Nairobi and its Discontents (or, Nairobi Si Ya Mama Yako)

Has it ever occurred to you that, more than half a century since independence, Nairobi is still, primarily a colonial city? In its design, use and administration, Nairobi still presumes a relationship between itself and its inhabitants little-changed from the 1940s and before:

-       The relationship between Nairobi and its people is primarily one of labour provision:

o   It is expected that people will come from the outskirts of the city and beyond, provide labour and leave the city by sunset (or thereabouts)

o   No one actually ‘comes from Nairobi’ – even if one is here for decades, it is assumed that your Nairobi relationship is an itinerant one – you came from somewhere and you will return there once you are done labouring.

o   Unless you are actively providing labour within the city’s confines, it is assumed your intention is either malevolent or otherwise malignant. This is why crimes such as loitering etc. remain on our books. One cannot possibly come to the city to mark time, or roam around – they must be ‘going somewhere’, even if that somewhere is to look for work. That is why it is easy to assume that young women in the city centre late at night are in the ‘wrong place’, and must be there with the intention of prostitution; young men, also, must be thugs, if they are on the streets at night. You were all supposed to have cleared from Nairobi at sundown.

o   In this, Nairobi resembles nothing so much as apartheid-era Johannesburg – a city centre surrounded by distant settlements for its workers.

-       The housing patterns of Nairobi also reflect this colonial aesthetic. Think about the major housing centres serving Nairobi. Except for the notable exceptions of Ngara and Eastleigh, most are at least five, and typically more than ten, kilometres away. This means that all civic life in Nairobi happens away from the city. With the increasing hunger for commercial property, as well as non-existent zoning enforcement, even higher-income settlements that have been close to the city centre are gradually being forced to convert to commercial use. So if you had a nice bungalow in Westlands, or Upper Hill, or even Kilimani and Kileleshwa, whence you could walk or bike to work in the city, you’re now being squeezed out. Even if you don’t want to sell, your quality of life is destroyed by being surrounded by high-rise commercial buildings (think about it – you now cannot bask in your backyard in Upper Hill or Westlands without some pimply young people in adjacent high-rise buildings leering down at you. You eventually sell and leave).

-       One of the best illustrations of this ‘everyone comes from somewhere else’ is when John Michuki was busy implementing his matatu changes in 2004. He declared that those who would lose jobs as drivers and touts were free to go back to their shags (I think he even called it ‘reserve’, but my memory may not be that accurate). Until I overheard a conversation in a matatu where one of the touts said – mimi nilizaliwa Kawangware; mama yangu alizaliwa Kawangware; nitarudi ushago gani? (I was born in Kawangware; my mother was born in Kawangware; what ancestral home am I supposed to go back to?)

-       Nairobi’s transport also ignores the city it supposedly serves. A vast majority of Nairobi’s people do not drive. As a matter of fact, a significant proportion of the city’s population do not even take public transport. They walk. Their vegetables are delivered by mkokoteni. Their goods are delivered by motorcycle. Yet the city infrastructure we have so proudly built over the years does not anticipate, or accommodate, that. If you wanted to walk from Eastlands (or even Westlands) to town, are there adequate footpaths, shelters, toilets and refreshment points all the way? Are there paths for mkokotenis, or do they end up on the highways, to their own and motor vehicles’ inconvenience? Can you safely ride a bicycle in any part of the city? Can children walk safely to the shops and back? Where are these shops, in relation to the homes?

-       Nairobi does not have a town square. Think about it – if we wanted to have a public event, where would we do it in a non-commercialised, non-privatised space? Beyond Uhuru and Central Parks, every other potential space is not available to Nairobi’s people. The space helmed by Kencom, Hilton and the National Archives has not been a viable public space since the 1970s. KICC, which was supposed to be a public space, is now better ‘protected’ than any police station in Nairobi, against its own people. Every other space you can think of needs entry fees, or is located away from where people actually live and congregate. Many neighbourhoods are designed with no regard for common, free spaces (playgrounds, promenades etc).

Nairobi is not a city built for its people. It is a city built for labour and government, and little else. It is a city that starts with the physical (buildings and roads), and is then surprised when these buildings and roads fail to work.

So what must be done? That is the subject of Part 2 of this post.