Kenya’s leaders found wanting by society

There may be no better guide to Kenya 50 years after independence than the way it dealt with the fallout from the Westgate terror attack.

The most successful responses were carried out in spite of the government, a state of affairs that characterises much of Kenya’s society and economy today.

Civilian volunteers and plain clothes police ran into the Nairobi mall regardless of their safety when four gunmen began a shooting spree at Kenya’s premier shopping centre one Saturday lunchtime in September.

They saved hundreds of lives. Those who could lay their hands on weapons included former British military and well-connected Somali entrepreneurs, revealing the extent of gun ownership in a city where people fear deadly crime is growing.

Kenya’s sophisticated and wide embrace of technology meant the trapped could text and tweet their whereabouts; the attackers were caught on CCTV. So were the soldiers who looted during the four-day siege.

But it was the ethnic neighbourhoods of Nairobi, led by one Indian community, that immediately knew how to organise themselves, donning high-visibility jackets, moving corpses and marshalling first aid and fizzy drinks for the rescue effort.

The very existence of these groups reveals a divided and unequal society – they exist partly to organise a speedy defence against crime and ethnically targeted threats because they cannot count on the state to do it.

“We must begin offering true service and be people of integrity in this land,” said President Uhuru Kenyatta in a day of admissions this month. “The biggest corruption in Kenya occurs in the office of the president; the security-related agencies are the basis of corruption in this country.”

Mr Kenyatta, son of the country’s founding father Jomo Kenyatta, was elected in March this year amid much controversy, winning just over 50 per cent of the vote. A challenge to the results by the runner-up, outgoing prime minister Raila Odinga, was rejected after intense scrutiny by Kenya’s supreme court.

The new president, Kenya’s fourth, has appointed business-savvy technocrats at the top of government, set up a website to report corruption, and beaten the drum for national unity.

But the state has proved wanting.

Soldiers shot at police inside the mall, giving the attackers the upper hand; security agencies briefed against each other; bodies may still be left in the rubble. The Islamist attackers, who said they wanted Kenya’s military to pull out of Somalia, spent nearly four months in Nairobi’s neglected Somali neighbourhood, another ethnic enclave that lacks even a police post.

Mr Kenyatta has sought to exploit international divisions and turn Westgate to his political advantage, shifting his role from robust international statesman to fiery embattled indictee.

Along with his deputy William Ruto, he is accused by the International Criminal Court of crimes against humanity for his alleged role in 2008’s post-election violence. More than 1,600 people were killed, the last time the country’s deep ethnic and class inequalities exploded.

Mr Kenyatta’s previously measured speeches have turned angry as the date for his trial has approached, claiming the ICC, where he is due to stand trial in February, is the “toy of declining imperial powers”.

When the UN Security Council did not grant the president a deferral on account of Westgate, Kenya claimed all Africa had been humiliated, driving a wedge between the continent and the court’s supporters and irritating western partners that help fund education and health spending.

The hardline stance may isolate Kenya from the west: “We are closer than many would think to a Zimbabweanisation of Kenya,” says a senior foreign official.

Kenya is already looking to new partners, with high-profile visits to China, Russia and the Middle East, and is well aware its best partners – politically and economically – are now resolutely African: Kenya exports twice as much to Africa as to Europe. It imports three times as much from Asia as from Europe.

It is also reassuring, perhaps, that Kenya’s economic swagger always returns, even after an event as serious as the Westgate massacre. The mall’s traders are already planning their reopening. In September at a conference held jointly with the International Monetary Fund, Mr Kenyatta admitted the country was underperforming, but said the outlook was “excellent”.

The economy has not, after all, suffered the serious blow it has experienced in previous election years – growth is likely to reach 5.7 per cent this year, according to the World Bank. The 2013 polls, although contested, passed off largely peacefully.

The Bank expects growth to rise to 6 per cent next year, the highest rate since the 7 per cent achieved in 2007. The stock market, banking and telecommunications are doing very well, and there are hopes that huge infrastructure investment will transform the way business and trading is done.

“Generally, I buy the take-off argument and double-digit growth is do-able. The basic ingredients are there for this country to be a powerhouse in 20 years’ time,” says a western official.

But getting there has always been Kenya’s problem, and the obstacle has tended to be a clique that has delivered success only to the elite.

The country’s leaders may be sufficiently aware of that to do something about it. They are now constitutionally compelled to devolve power and budgets to counties and to safeguard an independent judiciary. But some threats are returning – efforts to limit the media and frustrate activists may soon carry legal force.

“We are deeply concerned about the media bill and NGO amendments – ultimately Kenya needs space, diversity and prosperity to reach Vision 2030,” says a western diplomat of Kenya’s ambition to become a middle-income country.

Despite growth, the economic trajectory looks tight. The government cannot afford its wage bill, which sucks up half its revenues, people complain of empty pockets, exports are static, and agriculture – the biggest employer – is perennially ignored.

“There’s growth, but it’s not lifting everybody up,” says Gabriel Negatu, regional head at the African Development Bank.

For Njuguna Ndung’u, Kenya’s central bank governor, the best hope is that a younger generation is armed with what he terms an “instant coffee mentality”.

“People are more impatient; they want evolution yesterday and they want it to be working,” he says.

The country’s elite may have a new force to contend with: a demanding public with an appetite for success.