Welcome to Kenya, where “development” is just a fancy word for moving public money into private pockets. Machakos Governor Wavinya Ndeti is currently the star of her own corruption thriller, accused of orchestrating a Sh350 million payout to companies that just happen to be linked to her and her son, Charles Odiwale. While legitimate contractors are out here losing their equipment to auctioneers, the “inner circle” is allegedly laughing all the way to the bank for roads that are already peeling off like cheap paint.

Let’s look at the math, because the numbers are embarrassing. In just three years, this administration has ballooned pending bills from Sh2.1 billion to a staggering Sh6.8 billion. That is top-tier mismanagement. You have to wonder if the plan was ever to pay the honest workers, or if the system was rigged from day one to ensure only those who cough up a 10 percent “upfront fee” get a seat at the table. It’s the classic Nairobi play: starve the professionals and feed the proxies.

The residents of Machakos are now driving on “new” roads that look like they’ve survived a war zone after only a few months. Jane Muthoni and other locals are asking where the millions went, but the answer is obvious to anyone with eyes. It went into the pockets of people who don’t know the difference between bitumen and black tea. When you have a Governor allegedly micromanaging procurement and finance like it’s a family kiosk, transparency is the first thing that gets thrown out the window.

And don’t even get me started on the UK “smuggling” drama. Whether those reports are verified or not, the smoke is getting too thick to ignore. When your own finance officers are too scared to pick up the phone and the EACC is sniffing around your son’s bank accounts, you know the “political witch-hunt” excuse is getting tired. It’s always “politics” until the handcuffs come out, isn’t it?

The reality is that the Kenyan youth and small-scale contractors are being systematically sidelined by an elite class that thinks public funds are a birthright. We’ve seen this pattern of exclusion before, where those at the top build walls - digital or physical - to keep the rest of us out. For more on how this elitism is killing the hustle, see The Great Disconnect: Why Celebrity Paywalls and Elitist Digital Clubs Failed the Kenyan Youth. At the end of the day, Wavinya can brag about revenue all she wants, but you can’t eat “own-source revenue” when the roads to the market don’t exist.