The last opinion polls have been published and the final rallies announced for Saturday 5th August. The long, painful political race in Kenya is almost over. It is time therefore to produce my third and final review of events since mid-July and my eve of poll prediction of the results in the upcoming general election.
As with the first two pieces, this is a not-for-profit work, which does not campaign for any party or make value judgements about either’s fitness for office. I am not perfectly neutral of course. Having made a series of predictions over the last year, I may be too embedded in my own thinking and place more weight on evidence that supports my previous opinion than that which contradicts it. Only time will tell. It is based on the idea that things will carry on much as before over the last few days before the poll, and that there will not for example be a major terrorist incident or the death or injury of a senior politician. In such situations, all bets are off.
So, where do we stand at the presidential level? The lacklustre Jubilee campaign improved from May 2017 onwards, but still seems – as I said in June – “strangely unconvincing”. They have “poured” less money into the campaign than expected, though this is changing in the last few days with a centrally organised mobilisation using county assembly members (MCA) to cement their homelands and get the vote out. Jubilee as a party has barely campaigned in the national media, instead using cabinet secretaries and state media to sell its achievements and focussing most of its party campaigning messages regionally. Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto have been dispatched on a punishing schedule nationwide for the last two months, most of their messages focussing on local development and jobs for local communities, but with a subtext of “we may not be perfect, but we have delivered some things, and better the devil you know than the devil you don’t”. In the last two or three weeks, the drift to NASA has stopped and their respective vote shares have stabilised. There are fewer and fewer “undecideds”. There is confidence in the Jubilee campaign, but they remain jittery and there seems a consensus that their campaign has been poor.
However, [NASA’s] main “bandwagon” strategy – that they can and will win – has been undermined by their repeated claims of election rigging by or through the IEBC, of which there have been more than 30 during the last 12 months.
The NASA alliance meanwhile has continued to campaign effectively and appears to have matched Jubilee financially, though they are apparently running short of money in the last few days. Their criticisms of state corruption and high food prices and promises of greater inclusion resonate with many (though they also discourage others for whom inclusion means an ethnic affirmative action programme). However, their main “bandwagon” strategy – that they can and will win – has been undermined by their repeated claims of election rigging by or through the IEBC, of which there have been more than 30 during the last 12 months. Some have been genuine and valid concerns, but many others have not. NASA now have a poor reputation for accuracy and have made several potentially unwise and incendiary statements. While many in NASA genuinely believe they will win, it seems some are preparing to demand power-sharing and negotiated democracy when they lose, using their history of allegations and the events of polling day to demand that Western powers intervene.
There have been several more opinion polls since my last piece, but the key ones were both published on 1 August (the last day that polls are permitted under Kenyan law). IPSOS’ results matched closely their July poll: a 3- point lead for Kenyatta by 47% to 44%, with 8% still undecided, refused to answer or not voting. Reapportioning the undecideds, this gives Uhuru and Ruto a 52% to 48% lead. Infotrak’s poll produced a tiny lead for Odinga by 50% to 49%, but the normal methodology for the poll was absent. TIFA and Infotrak also produced several county-level polls during the period (on Nairobi, Embu, Mombasa and Kakamega amongst others). Although these are less reliable and some may have been “tweaked” to favour particular candidates, they still provide useful data at county level (if taken with a pinch of salt).
The alliances also use their own resources to poll voters, trying all the time to hone their message and focus in on swing voters. Whilst voter targeting through social media platforms is less sophisticated than in western markets (and much cheaper to buy), it is in use in Kenya. Jubilee have spent significantly on Google, Facebook etc both in advertisements and sponsored links. Unfortunately, social media has also been the platform for delivery of an unprecedentedly high level of fake news, with anonymous identities used to seed fake videos, opinion polls and agreements between politicians into Twitter, WhatsApp and other loosely networked platforms which persuade a few that they are true (cementing prejudices they already had) but are also picked up by the mainstream media and thereby have a secondary impact. The widespread use of fakes and lies in the campaign by both sides has further brought into question the probity of Kenya’s political class.
The size and scale gap between 2013 and every other election for the past 15 years is hard to explain. So, building a turnout model based on 2013 and adjusting for changes since then risked building in rigging to the prediction.
Regionally, there has been modest “churn” – no county or community has switched sides entirely, but some have moved one way, some the other by a few percentage points. It appears that NASA are indeed stronger in Meru than I assessed in July (though Jubilee will still win easily), and have cemented their hold on the Maasai vote, but Jubilee is stronger in Bungoma and Bomet. There have been few public defections by significant political players, and the agreements stitched together by both alliances with small parties to support one or other’s presidential bid have all held firm.
Predicting the Presidency
Trying to improve on my presidential prediction model, I have made a dozen or more changes in vote share predictions in response to the opinion polls, significant rallies and other less tangible factors. I’ve shifted Nairobi even further towards NASA (now 55% for Odinga, 44% for Kenyatta), though I think it will be closer than recent polls suggest. In Machakos, Bungoma, Trans-Nzoia, Migori and Bomet I’ve upped the prediction of Jubilee’s performance, but reduced it in Narok and Kajiado (though Jubilee may still win Kajiado because of the non-Maasai population), Kiambu (parts of which are now a multi-ethnic suburb of Nairobi), Turkana and Meru. The strength of the internal insurgencies in Bomet (Isaac Rutto) and Machakos (Alfred Mutua) remain some of the great imponderables, with public and private polls giving contrary results and few sure of the outcome. Opinion polls are also giving Odinga more support among the Somali of Mandera, Wajir and Garissa than an examination of the parties’ candidates and the history of negotiated democracy between Somali clans and sub clans would suggest.
