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The Swan Song of Electoral Democracy: From Kenyatta to Kabila, the Rise of a New Impunity

9 min read. The farcical rigging of the DR Congo election was only a surprise to the extent that fellow African presidents and international observer missions were not in on Joseph Kabila’s novel innovation: fixing the election for an opposition candidate. With 20 African elections set for 2019, does the threat of the Congolese example confirm a final retreat of electoral democracy on the continent? What is to be done? By MIRIAM ABRAHAM

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The Swan Song of Electoral Democracy: From Kenyatta to Kabila, the Rise of a New Impunity
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The normalization of electoral pilferage in Africa is baffling. Election management bodies, long the political tools of incumbents, can’t stop outdoing each other in their mediocrity. And ready to legitimise these atrocities, are African presidents who compete to be the first to convey congratulatory messages. Not to be outdone, international and regional organizations continue to provide technical support for these sham processes, releasing bland observation reports that rubber-stamp electoral fraud. And the diplomats, who while investigations are launched on sabotage of elections in their own countries, undermine electoral justice in their host countries.

The recent charade in the Democratic Republic of Congo is only the latest in the disturbing trend. Similar processes in Zimbabwe, Cameroon, Rwanda and Kenya, in the past year or so, confirm this. In these four situations, the incumbent retained power, despite detention of political opponents, massive irregularities, blatant theft, intimidation of voters and in some cases, brutal murders by security operatives. With elections scheduled in more than 20 countries this year including Nigeria, Ethiopia, South Africa and Malawi, we should expect this trend to continue unabated.

Turning to the Democratic Republic of Congo: it has the world’s most complex and longest running humanitarian crisis. It is estimated that since 1996, violence has claimed over six million lives (without including the period between its independence from Belgium in 1960 to 1995). Historically, the country has never had a bloodless transfer of power. Former President, Joseph Kabila, who inherited the seat from his assassinated father, Laurent Kabila in 2001, managed to cling to power for 18 years. He could have probably postponed elections again, if the Congolese, led by the Catholic Church, did not keep the pressure on him finally to conduct them.

The recent charade in the Democratic Republic of Congo is only the latest in a disturbing trend. Similar processes in Zimbabwe, Cameroon, Rwanda and Kenya, in the past year or so, confirm this. With elections scheduled in more than 20 countries this year including Nigeria, Ethiopia, South Africa and Malawi, we should expect this trend to continue unabated.

With this background, most people would agree that the people of Congo need some semblance of stability (the strict meaning of which usually excludes the violence prosecuted by countries and multinationals pillaging Congo’s rich minerals and timber). But must electoral justice and political stability be mutually exclusive? Several colleagues, working in support of the Congolese election management body, CENI, have expressed their shock and disbelief at the swapping of the presidential results and the manipulation of the legislative vote. These are colleagues who are hardened electoral experts – they have seen it all, from Cambodia to Afghanistan and everything in between.

Most people would agree that the people of Congo need stability (the strict meaning of which usually excludes the violence prosecuted by countries and multinationals pillaging Congo’s rich minerals and timber). But must electoral justice and political stability be mutually exclusive?

In our conversations, I have sought to understand why the Congolese case gets them more perturbed than say, Kenya or Zimbabwe – places in which they recently worked. It is clear that it is because the game played by Kabila deviated from the usual script. These international organizations, complicit in aiding theft in favour of incumbents or their anointed successors, cannot relate to a situation where an incumbent does this in favour of an opposition candidate.

As one of my colleagues said to me, “The difference is that in Kenya, it was not as blatant, there was no paper trail.” I should have been shocked to hear this, that the Kenyans were more adept at creating a farce of an electoral process than the Congolese. What many of these colleagues of mine do not understand is that the end game is the same. In both cases, the will of the people was subverted. For the diplomats and international organizations, their private outrage was that the Congolese were too obvious in their deceit. Perhaps even more outrageous was that Kabila had excluded them from his game plan. They were checkmated with the rest of us. They were not among the usual plotters of the game plan. They were prepared to make a case for how the ruling party had won, because of the power of incumbency, the divisions among the opposition and the sheer constructed tyranny of numbers. They were not prepared for what author and journalist Charles Onyango-Obbo dubbed the ‘Kabila Method’. It partly explains why contradictory statements were issued by the African Union, SADC and some European capitals, in support of the legitimate winner of the race, Martin Fayulu, before capitulating and vowing to work with President Felix Tshisekedi.

I have sought to understand why the Congolese case gets my colleagues more perturbed than say, Kenya or Zimbabwe…It is because the game played by Kabila deviated from the usual script.

If elections are indeed ritual processes to confirm the incumbents or their chosen successors, then why should we invest our hopes, blood, emotions and resources in them? Would we not be best served by monarchs such as those in Morocco and Saudi Arabia? According to several sources, and data collected by ACE African countries rank among the highest in spending on organizing elections. (This does not include campaign financing, for which the United States is off the charts.) Curiously, the higher the amount of money handed over to the ‘independent’ election management body, the lower the country ranks in the Democracy-Index maintained by The Economist.

