LAWI SULTAN: Shadows of Colonial Past in Modern Kenya

As a theorist focusing on social awareness, I've consistently harbored reservations about the National Government Administrative Officers within Kenya’s Ministry of Interior. Despite keeping these views quiet, I see this body as a revival of the much-maligned provincial administration—an apparatus known for its oppression of the Kenyan populace throughout history.

Based on my assessment, NGAO, which claims to be an instrument for delivering services consistent with the national government’s objectives, actually serves as a means easily influenced by the executive branch. It continues to use colonial-era and pre-2010 uniforms, indicating a clear resistance to reform.

The expense of managing NGAO—which has been pegged at between Sh50-70 billion since its inception in 2013—only increases my doubts regarding its effectiveness and importance.

The 36 points listed under policy, management, and coordination on NGAO's website clearly aim to quantify the burden of responsibility imposed by the mandate.

Currently, with the introduction of the National Government Administration Police Unit by the ministry on January 24, 2025, in Kwale County, my worries have intensified.

I view NGAPU, a 6,000-member strong police unit associated with NGAO, as unwarranted and highly susceptible to misuse by those in power. This doubles the fiscal strain without concrete proof of necessity.

Combined, NGAO and NGAPU bring forth a disturbing resemblance to colonial administration methods, used not for the benefit of the public but to solidify control at the local level.

Since its launch, NGAO's budget reveals a narrative of rising expenses accompanied by minimal transparency.

Set up through the National Government Coordination Act of 2013, the NGAO's yearly spending probably began at KES 3 billion and climbed to KES 6 billion by the financial year 2023-24, with an estimated total cost ranging from KES 50 to 70 billion throughout a period of twelve years, accounting for projected expenses related to staff and operations.

NGAO comprises eight regional commissioners, 47 county commissioners, an estimated 300 to 500 deputies and assistants at the county level, along with over 3,000 chiefs and assistant chiefs who serve across different sub-locations.

The various cost factors encompass wages, benefits, operational support (such as vehicles and office spaces), and training. The salary for chiefs ranges from Sh30,000 to Sh70,000, varying based on their experience, place of service, and duties.

The salary for assistant chiefs ranges between Sh26,000 and Sh47,000, not including additional allowances.

County commissioners receive salaries ranging from Sh180,160 to Sh335,450, along with a monthly housing allowance of Sh80,000 and a commuting subsidy of Sh24,000.

The inclusion of NGAPU—which could add between Sh1–2 billion per year for 6,000 officers—increases this financial strain further, without any public explanation to support the cost.

Moreover, security budgets, such as those allocated through NGAPU, continue to be cloaked in secrecy—a practice reminiscent of the colonial government’s clandestine financing of the Provincial Administration aimed at suppressing dissent rather than serving the public interest.

If NGAO’s responsibilities—such as coordination, security, and administrative services—are overwhelming the Ministry of Interior, as indicated by their extensive nature, why not redistribute these duties to established constitutional bodies? The security tasks could be transferred to the National Police Service, administration could be handled at the county level, and policy coordination could remain with a more streamlined ministry.

The introduction of NGAPU only intensifies this query, introducing an additional policing element when the NPS already faces challenges with a ratio of one officer for every 450 people compared to UN’s ratio of one officer for every 280 individuals.

Nevertheless, supporters of NGAO maintain that it is essential. They highlight the chiefs' extensive reach at the community level—covering 106,072 villages—and assert that it addresses issues where both the NPS and county systems fall short. This claim is supported by data from the National Crime Research Centre’s report titled "The Role of Chiefs in Localized Crime and Security Management" (2021), which indicates that 47.9 percent of Kenyans surveyed rated the performance of their local chief positively.

Additionally, 25.8 percent of the surveyed individuals would rank their leader's performance as excellent.

According to the supporters of the NGAO, establishing 31 additional administrative divisions in 2024 will improve accessibility to services in distant regions such as Wajir, something which individual counties do not have the capability to achieve.

This rebuttal carries significant merit: The closeness of NGAO to citizens might, theoretically, validate its presence when decentralization fails.

I believe that NGAO emerged from the national government's anxiety about maintaining control and likely served as a transitionary benefit for numerous provincial administrators facing potential unemployment after 2013 unless they were integrated into the county government frameworks as suggested.

The rise of NGAPU, coupled with NGAO’s cautiously projected doubling of expenses (increasing from 3 billion shillings to 6 billion shillings each year, along with an additional 1-2 billion shillings for NGAPU), and the opacity surrounding security funding, reignites my concerns.

I firmly believe that the executive is using NGAO and NGAPU similarly to how colonial administrators utilized the provincial administration—rather than as servicers, they function as mechanisms of control, reminiscent of the 1929 Tribal Police serving under Chiefs to uphold British dominion.

The author is a thinker focused on societal awareness, as well as a corporate educator and lecturer.