I still predict a Jubilee victory by 52% for Kenyatta and Ruto to 48% for Odinga and Musyoka, with all others less than 1% combined. On a 76% turnout, that would be just under 8 million votes for Jubilee and just over 7 million for NASA.
The other change made to the model is more significant. For some time I have been wrestling with an ethical problem. Reviewing the 2013 turnouts, in comparison with that from previous national elections since 2002, it became clear with the benefit of hindsight that turnouts were implausibly high not just in Luo Nyanza and Central Province, but in many other places. Even given the greater attention and sensitivity around the 2013 polls, the suspicion is that both parties found ways to pad their vote, and that this happened in many places. The graph below shows the turnout by county for every national presidential election or referendum since 2002, with 2013 bolded in red. The size and scale gap between 2013 and every other election for the past 15 years is hard to explain.
So, building a turnout model based on 2013 and adjusting for changes since then risked building in rigging to the prediction. It might be more accurate – because if they have done it before, they may find a way to do it again – but it’s not right. So, instead I have changed to a weighted average model of turnout in the last five national contests: the 2013 presidency, the 2010 constitutional referendum, the 2007 presidential election, the 2005 constitutional referendum and the 2002 presidential election. Three of these are generally accepted to have been “free and fair”. The new model is weighted because it takes 50% of its prediction from 2013, 25% from 2010, 12.5% from 2007, and 7.5% from each of 2005 and 2002. The result of applying this change is that predicted turnout drops sharply, though it continues to follow the same national pattern (Central Province and Nyanza the highest, Coast the lowest).
To my surprise, when reviewing the IEBC list of gubernatorial candidates, there are 13 counties were NASA has not put up a candidate from any allied party, already conceding the seat to Jubilee and potentially depressing the Odinga Presidential vote there. There are only two (Makueni and Vihiga) which Jubilee has similarly conceded.
Putting it all together, the predicted result has changed since July, but not by much. I still predict a Jubilee victory by 52% for Kenyatta and Ruto to 48% for Odinga and Musyoka, with all others less than 1% combined. On a 76% turnout, that would be just under 8 million votes for Jubilee and just over 7 million for NASA. This assumes that the new IEBC technology delivers at least some of what it promises, by preventing the dead from voting and clerks from voting for absent voters after the polls close.
Note: one box is one county, whatever its geographical or population size.
Around the Counties
Turning to the counties and the Gubernatorial races, there have been few surprises, except for the inability of either side to get their defectors (standing as independents or as candidates in allied parties) to stand down. The pressure now to do deals will be intense and several more will retire over the weekend. NASA still risks losing the governorship in one or more of Taita-Taveta, Kwale, Lamu and Narok due to split votes (though they solved their problem in Machakos). There is a tension here, as intense local competition within an alliance pushes up the Presidential vote for their side, while it risks a split vote and losing the seat at county level, which partly explains the ambivalence of both party leaders in addressing the problem. I still predict that Mike Sonko will win Nairobi, narrowly but Peter Kenneth’s persistence despite entreaties from Uhuru, and his 3-5% support base might allow Kidero to be re-elected on a split pro-Jubilee vote. Most of my other predictions remain unchanged, though KANU is putting up a decent showing as the only real opposition to Jubilee in the North Rift, and in Western the situation is increasingly confusing as ANC, ODM and FORD Kenya take on each other as much as Jubilee. I’m predicting Wamanagati (Ford Kenya) to take Bungoma, Otuoma (pro-Raila independent) Busia, Oparanya (ODM) Kakamega and Chanzu (ANC) Vihiga. To my surprise, when reviewing the IEBC list of gubernatorial candidates, there are 13 counties were NASA has not put up a candidate from any allied party, already conceding the seat to Jubilee and potentially depressing the Odinga Presidential vote there. There are only two (Makueni and Vihiga) which Jubilee has similarly conceded.
Overall, my final prediction is 24 Governorships for Jubilee and its allies (including KANU, FAP, PDR, EFP, PDP, PNU, MCC, NARC-Kenya and pro-Uhuru independents) and 23 for NASA and their allies and independents, a slight improvement on Jubilee’s performance in 2013. Senator and Women representatives will follow a similar pattern, though there will be less ”six piece suite” voting than in 2013, when voters’ had no experience with their roles in the new political structure. But a voter’s choice of ticket is more likely to stem either from their Presidential and Governor preference or from their MCA and Parliamentary choice, less often from their Women’s Rep or Senator.
It is the constituency Returning Officer who is the formal declarer of the presidential results (as with parliament and MCA), and therefore the electronic results sent direct from polling stations to the screens at the Bomas of Kenya are advisory only.
At the 290 parliamentary constituencies level, it is near-impossible to apply the same level of scrutiny, but at a high level, the pattern is similar. Roughly 54% of parliamentary constituencies look like being pro-Jubilee (including affiliate parties and independents); 46% pro-NASA.
