If you spent a day walking through the slums of Kibra or Mathare and later strolled through the leafy suburbs of Muthaiga or Karen, you would understand that the government’s affordable housing scheme is not just about buildings – it is about restoring the dignity of human life. The contrast is more than just about wealth; it is a mirror of Kenya’s social inequality, economic injustice, and historical neglect.
The difference in living conditions is both shocking and sobering. In one world, people live with manicured lawns, security patrols, and spacious homes. In the other, families are packed in tin shacks with open sewers, congested pathways, and minimal access to water, healthcare, or sanitation.
In these informal settlements, generations have been born and raised without knowing what it means to sleep in a decent room, to bathe in privacy, or to use a functioning toilet. It is not just about lacking luxury – it is about being deprived of the basics. There are children who go to bed with the scent of raw sewage in the air, mothers who queue for hours to fetch water from unreliable sources, and families who share tiny one-room shelters without ventilation. These living conditions breed disease, insecurity, and despair. The slums are loud, chaotic, and bursting with resilience, but they are also marked by the silent trauma of a forgotten people.
Contrast this with Karen or Muthaiga. Wide tarmack roads, consistent power supply, running water, waste collection services, green parks, and a sense of order. It is not a crime to be wealthy, and no one should be vilified for their success. But the existence of such stark inequality in a single city should disturb the conscience of any just society. Nairobi is a city of two nations – one dignified, the other degraded. This is not sustainable. Social cohesion cannot thrive where the gap between privilege and poverty is so visibly extreme.
> High Court Makes Key Ruling on Property Completion Delays
This is why the government’s affordable housing project must be seen through the lens of human dignity and national transformation. Housing is not just a roof over one’s head; it is the foundation of a stable life. Decent housing influences health outcomes, educational achievement, economic productivity, and social behaviour. It is a human right and a moral imperative. To oppose it blindly is to ignore the pain and indignity of millions who have been condemned to live without hope or dignity.
Of course, questions around transparency, funding, land acquisition, and political motivation are valid. There must be oversight. There must be accountability. There must be planning that prioritizes the most vulnerable. But the spirit of the housing programme must not be lost in political noise. We cannot let partisanship or elite cynicism blind us to the reality that for many Kenyans, a clean room with a lockable door and a private toilet is a dream they may never realize without public intervention.
In the slums, fires consume entire blocks because of poor wiring and congested spaces. Diseases like cholera and typhoid are common because of unhygienic conditions. School-going children struggle to study in darkness and noise. How does one revise for an exam when your “home” is a ten-by-ten structure you share with five others? How does a mother raise her children with dignity when she has to use a flying toilet or beg for space to bathe her baby in the open?
The affordable housing programme offers an exit from this cycle of indignity. It is not a perfect solution. It may not be fast enough or big enough. But it is a start. If implemented sincerely, it can change lives. It can create jobs. It can stimulate local industries. It can restore order in urban planning. More importantly, it can give the poor a sense that they matter, that they are seen, that they too belong to this nation.
Housing is a conversation about what kind of society we want to become. Are we comfortable with pockets of prosperity surrounded by oceans of poverty? Are we ready to build a Kenya where dignity is not the preserve of the rich? Can we reimagine our cities to include everyone – not as charity, but as justice?
Suburban Comfort
Those who oppose the programme in totality must ask themselves one question: what alternative are they offering to the millions stuck in slums? It is easy to critique from air-conditioned offices or suburban comfort. But governance must be about vision, courage, and care. To house the poor is to recognize their humanity. It is to undo years of structural neglect and urban marginalization.
When future generations look back, they will not remember the political speeches or social media debates. They will remember whether we rose to the occasion or squandered the chance to uplift the most vulnerable. Let us not delay justice for another generation. Let us not dismiss progress because it is imperfect. Let us support the idea that no Kenyan should be born and raised in a place where dignity is impossible.
Because if you have seen Kibra and Karen in the same day, then you know – affordable housing is not a luxury. It is a moral obligation. The affordable housing scheme makes a mini Muthaiga in Mathare slums. Yes.
Ashford Gikunda teaches English and Literature in Gatundu North Sub County.
Leave a comment