
31/08/2025
Empty Promises and Family Enrichment: The Stagnant Reign of Governor Jama
In the dusty political arena of Garissa, Governor Nathif Jama has once again taken to the podium, armed with a new set of promises designed to dazzle the electorate. His latest pledge—to establish a camel milk processing factory and a fruit processing plant—sounds like a page torn from a development manifesto. However, for the long-suffering residents of the county, these are not pledges of progress; they are a painful echo of a broken record, a blatant attempt to mask eight years of systemic failure and personal enrichment with the gloss of new projects.
A closer examination of the Governor’s tenure reveals a chasm between rhetoric and reality so vast it would be laughable if it weren't so tragic. Having spent a first term of five years with virtually nothing to show for it, the Governor is now in the dying embers of his second term. With only two years remaining, the promised land of development remains a mirage. The question on everyone's mind is simple: if the foundational work for these multi-billion-shilling factories hasn't even begun in eight years, what miracle does he intend to perform in twenty-four months?
The answer, it seems, lies not in public project blueprints, but in private bank accounts. While county hospitals languish without drugs and roads disintegrate into impassable gullies, a very specific segment of the county has experienced unprecedented "development." The Governor’s immediate family members have found themselves on the county payroll in a blatant display of nepotism. Meanwhile, a sudden wave of entrepreneurship has swept through his inner circle. Where there was once nothing, there now stand gyms, bustling hardware stores, and lucrative real estate ventures—all linked to his close relatives.
This is not a story of shrewd business acumen; it is a textbook case of state capture. The narrative of relatives who "a few years ago didn’t even own a bicycle" now cruising in expensive, fuel-guzzling machines is not a source of pride—it is the most damning evidence of resources meant for public good being diverted for private luxury. The people did not elect a Governor to run a family business; they elected him to build roads, schools, and hospitals.
In a desperate attempt to create a legacy, the Governor recently presided over the elevation of Dadaab and Balambala to municipality status. He paraded this administrative change as a crowning achievement of his development agenda. But what is the substance of this status change? Where are the paved streets, the improved water systems, the sewage lines, and the street lighting that should accompany such an upgrade? A mere change in legal designation without a corresponding injection of infrastructure investment is not development; it is an empty title, a paper victory that does nothing to improve the lives of the residents.
The real infrastructure—the tangible proof of a government’s commitment—is conspicuously absent. Drive through the county and you will see the true legacy of this administration: the same dilapidated roads that hinder trade and access to markets, the same struggling healthcare facilities, the same schools lacking basic resources. The "loot," as it is widely known, has directly caused this paralysis in infrastructure development. Funds that should have been tarmacking roads have instead been used to tarmac the driveways of the powerful.
Governor Jama’s new factories are not a promise; they are a smokescreen. They are a calculated distraction from the hard questions about missing funds, ghost projects, and the alarming wealth accumulation of his circle. The people of Garissa are not fools. They can see the expensive new cars their taxes paid for. They can see the new buildings their CDF fund built for private gain.
With two years left, it is clear that the Governor’s priority is not laying the foundation for a milk factory, but laying the groundwork for his political survival and the protection of his family’s ill-gotten wealth. The people deserve more than speeches and status upgrades. They deserve accountable leadership and tangible development, both of which have been tragically lacking for eight long years.