An Uncomfortably “Hot” Seat
The situation for the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC) is far from comfortable, tasked with running every aspect of this election under intense and hostile scrutiny. The design of the Kenya Integrated Election Management System (KIEMS), which will be used (for the first time) to capture, check and transfer the polling station results to the counts, looks strong on paper. If the system has been built as intended, it is a robust and effective tool to control rigging and ease results transmission. However, there is still the risk of errors in the IT implementation (which only extensive testing would detect) or security flaws, plus the ever-present risk of human error. And there remain confusions among the public as to whether the electronic results sent from the polling stations or the Form 34 results are the “master” (it is the latter), and whether the court’s decision regarding declaration of results empowered the polling station presiding officer or the constituency Returning Officer to announce the presidential results (again the latter). It is the constituency Returning Officer who is the formal declarer of the presidential results (as with parliament and MCA), and therefore the electronic results sent direct from polling stations to the screens at the Bomas of Kenya are advisory only. If there is a partial or systematic failure in the electronic systems or in the mobile networks (as there was in 2013) forcing some POs to “go manual”, there will be a gap between the (incomplete) automated results displayed and the (complete) official results from scanned and physical form 34s, which will take longer to arrive (being sent by email). The IEBC has decided not to announce constituency results, relying on Returning Officers to do so instead, but the result will be a discrepancy between the real tally and the one displayed on the screen, which could be the source of serious misunderstandings. This could be even more of a worry because the results will trend in favour of NASA at the start (as the urban areas are mostly pro-NASA) and towards Jubilee towards the end (most of the biggest, semi-arid northern counties are pro-Jubilee). Unlike in 2013, when the commission chair repeatedly informed Kenyans that only the paper results were valid and the electronic system just a check on them, the IEBC has been far less clear this time, relying on the mantra that “We do not expect any variances between the forms and the electronic data.”
The IEBC needs to develop and publish protocols for how it will handle various failure scenarios (such as : the KIEMS electronic transmission doesn’t match the scanned form 34; there are two form 34s; the scanned form 34 has been clumsily altered; there is no physical form 34 at all; there is a failure of the electronic system half way through polling) before they actually occur, to reduce the risk that they are accused of ‘cooking’ the results when – rather than if – things go wrong.
The unprecedented level of scrutiny by the courts of the IEBC’s actions during 2016-17 has improved the integrity of the process and public confidence in it, but it has severely delayed the IEBC’s preparations.
Their recent announcement that clerks would no longer mark the register when voters voted electronically was a smart anti-rigging move, as it mean clerks don’t know who voted, and that means they can’t go manual and “fill in” the votes for those who didn’t turn up by closing time (as is suspected to have happened in the homelands before). However, it introduces a new risk – if the electronic system fails midway through the day, then voters who voted in the morning electronically could all vote again in the afternoon physically (if they can get the ink off their fingers), which would cause complete chaos if it occurred on a large scale. Nobody really understands how a mixed mode election might work in a polling station if the electronic systems fail part way through for whatever reason.
The unprecedented level of scrutiny by the courts of the IEBC’s actions during 2016-17 has improved the integrity of the process and public confidence in it, but it has severely delayed the IEBC’s preparations. Despite their public protestations, things are far from smooth and the murder of their ICT head Chris Msando has further stressed an already pressured organisation and brought once more into sharp relief the risks of election rigging at the IEBC headquarters, despite the fact that presidential results will be issued at the constituency level. Conspiracy theorists, of which Kenya is never short, have developed several lines of thought as to why Msando was killed. Few believe his death was unconnected to his IEBC role, but the logic as to why it was done remains impenetrable. Hard-line elements in Jubilee (or the security services) are the main suspect in the minds of many, but Jubilee is the main loser from Msando’s death and the manner in which it occurred, as it strengthened fears about the risk of rigging, deepened speculation about passwords and backdoors into the IT systems, and provided yet more ‘grist to the mill’ for NASA to demand that the election be annulled in the event they lose. The possibility that it was a message to others in the IEBC organisation to follow orders on election day cannot be discounted either.
As well as the IEBC’s own systems and collation activity, several news desks and the main political parties will be running parallel constituency level counts. The ELOG domestic observer group will also be running a parallel vote tabulation, texting in the results from a sample of 1700 polling stations, which should provide a degree of validation (if available in time) for the IEBC’s results. International and domestic are also fanning out across the country this weekend to add their more anecdotal assessments of whether the election was conducted freely and fairly. The situation as the results come in is going to be even more noisy and confused than before, and if fake news is injected into the mix, the cocktail is potentially explosive.
The situation as the results come in is going to be even more noisy and confused than before, and if fake news is injected into the mix, the cocktail is potentially explosive.
Looking at the risk of post-election violence, it is near certain that there will be trouble somewhere, but it is unlikely to occur with the ferocity and scope of 2007. The security forces are far better prepared, and the continued alliance between Ruto and Kenyatta and Kikuyu and Kalenjin neutralises the fault line with the greatest potential for trouble. But there will be violence in Nairobi, Kisumu and elsewhere as the results come out if NASA have lost or if the electronic systems fail early on (few have considered a situation where the security forces are called out to respond to mass violence by pro-Jubilee youth if they are defeated). Much depends on how far the loser’s leaders are willing to go. The two key factors influencing the likelihood of trouble are the size of the winning margin for the victor and the success or failure of the IEBC in administering the election effectively, without obvious rigging. If the election is well run, turnouts and results reasonable and the margin of victory 5% or more, there will still be complaints and localised demonstrations, but they will be modest and limited. If the result is within 2% (i.e. 51%-49%) or the election proves an administrative mess and rigging is visible and widespread, the risk of trouble on 10-11 August rises dramatically. While the losers have the option to escalate to the Supreme Court through a petition, the opposition’s attempt in 2013 was unsuccessful, hamstrung by the short timeframes and burden of proof, and they are indicating an unwillingness to take that route again, in which case mass action and street violence is quite likely.
If the result is within 2% (i.e. 51%-49%) or the election proves an administrative mess and rigging is visible and widespread, the risk of trouble on 10-11 August rises dramatically.
