danger.

The human cost of this greed cannot be measured only in lost property or damaged roads. It is measured in lives disrupted and dignity eroded. Imagine a family that has spent years building a small home, only to watch floodwaters destroy it overnight. Imagine small business owners whose shops are repeatedly damaged by floods that should have been prevented. Imagine parents wading through dangerous waters just to rescue their children or salvage belongings. These are not natural tragedies; they are policy failures.

And yet accountability rarely follows. Investigations are promised but rarely completed. Unfit leaders remain in office. No significant consequences are faced by those responsible for negligence or corruption. Over time, this lack of accountability sends a dangerous message: that the suffering of ordinary citizens is acceptable collateral in the pursuit of wealth and power.

Achebe’s proverb offers a moral framework for understanding this crisis. The kite and the eagle are both part of the ecosystem. One cannot deny the other its place without destabilizing the balance of the sky. When leaders hoard resources meant for the public, they are effectively pushing the kite out of its perch. They are claiming the branches, the sky, and the wind for themselves. But Achebe warns us that such imbalance eventually carries consequences. If one refuses to allow the other to perch, something must break.

In the case of Nairobi, what breaks are roads, homes, and lives. But the deeper fracture occurs within the social contract between citizens and their leaders. A government that cannot or will not protect its people from preventable disasters gradually loses its legitimacy. Trust erodes, frustration grows, and the sense of shared national purpose weakens.

The tragedy is that the solutions are neither mysterious nor impossible. Proper urban planning, strict enforcement of building regulations, transparent procurement processes, and consistent maintenance of drainage systems could significantly reduce flooding in Nairobi. These are practical measures that many cities around the world have implemented successfully. What stands in the way is not a lack of knowledge but a lack of political will.

Achebe’s wisdom challenges both leaders and citizens to rethink the purpose of power. Leadership should ensure that everyone has a place to perch, that public resources serve public needs, that development benefits communities, and that governance prioritizes the common good over private enrichment. When this balance is restored, societies flourish.

But when greed takes over, the sky becomes crowded with eagles and empty of kites. And no nation can truly rise when its leaders forget that the sky was meant for all.