It is estimated that in 2017 Kenya spent $ 25.4 per registered voter (not including the repeat 26 October 2017 presidential election, petitions and by-elections) and ranks 98 out of 167 states in the Democracy-Index. Botswana ranks 28th in the Index and spends an average of $2.07 per voter, although this may increase in 2019 if the country proceeds with the use of Electronic Voting Machines (EVMs).

[International observers] were prepared to make a case for how the ruling party had won, because of the power of incumbency, the divisions among the opposition and the sheer constructed tyranny of numbers. They were not prepared for what author and journalist Charles Onyango-Obbo dubbed the ‘Kabila Method’.

African leaders are getting more emboldened in methods of securing legitimacy, even amidst blatant electoral theft. They know that they can rely on the African Union and other regional organizations such as IGAD and SADC to issue observation reports lauding their illegitimate electoral processes. Prime Ministers, Presidents (sometimes sprinkling onto their official delegations, erstwhile opposition leaders, recent victims of electoral theft now co-opted by the incumbent) will troop to their inauguration ceremonies. They can count on the United Nations to issue statements congratulating the people “for voting peacefully” (as if voters were ever the problem) and taking note of the decisions of the ‘constitutionally established institutions’, even when their own staff have concrete evidence of the foul play and state capture of these institutions.

These leaders are aware that they can use excessive violence and repression to silence their opponents with impunity. And if this does not work out, they will buy off the opposition with the proverbial thirty pieces of silver and repeat the charade in the next electoral cycle. Or they will promise their victims that, in joining government, the same system that rigged them out could well rig them in, next time. Which begs the question of why we spend billions on elections. Why do we put ourselves through the emotional wringer to end up with leaders we did not choose? Why participate in a charade that ends up keeping the political barons, as former Chief Justice Willy Mutunga calls them, in power?

Electoral disillusionment is not unique to Africa. One could argue that there exists today a global democracy deficit as acute in Europe and North America as it is in Africa. Political scientist Larry Diamond has produced many publications on the subject of ‘democratic recession’. Many more researchers have studied in detail whether democracy is in retreat or not. It is however safe to say that what we have recently seen in Latin America, the US, and Europe is a backlash against leftist policies that pushed the middle class to the edge, with leaders, perceived as unrepresentative and out of touch, playing xenophobic dog-whistle politics with immigrants. Many of these countries have ended up electing populist, nationalist and right-wing leaders, who as expected have not provided solutions to their woes but rather introduced divisive and polarizing politics and policies.

Electoral disillusionment is not unique to Africa. One could argue that there exists today a global democracy deficit as acute in Europe and North America as it is in Africa.

While one could question the quality of the electoral processes in these countries, these leaders are not in power because election results were swapped blatantly, either electronically, as was in Kenya, or manually as in the DRC. It is also evident that, as was the case in the mid-term elections in the US, voters are still determined to organize and repudiate values that they deem not representative of their views. The fact that a 70-year tradition of habitually low voter turn-outs was broken – turn-out was a record 60 percent, yielding the most diverse (youth, women, Muslims) US Congress ever – holds hope for electoral democracy elsewhere. Social movements are growing in Slovakia, Romania and even in Poland to push back against these populist tendencies.

There are examples galore in Africa of what happens when people lose hope in electoral democracy— a system – a strict definition is worth restating in these strange times – in which citizens, through universal suffrage, choose and replace their leaders in regular, free, fair, and meaningful elections. This stands true even in cases where there is a façade of democracy created by the autocrats, such as Kenya. From Algeria to Zimbabwe, political changes have taken place, mostly peacefully through social and political movements. Whether in Burkina Faso or The Gambia, citizens have proven their will and capacity to alter their political fate.

Electoral democracy requires patience and hard work, both of which are acutely deficient, especially as we fall victim of the establishment’s distractions. For now in Kenya, the ‘Ruto Bogeyman’ has been created. Instead of spending time nurturing alternative leadership, the public has consented to being used as State House’s battering ram against him. It’s worth recalling that between 2013 and 2017, we were subjected to the ‘Raila Bogeyman’ regime campaign. We have long forgotten about demanding a public inquiry into the 2017 electoral fiasco – or the 2013 debacle. Those who managed the 2017 electoral thuggery continue to receive public funding and tour the world in the name of exporting “lessons learned” from their experience of managing two presidential elections in less than a year! We are collectively distracted by the smoke and mirrors ‘fight’ against graft. We have even signed on to blaming the judiciary for its handling of poorly prosecuted corruption cases designed to fail. Our social media platforms still have messages appealing for unity against terrorists, without questioning why Al-Shabaab successfully targets Kenyan towns and cities, and fails to do so against Addis Ababa whose troops have been in Somalia longer than us. We even get to spend time celebrating or bemoaning (depending on your political stripe) that Cabinet Secretary Fred Matiang’i is now empowered to coordinate the achievement of the government’s agenda while all along his official title reads exactly that (CS, Interior and Coordination of National Government).

It is tempting to write off electoral democracy in Kenya, especially now. However, there may be still room to begin laying the foundations for overturning the ‘faux democracy’ of the past 50 years. It might be tempting to focus only on de-registering ourselves from the IEBC’s voters roll, which anyway by law needs to be discarded and a new voter registration process to be initiated before the 2022 election.