For now, having published this prediction, I have to step back and stand or fall by it. In a strange way, if I am proved wrong, this will be good news for the country, as it will demonstrate that the old rules of “bribe and tribe” no longer dominate Kenya’s politics. Whatever the result, I wish you all the best and look forward to seeing you all “safe and sound” on the other side.
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Lagos From Its Margins: Everyday Experiences in a Migrant Haven
From its beginnings as a fishing village, Lagos has grown into a large metropolis that attracts migrants seeking opportunity or Internally Displaced Persons fleeing violence.
Lagos, City of Migrants
From its origins as a fishing village in the 1600s, Lagos has urbanised stealthily into a vast metropolis, wielding extensive economic, political and cultural influence on Nigeria and beyond. Migration in search of opportunities has been the major factor responsible for the demographic and spatial growth of the city as Lagos has grown from 60,221 in 1872 to over 23 million people today. The expansion of the city also comes with tensions around indigene-settler dynamics, especially in accessing land, political influence and urban resources. There are also categories of migrants whose status determines if they can lay hold of the “urban advantage” that relocating to a large city offers.
A major impetus to the evolution of modern Lagos is the migration of diverse groups of people from Nigeria’s hinterland and beyond. By the 1800s, waves of migrants (freed slaves) from Brazil and Freetown had made their way to Lagos, while many from Nigeria’s hinterland including the Ekiti, Nupes, Egbas and Ijebus began to settle in ethnic enclaves across the city. In the 1900s, migrant enclaves were based on socio-economic and/or ethnicity status. Hausas (including returnees from the Burma war) settled in Obalende and Agege, while the Ijaw and Itsekiri settled in waterfront communities around Ajegunle and Ijora. International migrant communities include the Togolese, Beninoise and Ghanaian, as well as large communities of Lebanese and Indian migrants. The names and socio-cultural mix in most Lagos communities derive from these historical migrant trajectories.
A study on coordinated migrations found that, as a destination city, Lagos grew 18.6 per cent between 2000 and 2012, with about 96 per cent of the migrants coming from within Nigeria. While migration to Lagos has traditionally been in search of economic opportunities, new classes of migrants have emerged over the last few decades. These are itinerant migrants and internally displaced persons.
Itinerant migrants are those from other areas of Nigeria and West Africa who travel to work in Lagos while keeping their families back home. Mobility cycles can be weekly, monthly or seasonal. Such migrants have no address in Lagos as they often sleep at their work premises or in mosques, saving all their earned income for remittance. They include construction artisans from Benin and Togo who come to Lagos only when they have jobs, farmers from Nigeria’s northern states who come to Lagos to work as casual labourers in between farming seasons (see box), as well as junior staff in government and corporate offices whose income is simply too small to cover the high cost of living in Lagos.
While people from Nigeria’s hinterland continue to arrive in the city in droves, the wave of West African in-migration has ebbed significantly. This is mostly because of the economic challenges Nigeria is currently facing that have crashed the Naira-to-CFA exchange rates. As a result, young men from Togo, Ghana and Benin are finding cities like Dakar and Banjul more attractive than Lagos.
Aliu* aka Mr Bushman, from Sokoto, Age 28
Aliu came to Lagos in 2009 on the back of a cattle truck. His first job was in the market carrying goods for market patrons. He slept in the neighbourhood mosque with other young boys. Over the years, he has done a number of odd jobs including construction work. In 2014, he started to work as a commercial motorcyclist (okada) and later got the opportunity to learn how to repair them. He calls himself an engineer and for the past four years has earned his income exclusively from riding and repairing okada. Even though he can afford to rent a room, he currently lives in a shared shack with seven other migrants.
He makes between N5000 and N8000 weekly and sends most of it to his family through a local transport operator who goes to Sokoto weekly. His wife and three children are in the village, but he would rather send them money than bring them to Lagos. According to him, “The life in Lagos is too hard for women”.
Since he came to Lagos thirteen years ago, Aliu has never spent more than four months away from Sokoto at a time. He stays in Sokoto during the rainy season to farm rice, maize and guinea corn, and has travelled back home to vote every time since he came to Lagos.
The second category of migrants are those who have been displaced from their homesteads in Northern Nigeria by conflict, either Boko Haram insurgency or invasions by Fulani herdsmen. The crises have resulted in the violent destruction of many communities, with hundreds of thousands killed and many more forced to flee. With many who initially settled in camps for Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) dissatisfied with camp conditions, the burden of protracted displacement is now spurring a new wave of IDP migration to urban areas. Even though empirical data on the exact number of displaced persons migrating out of camps to cities is difficult to ascertain, it is obvious that this category of migrants are negotiating their access to the city and its resources in circumstances quite different from those of other categories of migrants.
IDPs as the emerging migrant class in Lagos
According to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees, two of every three internally displaced persons globally are now living in cities. Evidence from Nigeria suggests that many IDPs are migrating to urban areas in search of relative safety and resettlement opportunities, with Lagos estimated to host the highest number of independent IDP migrants in the country. In moving to Lagos, IDPs are shaping the city in a number of ways including appropriating public spaces and accelerating the formation of new settlements.
There are three government-supported IDP camps in the city, with anecdotal evidence pointing to about eighteen informal IDP shack communities across the city’s peri-urban axis. This correlates with studies from other cities that highlight how this category of habitations (as initial shelter solutions for self-settled IDPs) accelerate the formation of new urban informal settlements and spatial agglomerations of poverty and vulnerability.
While people from Nigeria’s hinterland continue to arrive in the city in droves, the wave of West African in-migration has ebbed significantly.
