So, Zakayo has decided that after fifteen years of “precaution,” the Mandera border post is suddenly safe enough to swing wide open this April. He calls it a move for “mutual prosperity” and “reconnecting families,” but for those of us who remember the sirens at Westgate or the carnage at Garissa University, it sounds more like a gamble where the house - meaning us - is likely to lose. It’s funny how “security assessments” always seem to align perfectly with whatever political narrative needs a boost, regardless of the fact that Al-Shabaab hasn’t exactly retired to a farm in the countryside.

The President is promising a “massive deployment” of security forces to ensure this doesn’t backfire. We’ve heard that script before. In this country, “massive deployment” usually means more young men in uniform standing in the sun while the big fish in Nairobi pocket the logistics budget. Let’s not forget the infamous 680-kilometer border fence project from 2015. We spent 3.5 billion shillings - that’s 35 million dollars - for a measly 10 kilometers of wire. That’s 350 million shillings per kilometer for a fence you could probably cut through with a pair of kitchen shears. If that’s how we “secure” things, we might as well just leave the front door open and put out a welcome mat.

What’s truly insulting is Ruto telling the residents of Mandera to “join the battle” against these terrorists. Since when did the taxpayer’s job description include doing the work of the KDF? It’s a classic Kenyan move: the government fails to provide basic safety, then turns around and tells the victims it’s their responsibility to “cooperate” and “help us fight.” It’s easy to call for bravery from the tinted windows of a motorcade in Nairobi; it’s another thing entirely when you’re the one living in the crosshairs of a jihadist who doesn’t care about your “cross-border trade.”

We are being told this will boost trade and bring riches, but at what cost? In Nairobi, we see the pattern. We open up, we talk about “regional integration,” and then we spend the next three years mourning at memorials while the politicians send “heartfelt condolences” on X. This isn’t just about trade; it’s about a government that is desperate to look like a regional powerhouse while the foundation is made of sand. We are shifting our alliances and trying to prove we can handle our own backyard, but the ghost of the Caracas-Tehran blueprint reminds us that moving away from old security structures often just leads us into a different kind of chaos.

Check out our past story on how the landscape is shifting: The Caracas-Tehran Blueprint: Why Africa is Abandoning the Washington Consensus

At the end of the day, the Mandera border reopening feels like another layer of the great Kenyan theater. We pretend the threat is gone because we want the tax revenue from the trucks. We pretend the “massive deployment” will work because it sounds good in a speech. But for the realist on the streets of Nairobi, we’re just waiting to see if this “prosperity” comes with a side of shrapnel. April is around the corner, and I’d suggest keeping your eyes open - because the government certainly won’t be doing it for you.