We owe it to our children to do more than this. To play our role in shaking the current system that has been controlled by the dynasties and elite political ‘barons’ for the past five decades. It requires organizing around a movement that advocates for a different type of leadership – a Third Liberation, if you will. This is an arduous task, requiring time and dedication. It requires going back to the basics of defining the kind of leadership we deserve as a people to end impunity, theft of public resources, to protect our environment and to guarantee public safety and security for all. This is possible. It has been done before in Kenya, with varying levels of success, and it can be done again.

We owe it to our children to do more than this. To play our role in shaking the current system that has been controlled by the dynasties and elite political ‘barons’ for the past five decades. It requires organizing around a movement that advocates for a different type of leadership – a Third Liberation, if you will.

But even as we chart this path, we must remember to hold the leaders of these movements accountable to the people. Most of today’s autocrats in Africa were yesterday’s defenders of democracy. Yoweri Museveni of Uganda toppled the Tito Okello military dictatorship 33 years ago; today, he ranks among Africa’s longest serving despots. In Guinea, President Alpha Condé, a long-time opposition leader, became the first democratically elected president in 2011 and appears to be preparing to remove term limits in addition to his ongoing repressive tendencies against his opponents. In Cote d’Ivoire, the hope that Alassane Dramane Ouattara embodied has long been replaced by the very same tactics of his predecessor Laurent Gbagbo. Closer home, one of the prominent leaders of the ‘second liberation’ Rt. Hon. Raila Odinga and the ‘Young Turks’ have joined forces with the ruling Jubilee Party to undermine the same values and aspirations they allegedly fought to protect.

The journey to real change, to electoral democracy, must advance by the dismantling of the entrenched structures that enable the rise of populism, divisive politics, corruption and impunity. It is a journey that we as a nation have really not yet begun. The jury is still out on how far we shall proceed before we are enjoined in the distractions set up by the political ‘barons’ and the dynasties. Until then, electoral democracy is a mirage. And ours will remain selection, not election processes. Just with more pomp, more pillaging and unfortunately, more deaths.

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Ms. Abraham is a governance and institutional development expert.

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The Broader Implications of the Kibra By-Election

6 min read. Despite the positive outcomes of the recent Kibra parliamentary by-election, the poll confirmed that the country is just as polarised as it was before the 2018 “handshake”.  The rabid political rhetoric, the ethnic mobilisation, the violence and allegations of bribery, were not any different from those witnessed during the 2017 election.  Kibra laid bare the fractures within the ruling Jubilee Party and confirmed the collapse of NASA. Rather than bridging the political differences in the country, the “handshake” has deepened them. This does not augur well for the country, particularly in these difficult economic times.

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The Broader Implications of the Kibra By-Election
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Now that the dust has somewhat settled after the Kibra parliamentary seat by-election, let us reflect on its broader implications.

There are some outcomes that stand out as positive. The vigilance of the political parties at polling stations was impressive, despite the violent tactics employed. This was a major improvement on 2017 when most political parties did not have agents present at the polling stations.  As confirmed by the High Court, the election results announced at the polling station are final, and the electoral regulations of the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC) require that these results, signed by the agents, must be posted at polling stations.

Technically, if a candidate has agents at each polling station, he or she should be able to have a sense of their performance even before the IEBC Returning Officer. This is because the Returning Officer has to await the physical delivery of results by the Presiding Officers before embarking on the tallying. It was probably data from his agents which led the Jubilee candidate, McDonald Mariga, to make his call conceding defeat to Bernard (Imran) Okoth long before the official results were announced. For Mariga to concede defeat and accept the results early is indeed commendable and should be the norm. But this is only possible when candidates perceive the electoral process to be fair.

It also requires that stakeholders have reliable information, which appears to have been the case in Kibra. This cannot be said of the 2017 General Election, where the IEBC gave candidates reason to doubt the results it was releasing. In Kibra, the IEBC did not use its electronic results transmission system (although it did use the biometric voter identification system). Does this confirm that technology is not a panacea for the lack of transparency and confidence in electoral results? Indeed, Kibra opens the door for us to engage with the ideas put forward by former IEBC Commissioner Roselyn Akombe in her end of assignment report on the use of technology in elections.

Yet, despite some of these positive outcomes, I would argue that the negative aspects of the process far outweigh the positive ones, for four main reasons.

First, the process confirmed that the IEBC has not learned any lessons from its recent dismal failures. It continues to flaunt clearly laid out electoral laws and acts with impunity in the knowledge that the state—which it has been totally captured by—will protect it.  

Take, for instance, the issue of the voters register. The Elections Act requires that the Commission avail a register of voters to ensure transparency, verifiability and accountability. Yet, once again, the Commission failed to make the register available to stakeholders and nor did it make one available online. It only complied with the law once the Orange Democratic Party (ODM) sought relief from the courts.

You will recall that during the 2017 elections, every aspect of the electoral process, from registration of voters to procurement of electoral materials, was subject to litigation. Why is it so difficult for the Commission to comply with electoral laws and with its own procedures? In its own review of the 2017 General Election, the Commission identified over 500 legal cases against it, including Presidential, County and National Assembly petitions. It is important that an independent audit of the 2017 electoral process is undertaken if we are to hold on to the hope of electoral justice.  Otherwise, we risk having the same issues repeated in the next electoral cycle.