IDPs in Lagos move around a lot. Adamu, who currently lives in Owode Mango—a shack community near the Lagos Free Trade zone—and has been a victim of forced eviction four times said, “As they [government or land owners] get ready to demolish this place and render us homeless again, we will move to another area and live there until they catch up with us.”
In the last ten years, there has been an increase in the number of homeless people on the streets of Lagos—either living under bridges, in public parks or incomplete buildings. Many of them are IDPs who are new migrants, and unable to access the support necessary to ease their entry into the city’s established slums or government IDP camps. Marcus, who came from Adamawa State in 2017 and has been living under the Obalende Bridge for five years, said, “I am still managing, living under the bridge. I won’t do this forever, my life will not end like this under a bridge. I hope to one day return to my home and continue my life”.
Blending in or not: Urban integration strategies
Urban integration can be a real challenge for IDP migrants. Whereas voluntary migrants are often perceived to be legal entrants to the city and so can lay claim to urban resources, the same cannot be said about IDPs. Despite being citizens, and despite Nigeria being a federation, IDPs do not have the same rights as other citizens in many Nigerian cities and constantly face stigmatisation and harassment, which reinforces their penchant for enclaving.
The lack of appropriate documentation and skillsets also denies migrants full entry into the socio-economic system. For example, Rebekah said: “I had my WAEC [Senior Secondary school leaving certificate] results and when Boko Haram burnt our village, our family lost everything including my certificates. But how can I continue my education when I have not been able to get it? I have to do handwork [informal labour] now”. IDP children make up a significant proportion of out-of-school children in Lagos as many are unable to get registered in school simply because of a lack of address.
Most IDPs survive by deploying social capital—especially ethnic and religious ties. IDP ethnic groupings are quite organized; most belong to an ethnic-affiliated group and consider this as particularly beneficial to their resettlement and sense of identity in Lagos. Adamu from Chibok said, “When I come to Lagos in 2017, I come straight to Eleko. My brother [kinsman] help me with house, and he buy food for my family. As I no get work, he teach me okada work wey he dey do.”
The crises have resulted in the violent destruction of many communities, with hundreds of thousands killed and many more forced to flee.
Interestingly, migration to the city can also be good for women as many who were hitherto unemployed due to cultural barriers are now able to work. Mary who fled Benue with her family due to farmer-herder clashes explained, “When we were at home [in Benue], I was assisting my husband with farming, but here in Lagos, I have my own small shop where I sell food. Now I have my own money and my own work.”
Need for targeted interventions for vulnerable Lagosians
“Survival of the fittest” is an everyday maxim in the city of Lagos. For migrants, this is especially true as they are not entitled to any form of structured support from the government. Self-settlement is therefore daunting, especially in light of systemic limiting factors.
Migrants are attracted to big cities based on perceived economic opportunities, and with limited integration, their survival strategies are inevitably changing the spatial configurations of Lagos. While the city government is actively promoting urban renewal, IDP enclaving is creating new slums. Therefore, addressing the contextualised needs of urban migrant groups is a sine qua non for inclusive and sustainable urban development.
“I am still managing, living under the bridge. I won’t do this forever, my life will not end like this under a bridge. I hope to one day return to my home and continue my life”.
There is an established protocol for supporting international refugees. However, the same cannot be said for IDPs who are Nigerian citizens. They do not enjoy structured support outside of camps, and we have seen that camps are not an effective long-term solution to displacement. There is a high rate of IDP mobility to cities like Lagos, which establishes the fact that cities are an integral part of the future of humanitarian crisis. Their current survival strategies are not necessarily harnessing the urban advantage, especially due to lack of official recognition and documentation. It is therefore imperative that humanitarian frameworks take into account the role of cities and also the peculiarities of IDP migrations to them.
Lagos remains a choice destination city and there is therefore need to pay more attention to understanding the patterns, processes and implications of migration into the city. The paucity of migration-related empirical data no doubt inhibits effective planning for economic and social development. Availability of disaggregated migration data will assist the state to develop targeted interventions for the various categories of vulnerable Lagosians. Furthermore, targeted support for migrant groups must leverage existing social networks, especially the organised ethnic and religious groups that migrants lean on for entry into the city and for urban integration.
*All names used in this article are pseudonyms
It’s a Nurses’ Market Out There, and Kenyans Are Going For It
Nurses are central to primary healthcare and unless Kenya makes investments in a well-trained, well supported and well-paid nursing workforce, nurses will continue to leave and the country is unlikely to achieve its Sustainable Development Goals in the area of health and wellbeing for all.
Nancy* is planning to leave Kenya. She wants to go to the United States where the nursing pastures are supposedly greener. I first met Nancy when the country was in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic that tested Kenya’s healthcare system to breaking point. She was one of a cohort of recently graduated nurses that were hastily recruited by the Ministry of Health and thrown in at the deep end of the pandemic. Nancy earns KSh41,000 net with no other benefits whatsoever, unlike her permanent and pensionable colleagues.
When the then Labour and Social Protection Cabinet Secretary Simon Chelugui announced in early September 2021 that the government would be sending 20,000 nurses to the United Kingdom to help address the nursing shortage in that country, Nancy saw her chance. But her hopes were dashed when she failed to raise the KSh90,000 she needed to prepare and sit for the English language and nursing exams that are mandatory for foreign-trained nurses. Nancy would also have needed to pay the Nursing Council of Kenya KSh12,000 for the verification of her documents, pay the Kenya Medical Training College she attended KSh1,000 in order to get her exam transcripts, and apply for a passport, the minimum cost of which is KSh4,550 excluding the administrative fee. Nancy says that, contrary to then Health Cabinet Secretary Mutahi Kagwe’s disputed claims that a majority of applicants to the programme had failed the English language test, most nurses simply could not afford the cost of applying.
