There comes a time when a people must look honestly at their circumstances and ask difficult questions.
For the people of the Coast region, that time is now. Why does a region that contributes immensely to the national economy continue to lag behind in major government investments? Why are critical infrastructure projects at the Coast delayed for years, sometimes decades, while similar projects elsewhere are implemented with remarkable speed? Why do coastal residents continue to encounter discriminatory administrative practices that have long been abandoned in other parts of the country? Most importantly, why does it often feel as though the Coast is expected to settle for less than what other Kenyans rightfully receive?
These are not questions born out of bitterness. They are questions born out of lived experiences. For decades, the Coast region has carried the burden of historical injustices, economic exclusion and political marginalisation.
Successive governments have acknowledged these challenges, promised corrective measures and assured residents that their concerns would be addressed. Yet despite these promises, many of the same patterns persist today.
While other regions witness the rapid implementation of transformative projects, the Coast is too often left waiting, explaining and hoping.
Nothing illustrates this reality more clearly than the long promised Likoni gate bridge. For years, residents of Mombasa and the wider Coast region have been told that a permanent solution to the challenges of crossing the Likoni channel was finally on the horizon.
According to information published by the Ministry of Transport, the project was expected to commence in January 2024 and take about 36 months to complete.
The bridge, estimated to cost about Sh100 billion, was presented as a game changing investment that would ease transportation challenges, boost economic activity and restore dignity to thousands of commuters who rely on the crossing every day.
Today, however, as the completion period approaches, there is no bridge. Instead, coastal residents are being told that what may eventually be provided is a ferry estimated to cost about Sh3 billion.
This dramatic shift raises serious questions about the government’s commitment to the project and more broadly, its commitment to the people of the Coast. How does a region move from being promised a world-class bridge to being offered yet another ferry? Why are coastal residents expected to celebrate a substitute when they were promised a permanent solution? If a similar promise had been made elsewhere in the country, would citizens have quietly accepted such an outcome?
The story is strikingly similar when one examines the Nyali Bridge-Mtwapa Road project. This is a road stretch of roughly 20km, yet construction has dragged on for more than seven years! During this period, residents, businesses, tourists and transport operators have endured endless traffic jams, delays, dust, accidents and economic losses.
The prolonged nature of the project has become so normalised that many have stopped questioning it altogether. Yet when one compares this experience with major road projects in other regions of Kenya, the contrast becomes impossible to ignore.
Across the country, roads spanning hundreds of kilometres are designed, financed and completed within timelines far shorter than those witnessed on this relatively short stretch at the Coast.
The issue is not that other regions are receiving development. Every Kenyan region and county deserve roads, bridges, hospitals and schools. The issue is whether all regions are receiving equal attention and equal urgency. Development should never be a competition between communities. However, it becomes difficult to ignore the glaring disparities when some projects appear to move at lightning speed while others remain trapped in endless delays.
Perhaps no example better captures this disparity than the situation surrounding Mombasa Stadium. For years, residents have listened to promises regarding the construction and completion of a modern stadium.
Government officials have repeatedly assured the public that progress would be made and that the facility would soon become a reality. Yet despite the announcements and public commitments, there has been little visible progress on the ground.
Meanwhile, in February, residents of Wajir were promised a stadium. By June, the facility had been completed and even hosted national Madaraka Day celebrations.
The people of Wajir fully deserve that development and their achievement should be celebrated. However, the speed with which that project was completed naturally raises questions among coastal residents who have waited years for similar commitments to materialize. Why should one region move from promise to completion within months while another remains trapped in perpetual anticipation?
The sense of unequal treatment extends beyond infrastructure. For many years, residents of the Coast have complained about discriminatory vetting processes in the issuance of national identity cards and passports.
While in all other parts of the country, including Northeastern, Kenyans now obtain these essential documents through ordinary administrative procedures, here at the Coast, communities continue to face additional scrutiny and requirements.
Young people seeking identification documents still encounter delays, demands for extra documentation and processes that effectively force them to prove their citizenship in ways that other Kenyans are rarely required to do.
Such practices are not merely inconvenient. They are fundamentally inconsistent with the values enshrined in Kenya’s constitution. Article 27 guarantees equality and freedom from discrimination, affirming that every person is equal before the law and entitled to equal protection and equal benefit of the law.
When certain communities consistently experience barriers that others do not, legitimate concerns about discrimination inevitably arise. Citizenship should not depend on geography, ethnicity, religion or family history. Every Kenyan deserves equal treatment from the State.
The tragedy is that the Coast possesses enormous potential. It is home to Kenya’s main seaport, world renowned tourism attractions, a vibrant blue economy, strategic transport corridors and a youthful population capable of driving economic growth.
With sufficient investment and political commitment, the region could become one of the most prosperous parts of the country. Yet despite these advantages, public investment has often failed to match the region’s contribution to the national economy.
However, while national governments must shoulder much of the responsibility for this state of affairs, coastal leaders cannot escape accountability. Too often, leaders from the region have accepted promises instead of demanding implementation.
They have celebrated project launches while remaining silent about project delays. They have failed to speak with one voice on matters affecting the welfare and development of the people they represent. In many cases, political loyalty has taken precedence over effective advocacy for the region.
The Coast is not a step child of Kenya neither are coastal people second class citizens. They are Kenyans who contribute to the nation’s prosperity, pay taxes, participate in democratic processes and uphold their responsibilities as citizens.
They are therefore entitled to the same respect, opportunities and development enjoyed by all other Kenyans. The time has come for the Coast to demand nothing less than full equality, full inclusion and its rightful share of national development.