The IEBC has not learned any lessons from its recent dismal failures. It continues to flaunt clearly laid out electoral laws and acts with impunity in the knowledge that the state—which it has been totally captured by—will protect it.

Second, the Kibra by-election confirmed that the country is just as polarised as it was before the 2018 “handshake”.  The rabid political rhetoric, the ethnic mobilisation, the violence and allegations of bribery, were not any different from those witnessed during the 2017 election.

What the “handshake” did was shift the political alliances. We still have two political coalitions, just as we did in 2017. Only that the “dynasties” camp in the Kibra campaign was led by Rt. Hon. Raila Odinga, with the President’s acquiescence, and the “hustlers” team by the Deputy President. Kibra laid bare the fractures within the ruling Jubilee Party and confirmed the collapse of NASA. Rather than bridging the political differences in the country, the “handshake” has deepened them. This does not augur well for the country, particularly in these difficult economic times.

Third, state capture—which many observers including Wachira Maina and David Ndii have written about—is very much alive.  For many months now, close aides of Rt. Hon. Odinga have been boisterous about how the “system” has, since the handshake, switched its “loyalty” from the Deputy President to their Baba. They point out that with the “system” or the “deep state” solidly behind Baba, he is the “President-in-waiting” and the de facto co-Principal to the President.

One could argue that the “men in the shadows”, as John Githongo calls them in his article One Week in March: Was the Handshake Triggered by the IMF?, are keen to show that the handshake is working. With the Deputy President’s power withdrawn, he did not stand a chance of imposing his candidate in Kibra, as he is alleged to have done for most of the key positions in the 2017 election. His recent pronouncements are of a bitter man, spoilt by the ease with which he previously wielded power and now finding himself bereft. It is the anger of a man who has been betrayed by the same President whom he helped bring to power.

Second, the Kibra by-election confirmed that the country is just as polarised as it was before the 2018 “handshake”.  The rabid political rhetoric, the ethnic mobilisation, the violence and allegations of bribery, were not any different from those witnessed during the 2017 election.

I can imagine his frustration as he watched the security system tacitly approve the violence meted out against his candidate and his confidantes. A man who is alleged to have used the government machinery to terrorise dissenting voices, now watching from the periphery as they worked for his arch-rival.  A man who is reported to have made cold, menacing telephone calls, leading senior officials to resign from their positions rather than wait for his threats to materialise, was now seeing these tactics used against his cronies.

In light of this, Rt. Hon. Odinga’s supporters may be tempted to celebrate their ability to benefit from state capture today. However, they should be wary of how the tables may be turned should Baba fall out with Kenyatta. They surely must know the volatility of alliances in this country. There are still many factors that could come into play in the coming months. In cheering on state capture for short-term gain, we have sunk to our lowest level and history will judge us harshly for our acquiescence.

Fourth, Kibra confirmed that women continue to face insurmountable challenges when seeking political office. The two main political coalitions did not consider any female candidate in their “nominations”. Despite the odds, there were three formidable women in the race: Editar Ochieng (Ukweli Party); Hamida Musa (United Green Movement) and Fridah Kerubo (Independent).

Unlike most of the other 21 candidates, these three women live in Kibra and have been involved in community organising. Yet their voices were drowned out as Kibra became the arena for a national supremacy challenge between two men who do not even reside there. Men who visit the constituency for its political symbolism and have done nothing during their time in power to make even minimalist changes to improve the lives of Kibra’s inhabitants.

The sexist undertones of the campaigning were repulsive; the labeling of an entire constituency as one man’s “bedroom”, with another man retorting that he was within sight of invading it, should have been strongly condemned yet even the various organisations and groups purporting to defend women’s rights were eerily silent. They dared not hold either Rt. Hon. Odinga or the Deputy President accountable for their insensitive sexist innuendoes, which continue to undermine the participation of women in politics.  The mainstream unfortunately joined the bandwagon, using the same “bedroom” analogy without interrogating how this undermines their own mantras on the use of gender-sensitive language. Sadly, Kibra is a reminder that if we do not change the environment around our electoral process, the gender parity provisions in our constitution will remain a mirage.

Beneath the gender-insensitive use of the “bedroom” analogy in Kibra, is the underlying message of patronage. It trivialises the lives of the residents as dispensable political pawns.  It promotes the erroneous perception that one man can own the thousands of residents of Kibra. This is the same outrageous mindset which led Johnstone Kamau to appropriate a country’s name and present himself as it’s light (thus Kenyatta),  as he describes this re-naming in his book Facing Mount Kenya. No wonder his descendants see the country as their personal property to plunder.

Sadly, Kibra is a reminder that if we do not change the environment around our electoral process, the gender parity provisions in our constitution will remain a mirage.

Kibra reminds us that we have failed to address the root causes behind the current political polarisation. We have failed to make the changes necessary to end the ongoing state capture of independent institutions such as the IEBC. We pay lip service to the participation of women in politics and marginalise large swathes of our population. We have failed to address the economic policies that have led to our people living in difficult conditions, including in places such as Kibra. We have squandered the future of the youth and left many of them unemployed and disillusioned. It is time that we made serious attempts at addressing these issues. Otherwise, as we have seen in recent months from Algeria to Zimbabwe, the streets will take care of the situation. And the outcome of such popular protests may not be what the political elite might expect.