Of the targeted 20,000 nurses, the first 19 left Kenya for the UK in June 2022. But even that paltry figure represents a significant loss for Kenya, a country where the ratio of practicing nurses to the population is 11.66 per 10,000. The WHO considers countries with less than 40 nurses and midwives for every 10,000 people to not have enough healthcare professionals. Nearly 60 per cent of all healthcare professionals (medical physicians, nursing staff, midwives, dentists, and pharmacists) in the world are nurses, making them by far the most prevalent professional category within the health workforce. Nurses offer a wide range of crucial public health and care services at all levels of healthcare facilities as well as within the community, frequently serving as the first and perhaps the only healthcare provider that people see.
The growing shortage of nurses in the UK has been blamed on the government’s decision to abolish bursaries and maintenance grants for nursing students in 2016, leading to a significant drop in the number of those applying to train as nurses. Consequently, the annual number of graduate nurses plummeted, reaching the current low of 31 nurses per 100,000 people, below the European average of 36.6 and half as many as in countries like Romania (96), Albania (82) and Finland (82). Facing pressure to recruit 50,000 nurses amid collapsing services and closures of Accident & Emergency, maternity and chemotherapy units across the country, the UK government decided to once again cast its net overseas. Established in 1948, the UK’s National Health Service (NHS) has relied on foreign healthcare workers ever since staff from the Commonwealth were first brought in to nurse back to health a nation fresh out of the Second World War.
The UK government’s press release announcing the signing of the Bilateral Agreement with Kenya states that the two countries have committed “to explore working together to build capacity in Kenya’s health workforce through managed exchange and training” and goes as far as to claim that “with around only 900 Kenyan staff currently in the NHS, the country has an ambition to be the ‘Philippines of Africa’ — with Filipino staff one of the highest represented overseas countries in the health service — due to the positive economic impact that well-managed migration can have on low to middle income countries.”
It is a dubious ambition, if indeed it has been expressed. The people of the Philippines do not appear to be benefiting from the supposed increase in capacity that the exchange and training is expected to bring. While 40,000 of their nurses worked in the UK’s National Health Service last year, back home, according to Filipino Senator Sonny Angara, “around 7 of 10 Filipinos die without ever seeing a health professional and the nurse to patient ratio in our hospitals remains high at 1:50 up to 1:802”.
Since 2003 when the UK and the government of the Philippines signed a Memorandum of Understanding on the recruitment of Filipino healthcare professionals, an export-led industry has grown around the training of nurses in the Philippines that has attracted the increased involvement of the private sector. More nursing institutions — that have in reality become migrant institutions — are training nurses specifically for the overseas market, with the result that skills are matched to Western diseases and illnesses, leaving the country critically short of healthcare personnel. Already, in 1999, Filipino doctors had started retraining as nurses and leaving the country in search of better pay.
It is difficult, then, to see how the Philippines is an example to emulate. Unless, of course, beneath the veneer of “partnership and collaboration in health”, lies the objective of exporting Kenyan nurses with increased diaspora remittances in mind – Kenyans in the UK sent KSh28.75 billion in the first nine months of 2022, or nearly half what the government has budgeted for the provision of universal health care to all Kenyans. If that is the case, how that care is to be provided without nurses is a complete mystery.
Already in 1999, Filipino doctors had started retraining as nurses and leaving the country in search of better pay.
For the UK, on the other hand, importing nurses trained in Kenya is a very profitable deal. Whereas the UK government “typically spends at least £26,000, and sometimes far more, on a single nurse training post”, it costs only £10,000 to £12,000 to recruit a nurse from overseas, an externalization of costs that commodifies nurses, treating them like goods to be bought and sold.
However, in agreeing to the terms of the trade in Kenyan nurses, the two governments are merely formalizing the reality that a shortage of nurses in high-income countries has been driving the migration of nurses from low-income countries for over two decades now. Along with Ghana, Nigeria, South Africa and Zimbabwe, Kenya is one of the top 20 countries of origin of foreign-born or foreign-trained nurses working in the countries of the OECD, of which the UK is a member state.
Faced with this reality, and in an attempt to regulate the migration of healthcare workers, the World Health Assembly adopted the WHO Global Code of Practice on the Recruitment of Health Personnel in May 2010. The code, the adherence to which is voluntary, “provides ethical principles applicable to the international recruitment of health personnel in a manner that strengthens the health systems of developing countries, countries with economies in transition and small island states.”
Article 5 of the code encourages recruiting countries to collaborate with the sending countries in the development and training of healthcare workers and discourages recruitment from developing countries facing acute shortages. Given the non-binding nature of the code, however, and “the severe global shortage of nurses”, resource-poor countries, which carry the greatest disease burden globally, will continue to lose nurses to affluent countries. Wealthy nations will inevitably continue luring from even the poorest countries nurses in search of better terms of employment and better opportunities for themselves and their families; Haiti is on the list of the top 20 countries supplying the OECD region.
“Member States should discourage active recruitment of health personnel from developing countries facing critical shortages of health workers.”
Indeed, an empirical evaluation of the code four years after its adoption found that the recruitment of health workers has not undergone any substantial policy or regulatory changes as a direct result of its introduction. Countries had no incentive to apply the code and given that it was non-binding, conflicting domestic healthcare concerns were given the priority.
The UK’s Department of Health and Social Care (DHSC) has developed its own code of practice under which the country is no longer recruiting nurses from countries that the WHO recognizes as facing health workforce challenges. Kenya was placed on the UK code’s amber list on 11 November 2021, and active recruitment of health workers to the UK was stopped “with immediate effect” unless employers had already made conditional offers to nurses from Kenya on or before that date. Presumably, the Kenyan nurses who left for the UK in June 2022 fall into this category.
In explaining its decision, the DHSC states that “while Kenya is not on the WHO Health Workforce Support & Safeguards List, it remains a country with significant health workforce challenges. Adding Kenya to the amber list in the Code will protect Kenya from unmanaged international recruitment which could exacerbate existing health and social care workforce shortages.”
The WHO clarifies that nothing in its Code of Practice should be interpreted as curtailing the freedom of health workers to move to countries that are willing to allow them in and offer them employment. So, even as the UK suspends the recruitment of Kenyan nurses, they will continue to find opportunities abroad as long as Western countries continue to face nurse shortages. Kenyan nurses will go to the US where 203,000 nurses will be needed each year up to 2026, and to Australia where the supply of nursing school graduates is in decline, and to Canada where the shortage is expected to reach 117,600 by 2030, and to the Republic of Ireland which is now totally dependent on nurses recruited from overseas and where working conditions have been described as “horrendous”.
“Adding Kenya to the amber list in the Code will protect Kenya from unmanaged international recruitment which could exacerbate existing health and social care workforce shortages.”
Like hundreds of other Kenyan-trained nurses then, Nancy will take her skills overseas. She has found a recruitment agency through which to apply for a position abroad and is saving money towards the cost. She is not seeking to move to the UK, however; Nancy has been doing her research and has concluded that the United States is a much better destination given the more competitive salaries compared to the UK where nurses have voted to go strike over pay and working conditions. When she finally gets to the US, Nancy will join Diana*, a member of the over 90,000-strong Kenyan diaspora, more than one in four of whom are in the nursing profession.
Now in her early 50s, Diana had worked for one of the largest and oldest private hospitals in Nairobi for more than 20 years before moving to the US in 2017. She had on a whim presented her training certificates to a visiting recruitment agency that had set up shop in one of Nairobi’s high-end hotels and had been shortlisted. There followed a lengthy verification process for which the recruiting agency paid all the costs, requiring Diana to only sign a contract binding her to her future US employer for a period of two years once she had passed the vetting process.
Speaking from her home in Virginia last week, Diana told me that working as a nurse in the US “is not a bed of roses”, that although the position is well paying, it comes with a lot of stress. “The nurse-to-patient ratio is too high and the job is all about ticking boxes and finishing tasks, with no time for the patients,” she says, adding that in such an environment fatal mistakes are easily made. Like the sword of Damocles, the threat of losing her nursing licence hangs over Diana’s head every day that she takes up her position at the nursing station.
“The nurse-to-patient ratio is too high and the job is all about ticking boxes and finishing tasks, with no time for the patients.”
Starting out as an Enrolled Nurse in rural Kenya, Diana had over the years improved her skills, graduating as a Registered Nurse before acquiring a Batchelor of Science in Nursing from a top private university in Kenya, the tuition for which was partially covered by her employer.
Once in the US, however, her 20 years of experience counted for nothing and she was employed on the same footing as a new graduate nurse, as is the case for all overseas nurses moving to the US to work. Diana says that, on balance, she would have been better off had she remained at her old job in Kenya where the care is better, the opportunities for professional growth are greater and the work environment well controlled. But like many who have gone before her, Diana is not likely to be returning to Kenya any time soon.
*Names have been changed.
Why Azimio’s Presidential Petition Stood No Chance
In so far as the court had nullified the 2017 elections, the evidential threshold required for any subsequent electoral nullification was going to be substantially high for any petitioner.
Even before the 9 August general election, it was expected that the loser of the Kenyan presidential contest would petition the Supreme Court to arbitrate over the outcome. Predictably, the losing party, Azimio La Umoja-One Kenya Coalition, petitioned the court to have William Ruto’s win nullified on various procedural and technical grounds. Azimio’s case was predicated on, among others, three key allegations. First, that William Ruto failed to garner the requisite 50 per cent plus one vote. Second, that the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC) chairman Wafula Chebukati had announced the outcome without tallying and verifying results from seven constituencies. Finally, that the commission could not account for 250,000 votes that were cast electronically.
As we know, Azimio lost the case as the judges dismissed all the nine petitions that the party had filed, unanimously finding that William Ruto had won fairly.
Adjudicating electoral fallouts
Since its inception in 2010, the Supreme Court has played a decisive role in adjudicating fallouts linked to contentious presidential politics in Kenya, with the court deliberating on the outcome of three out of the four presidential elections held after its inauguration. Prior to this, the losing party had no credible institutional mechanism of redress and electoral disputes were generally resolved through mass political action (as in 2007) or consistent questioning of the legitimacy of the winner (as in 1992 and 1997).
The Supreme Court’s presence has, therefore, been crucial in providing losers with an institutionalised mechanism to channel dissent, with the court operating as a “safety valve” to diffuse political tensions linked to presidential elections. It is, hence, impossible to conceive of the relatively peaceful elections held in 2013, 2017 and 2022 without the Supreme Court whose mere presence has been key in discouraging some of the more deadly forms of political rivalry previously witnessed in Kenya.
While the Azimio leadership were right to petition the court in the recent election, first because this successfully diffused the political tensions among their supporters, and second because the court was expected to provide directions on IEBC conduct in future elections, it was clear that Raila Odinga’s relentless petitioning of the court in the previous two elections, and the nullification of the 2017 elections, was in essence going to be a barrier to a successful petition in 2022.