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‘I Don’t Understand Why Kenyans Are Broke’: Mr. Kenyatta’s Debt Distress Revisited

10 min read. Many Kenyans have been wondering why we are told that the economy is growing at a brisk 5 to 6 per cent year after year, yet they are not feeling it. Instead, big companies are issuing profit warnings and laying off people. Kenya’s public debt has increased threefold over the last six years, from Sh1.8 trillion to Sh6 trillion and although the data shows that the economy is growing, the tax base is not expanding and revenue is falling short as debt service charges are rising.

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‘I Don’t Understand Why Kenyans Are Broke:’ Mr. Kenyatta’s Debt Distress Revisited
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In 2018, following the Raila-Uhuru détente we call the handshake, I went against the grain and argued against the anti-corruption campaign that ensued. My reasons were simple enough; Uhuru and Ruto were jointly culpable for the administration’s corruption, hence my contention that the fight against corruption was being politically weaponised. I postulated that politicising the war on graft would blow back on the handshake (it has).

I voiced my concerns both publicly and privately. The response I got was that the anti-graft drive was strictly economic, and not political, motivated by the realisation that the government was hurtling towards a financial crunch. Different people on both sides of the handshake deal mentioned the figure of Sh300 billion, which they claimed was the amount that could be saved by stopping graft. I tried to explain the nature of the crisis that was unfolding but no one wanted to hear that fighting corruption was not the silver bullet. Heads were firmly in the sand.

The Sh300 billion figure cropped up again a few weeks ago, this time as the amount of tax payments that are in dispute. It was disclosed that the government is proposing legislation that will require the disputed figures to be paid up front. It does not take much imagination to see how such a law could be abused. A government as desperate for cash as this one can make inflated tax assessments—which tax one has to pay first and ask questions later—while also opening another avenue for tax officials to extort taxpayers. It can be used for political persecution or to cripple competitors and businesses targeted for acquisition by our rapacious crony capitalist cartels.

Why is the government clutching at straws? Let’s have a look at the finances. The government plans to spend Sh2.6 trillion in the current financial year (2019-2020). It plans to finance this spending through domestic revenue to the tune of Sh1.88 trillion (Sh1.81 trillion tax and Sh70 billion non-tax, respectively), Sh701 billion of debt, and external grants of Sh19.5 billion. Of the Sh701 billion of debt, it plans to borrow Sh434 billion domestically, and Sh267 billion from foreign lenders—comprising of Sh200 billion in commercial debt and the balance of Sh67 billion in soft loans from development lenders.

Let us put some perspective to these numbers. Over a quarter (27 per cent) of the budget is debt-financed and 90 per cent of this debt will be commercial—30 per cent from foreign lenders and 60 per cent from the domestic market (we often overlook the fact that domestic debt is commercial). The Jubilee administration has been doing this for six years running. When it took office, we had a single $600 million foreign commercial loan, which was paid off using the first Eurobond issue. Today, a third of our foreign debt amounting to $10 billion is commercial. The administration justified the $2.8 billion debut Eurobond issue, the largest African issue to date, on the promise that it would replace domestic borrowing, thereby leaving domestic credit to the private sector and reducing interest rates. It did not. Instead, the administration ratcheted up domestic borrowing as well and crowded out the private sector completely. It is also worth reminding ourselves that the proceeds of that Eurobond cannot be accounted for.

The Sh701 billion deficit translates to the government spending 37 per cent more than its income. This is like a Sh30,000 earner who has just acquired a credit card deciding that she can afford to live large by spending Sh40,000 a month. Now, let us assume that the credit card charges 15 per cent per year, and requires 5 per cent repayment of the outstanding principal every month. A year down the road, the monthly debt service will be in the order of Sh7,500, which is not too bad as she will still be spending Sh2,500 more than her salary after debt charges. But four months later the debt service charge will start eating into her salary and by the end of the second year, she will be paying Sh15,000 in debt charges a month and owing Sh. 240,000. If she were to run into a credit limit at that point, she would have to live on Sh. 15,000 a month— half her salary—and her lifestyle will definitely have to change drastically.

This scenario will be familiar to people who have abused credit cards. It is the situation we are in—six years of abuse of the national credit card. For the country, it is unprecedented; we are one of the few African countries that escaped the 1980s-90s debt crisis that was resolved by the Highly Indebted Countries Initiative (HIPC). But I gather that this is not the first time that the bloke at the helm has over-swiped.

Many Kenyans have been wondering why we are told that the economy is growing at a brisk 5 to 6 per cent year after year, yet they are not feeling it. Instead, big companies are issuing profit warnings and laying off people. A related question is why government revenue is falling short when the economy is supposedly booming. Under Jubilee, the tax revenue as a percentage of GDP has declined from 18 per cent to 15 per cent, the lowest level since the 90s. The three percentage points difference is, surprise, surprise, Sh300 billion.

Jubilee has increased our public debt threefold over the last six years, from Sh1.8 trillion to Sh6 trillion and counting. Unlike our consumer, however, the government will argue that its debt has been invested. But investments are risky, or long term. Moreover, you don’t borrow short-term to invest long-term as the government has been doing. If you do, the debt repayments eat into the working capital, and you will soon be defaulting on your suppliers, as the government is doing.

Under Jubilee, the tax revenue as a percentage of GDP has declined from 18 per cent to 15 per cent, the lowest level since the 90s. The three percentage points difference is, surprise, surprise, Sh300 billion.

Government borrowing is predicated on the expectation that the projects financed will stimulate productive investment that will in turn generate tax revenues to service the debt. But very little of this debt has yielded any economic benefits that would in turn generate tax revenues. The Standard Gauge Railway (SGR)—the largest of these projects—has not stimulated any new economic activity. Much to the contrary, all it has achieved to date is to disrupt port logistics and road haulage while increasing costs and inefficiency for importers. Right now, its net economic contribution is negative. All indications are that the Galana-Kulalu irrigation scheme is a white elephant, and we know for sure that the economic contribution of the Arror and Kimwarer dams is zero.

Moreover, the government shoots itself in the foot by awarding the construction projects to foreign— predominantly Chinese—state-owned firms. This undermines revenue in two ways. First, the companies are exempted from paying tax. Second, the money they make is repatriated, denying the economy the multiplier effect it would have if the money had been earned by domestic firms. I gather that Uhuru Kenyatta was banging tables the other day demanding to know why Kenyans are broke, how come the money spent on government projects is not circulating in the economy.

Let us take his flagship project, the SGR. The man went and swiped the national credit card and the Chinese delivered the goods. The money stayed in China, debited from our loan accounts in the Chinese banks and credited to the suppliers’ bank accounts. We are paying the loans from our pockets. This year, we’ve budgeted to pay the Chinese banks Sh94 billion, up from Sh39 billion last year. Far from circulating it in the economy, foreign debt-financed government projects are draining money from the economy.

Thus, although the data shows that the economy is growing, the tax base is not expanding and revenue is falling short as debt service charges are rising. While tax revenue has just about doubled under the Jubilee administration, from Sh900 billion in the 2012-2013 financial year to Sh1.49 trillion in the last financial year (2018-2019)—translating to 15 per cent per year—interest payments have increased three-fold from Sh93 billion to Sh390 billion, translating to 52 per cent per year. Consequently, from consuming 12 per cent of revenue, interest payments have risen to 26 per cent. It should not come as a surprise that the government is having trouble paying suppliers. It is also noteworthy that the increase in the cost of interest payments is in the order of—here we go again—Sh300 billion.

Last year the government projected that it would raise Sh1.77 trillion in tax revenues, later revised downwards to Sh1.67 trillion. It managed to raise 1.5 trillion, respectively Sh270 billion and Sh170 billion short of the approved and revised budgets. Still, it budgeted to raise Sh1.8 trillion in 2019. At the end of the first quarter of this year the government had raised Sh372 billion. If the trend remains, Sh1.49 trillion will have been raised—about the same as last year—a shortfall of, well, Sh300 billion.

If the government were to borrow the whole amount this would increase debt financing to a trillion shillings, that is, 38 per cent of the budget or 67 per cent of revenue (remember that revenue is projected at just about Sh1.5 trillion). If it were to borrow domestically, that would also suck in the little credit that is trickling to the private sector. Moreover, the interest rate caps imposed three years ago have now been removed. The caps were meant to benefit private borrowers but the only beneficiary was the government—enabling it to borrow while postponing the political price that would have been exacted had interest rates surged to the mid-20s—as they would have. But the economy has paid the price because, by making it difficult for banks to price risk, the rate caps made the government’s crowding out of the private sector in the credit market more severe than it would have otherwise been.

It should not come as a surprise that the government is having trouble paying suppliers. It is also noteworthy that the increase in the cost of interest payments is in the order of—here we go again—Sh300 billion.

With the caps removed, the government’s excessive appetite for debt will now put upward pressure on interest rates, including the government’s own cost of domestic borrowing. The math is eye-popping; the government’s domestic debt is in the order of Sh3 trillion. A one percentage point increase in the cost of borrowing translates to a Sh30 billion increase in interest expenditure. How quickly an interest rate rise is transmitted into actual cost depends on the structure of the debt—the more short-term, the faster. Jubilee has done a good job of borrowing at the short end of the market, and so transmission will be relatively quick. The exchange rate presents a similar conundrum. The annual servicing of external debt is in the order $2.5 billion, and a depreciation by one shilling translates to a Sh2.5 billion increase in the cost of servicing the debt. It should come as no surprise then that the IMF’s contention that the government is propping up the shilling raised a furore.

Belt tightening is the sensible thing to do when a person or a business is over-indebted. For governments it is a little more complicated. The government is the single largest entity in the economy, and what it does has feedback loops that can amplify the problems it is trying to solve. The problem we have now is that the economy has become addicted to expansionary budgets. Five years ago, government expenditure accounted for a fifth of annual GDP growth, meaning that when growth was reported at 5 per cent, it meant that the private sector accounted for 4 per cent and the government for 1 per cent. Today, the share of the private sector is down to 3 per cent and the government’s share has doubled to 2 per cent. In effect, belt tightening has to contend with the economy suffering withdrawal symptoms—a weakening economy feeding into an even bigger revenue shortfall, requiring even more belt tightening.