In so far as the court had nullified the 2017 elections, the evidential threshold required for any subsequent electoral nullification was going to be substantially high for any petitioner. The relentless petitioning of the court and the nullification of the 2017 elections had in essence raised the bar for the burden of proof, which lay with the petitioner(s) and, therefore, reduced the probability of a successful petition.
The Supreme Court’s presence has been crucial in providing losers with an institutionalised mechanism to channel dissent.
The reason for this is both legal and political. Legal in the sense that the IEBC is expected to conduct the elections under the law, which, among other issues, requires that the electoral process be credible and the results verifiable before any certification is made, otherwise the election is nullified, as was the case in 2017. It is political because the power to select the president is constitutionally, hence politically, delegated to the Kenyan people through the ballot, unless electoral fraud infringes on this, again as was the case in 2017.
The court in its deliberation must, therefore, balance the legal-political trade-off in its verdict in search of a plausible equilibrium. For instance, while the majority of Azimio supporters had anticipated a successful petition based on the public walkout and dissent by the four IEBC commissioners, it seems that the decision to uphold the results displayed the court’s deference to political interpretation of the law by issuing a ruling that did not undermine the Kenyan voters’ right to elect their president.
While the settlement of legal-political disputes by a Supreme/Constitutional court is a common feature across democracies, and continuously being embedded in emerging democracies like Kenya, it does seem that in this election, the political motivations for upholding the vote outweighed the legal motivations for nullifying it. In essence, the court demonstrated its institutional independence by ruling against the Kenyatta-backed Azimio candidate due to insufficient evidence.
Supreme Court power grab
A counterfactual outcome where the evidential threshold for the nullification of presidential results is low would foster a Supreme Court power grab, in lieu with the 2017 nullification, by marginalising the sovereign will of Kenyans to elect their president.
In many ways, nullification of the results would also have incentivised further adversarial political behaviour where every electoral outcome is contested in the Supreme Court even when the outcome is relatively clean, as in the case of the 2022 elections.
It is this reason (among others) that we think underlined the Supreme Court justices’ dismissal of Azimio’s recent petition. The justices ultimately dismissed the evidence presented by the petitioners as “hot air, outright forgeries, red herring, wild goose chase and unproven hypotheses”, setting a clear bar for the standard of evidence they expect in order to deliberate over such an important case in the future.
In essence, the court demonstrated its institutional independence by ruling against the Kenyatta-backed Azimio candidate due to insufficient evidence.
Since the earth-shaking nullification of the 2017 elections, the Supreme Court transcended an epoch, more political than legal by “invading” the sovereign space for Kenyans to elect their president, thereof setting a precedence that any future successful petition to contest a presidential election requires watertight evidence.
In a sense, Azimio were victims of Odinga’s judicial zealotry and especially the successful 2017 petition. In so far as the evidence submitted to the Supreme Court by Azimio in 2022 was at the same level or even lower than the 2017 base, their case at the Supreme Court was very likely to be dismissed and even ridiculed as the justices recently did.
The precedent set by the 2022 ruling will, actually, yield two positive political outcomes. First, it will in the future weed out unnecessary spam petitions that lack evidence and rather increase needless political tensions in the country. Second, it has signalled to future petitioners, that serious deliberations will only be given to petitions backed by rock-solid evidence.
From the recent ruling, it is evident that the judgement fell far below the precedent set in 2017. The 2017 Supreme Court ruling that the IEBC should make the servers containing Form 34A publicly available, was crucial in improving the credibility of the 2022 elections, by democratising the tallying process. At a minimum, the expectation was that the justices would provide a directive on the recent public fallout among the IEBC commissioners with regard to future national tallying and announcement of presidential results.
By dismissing the fallout as a mere corporate governance issue, the justices failed to understand the political ramifications of the “boardroom rupture”. What are we to do in the future if the IEBC Chair rejects the results and the other commissioners validate the results as credible?
Additionally, by ridiculing the petitioners as wild goose chasers and dismissing the evidence as “hot air”, the justices failed to maintain the amiable judicial tone necessary to decompress and assuage the bitter grievances among losers in Kenya high-octane political environment.
In a sense, Azimio were victims of Mr Odinga’s judicial zealotry and especially the 2017 successful petition.
The Supreme Court ought to resist the temptations of trivializing electoral petitions, as this has the potential of triggering democratic backsliding, where electoral losers might opt for extra-constitutional means of addressing their grievances as happened in December 2007. It is not in the petitioners’ place to ascertain whether their evidence is “hot air” or not, but for the court to do so, and in an amiable judicial tone that offers reconciliation in a febrile political environment.
The precedent set by the 2017 ruling that clarified the ambiguities related to the IEBC’s use of technology to conduct elections, set an incremental pathway towards making subsequent elections credible and fair, and increased public trust in the key electoral institutions in Kenya.
The justices, therefore, need to understand that their deliberations hold weight in the public eye and in the eyes of political leaders. Therefore, outlining recommendations to improve the IEBC’s conduct in future elections is a bare minimum expectation among Kenyans. In this case, while they provided some recommendations, they failed to comprehensively address the concerns around the walk-out by the four IEBC commissioners.
At the minimum, chastising the IEBC conduct was necessary to consolidate the electoral gains made thus far but also recalibrate institutional imperfections linked to how elections are to be conducted and, especially, contestations around the role of the commissioners in the national tallying of results in the future.
This article is part of our project on information and voter behaviour in the 2022 Kenyan elections. The project is funded by the Centre for Governance and Society, Department of Political Economy, King’s College London.
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