This whole conundrum is how countries end up in a Greek-style downward spiral of a contracting economy and ballooning indebtedness. The case of Mozambique is instructive. Before the “tuna bond” scandal unfolded, Mozambique’s economy was roaring at 7 per cent per year, riding on post-conflict reconstruction and the discovery of huge offshore natural gas reserves. The loan sharks moved in. In 2013 Mozambique borrowed $2 billion—equivalent to a third of the budget—in privately placed bonds known as “loan participation notes” to finance a tuna fishing fleet and maritime security, of which only $850 million was made public. It has recently emerged from a fraud and money laundering court case in New York that at least $200 million was stolen and shared out between the investment bankers and Mozambique’s who’s who, including the finance minister and the president’s son.

In early 2016, Mozambique defaulted on interest due on the $850 million. Shortly thereafter, the secret loans were exposed. Money dried up. By the end of the year, the currency had fallen 40 per cent, causing the debt-to-GDP ratio to increase from 55 per cent to 120 per cent. Everything unravelled. Serial defaults and debt restructuring became the order of the day. Growth tumbled to 3.3 per cent last year and is now down to just over 2 per cent. It is going to be a long and painful climb out of the mess.

Which brings me to the question that many people are asking: what is the solution? I have opined that our debt distress will be resolved by one of two scenarios: the Ethiopia or the Sudan scenario. This is why:

To dig ourselves out of the debt quagmire requires four things. First, you need a dollop of cheap money to cushion the economy and vulnerable groups as the government withdraws from domestic borrowing so as to release credit to the private sector, restructure government finances, and rebalance the economy more generally. My guesstimate is a minimum of $3 billion (yes, Sh300 billion!) to $4.5 billion. The only source of such money is an international bailout. Second, to get financiers to buy in, you need a bankable plan. Third, you need a credible turn-around team to implement it. It is not a job for yes-men and yes-women—you need people who can stare down Kenyatta and his crony capitalist cartels. Fourth, economic turnarounds entail making tough unpopular decisions and pushing through painful reforms, and that requires political goodwill. It is not the sort of thing you can do with the 2022 political warfare raging—as we witnessed it in the Kibra by-election.

At the end of the first quarter of this year the government had raised Sh372 billion. If the trend remains, Sh1.49 trillion will have been raised—about the same as last year—a shortfall of, well, Sh300 billion.

This is the situation that Ethiopia found itself in two years ago when the Ethiopian Peoples’ Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) coalition realised that only a leadership change could save it. Fortunately for Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed, there was a lot of low-hanging political fruit—releasing political prisoners, making peace with Eritrea, appointing women— that he could use to build goodwill, bring in some money and buy time. Still, that’s all he’s been able to do— he is still circling the big economic reform questions, and he now runs the risk of his political honeymoon ending before he gets started.

Sudan’s Omar al-Bashir sought to do the same thing but it was too little too late. Just over a year before he was toppled, amid mounting protests and a deepening economic crisis, he dissolved the government, intending to constitute an economic turn-around team. But the ship of state was already too leaky and his key appointees turned down his overtures (his choice of finance minister is now Prime Minister).

Can the Jubilee administration pull a political rabbit out of the hat like the EPDRF did in Ethiopia? Doubtful. For one, the EPRDF had the advantage of a parliamentary system which enables change of leadership without going through elections. But it is also the case that for a President at the tail end of his tenure, an economic reform programme would be all pain and no gain. Moreover, a lot of what needs to be done means reversing his policies, and he would have to cede a fair amount of power, making him even more of a lame duck than he already is. And having left it until the ship was leaking, there is also the question of who loves him enough to jump in when its owners—the Moses Kurias of this world —are jumping out. So his best strategy is the path of least resistance—kick the can and hope and pray that the bottom does not fall out this side of the election, be that by way of a financial meltdown or people taking to the streets.

Five years ago, I cautioned Jubilee that it had embarked on a reckless fiscal path, to wit, “We cannot afford to continue on the fiscal path that we are on. It is reckless. This mega-infrastructure madness has to stop. If we don’t do it ourselves, the iron laws of economics will do it for us—and that, take it from me, does not come cheap.”

We say in Gikuyu mūrega akīīrwo ndaregaga akīhetwo: a person who rejects counsel will listen when the consequences arrive. That moment is upon us.

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What is the Sinister Motive Behind the Mwende Mwinzi Probe?

4 min read. Mwende Mwinzi’s appointment as Kenya’s Ambassador to South Korea is fully within the law as Ambassadors and High Commissioners are not considered state officials.  Under Article 78 (3) (b) of Chapter 6 of the Constitution on Leadership and Integrity, she is qualified as a Kenyan whose dual nationality is linked to the laws of another nation. 

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What is the Sinister Motive Behind the Mwende Mwinzi Probe?
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How did the appointment of a Kenyan citizen as Kenya’s Ambassador to South Korea become so embroiled in controversy as to seem like a personal vendetta?

Early in the year, Mwende Mwinzi, a dual citizen of Kenya and the United States, went through the vetting process administered by the Defense and Foreign Relations Committee as the law requires. From its onset, some Members of Parliament began to question her suitability for the post as they openly questioned the authenticity of her Kenyanness and claimed that she does “not have any unique skills other Kenyans don’t have”.

The Mwende drama started with a delegation that went to the president to whisper in his ear about the problem posed by the nomination of a dual citizen, falsely claiming that her appointment was unconstitutional. As it turned out, her appointment was indeed fully within the laws of Kenya, as Ambassadors and High Commissioners are not considered state officials.  Further to this, under Article 78 (3) (b) of Chapter 6 of the Constitution on Leadership and Integrity, she is qualified as a Kenyan whose dual nationality is a result of the “operation of that country’s law, without ability to opt out” (in this case the US).

But the war to dislodge Ms. Mwinzi only intensified and, in a vicious campaign to disqualify her, has gathered the most ardent supporters of the call to remove her even before she has taken up her appointment. Ms. Mwinzi’s loyalty has been loudly questioned, with opinion-shapers peddling doubts about her ability—and by extension the ability of all dual-citizenship Kenyans—to be loyal to Kenya while holding another country’s citizenship.

This narrow thinking completely misses the point that diplomatic spies and sell-outs do not need dual citizenship to act out of greed, dissatisfaction or unpatriotic inclinations. A study of the history of espionage should be exciting and enlightening for those in thrall to this sensationalist propaganda.

Her appointment was indeed fully within the laws of Kenya as Ambassadors and High Commissioners are not considered state officials

It also misses the point that there are other dual-citizenship envoys in office. This is perfectly within the law, and there is no logical reasoning to support calls for the amendment of the constitution in order to disqualify them on the grounds that they are dual citizens.

The Mwende case has been fraught with hypocrisy and dubious intentions on the part of the vetting Members of Parliament who have now insisted that she must surrender her American citizenship in order to take up office as Kenya’s Ambassador to South Korea. This demand is not only unconstitutional but it is also sinister and cruel to require someone with family in the US to shoot themselves in the foot in order to serve their country.

It is also worth pointing out that it is global standard procedure for countries to appoint dual citizens as high-level diplomats. The United States has enough of these examples, starting with former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright who is Czech-American.  The generous Internet will yield more good examples from several countries that have discarded the self-defeating and parochial view that dual citizens are to be feared, shunned and their role in nation-building limited.

This fear of dual citizens and Kenyans in the diaspora in general, has often elicited the open disdain of Kenyan legislators for Kenyans living abroad. When this disdain and dismissal translate to a suppression of citizens’ rights and opportunities, then it inevitably becomes a legal battle.

Kenyans in the diaspora have never shied away from the fight for justice and inclusion. They have fought to make it clear that living a few hours away is a silly and unjust reason to be discriminated against and that legally holding more than one passport is not a measure of one’s loyalty or patriotism.

It takes smart leadership to recognise that inclusivity of all citizens regardless of their global residence is visionary in the globalised 21st century and that attempts at exclusion are toxic to the nation as a whole.

It is also astonishing that the oft-quoted diaspora remittances cease to count as a mark of loyalty for Kenyan legislators intent on dismissing the Kenyan diaspora’s fight to belong and to serve. Let us be very clear that recognised belonging is the right of every citizen. Kenyans in the diaspora actively show their belonging by investing their hard-earned billions in their home country and, like every other Kenyan, they partake in nation-building every day.

The familiar pettiness that surfaced about Ms. Mwinzi’s accent during her vetting is an example of what must cease if Kenya wishes to make good use of its citizens who have lived abroad. These irrelevant concerns undermine and detract from the more important issues of character, leadership and accomplishments that might be of benefit to our nation.

It takes smart leadership to recognise that inclusivity of all citizens regardless of their global residence is visionary in the globalised 21st century

The sheer hypocrisy of the case has been exposed by the call to probe members of parliament who hold dual citizenship. The Kenyans for Justice and Development organisation has named eight members of parliament and two senators as state officials who need to be probed. This alone puts the vetting Committee’s credibility into question. It demands that all their recommendations against Ms. Mwinzi’s nomination be thrown out and that the constitution that allows her to be nominated reign supreme on this issue.

Mwende Mwinzi has served Kenya in many different capacities. In 2001 she started Twana Twitu, an organisation that has for 17 years supported over 3,000 orphaned and vulnerable children in Kitui. She was a columnist for Sunday Nation and for 3 years served on the National Economic and Social Council (NESC).

Ms. Mwinzi was also part of the team that devoted itself to improving Kenya’s image in the US at a time when Kenya had been negatively branded and was struggling to attract support to overcome its security challenges, boost tourism and trigger investment.  In the last election, Ms. Mwinzi vied for the seat of Member of Parliament for Mwingi West. She has clearly focused her life in Kenya not only in word but also in deed.

This persecution of one person is also a remarkably familiar pattern in the murky and mafia-ridden world of Kenyan politics where backdoor wheeling and dealing is done to secure high-level positions. With the political strategising for the 2022 presidential race already in place, political factions have been seeking to have “their people” in lucrative missions. Diplomatic corruption is both an international and local reality and, South Korea being a coveted station, it requires someone who will not give in to grand corruption schemes.

Editorial note: On November 14, 2019, the High Court of Kenya ruled that Kenya’s ambassador nominee to South Korea Mwende Mwinzi should not be forced to renounce her American citizenship as demanded by Parliament. Justice Makau further noted that an ambassador is not a State officer but a public officer, therefore, Ms. Mwinzi is not required to renounce her citizenship.

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