general

On Friday afternoon, an eighteen-storey building in Eastleigh came down like a house of cards. Videos captured the moment it folded in on itself, releasing clouds of dust over one of the most crowded commercial and residential districts in East Africa. Rescuers reached the rubble and found people still alive beneath it. One woman was pulled out. Others could be heard calling from somewhere in the concrete. Many more were feared trapped.
Ask yourself who was inside that building. Market traders, families, workers on a lunch break, people who believed the walls around them had been checked by someone whose job it was to check them. Somewhere in that pile are parents who left home that morning expecting to come back. We should not have to ask whether the people responsible for their safety did their jobs. We already know the answer is that too many did not.
The facts are not hidden. Kenya's National Building Inspectorate found that 87 percent of buildings it audited nationwide last year either failed to meet standards or lacked the approvals they needed. Eighty-seven percent. That is not a failing sector. That is a sector that has stopped pretending to follow the rules. The Nairobi governor, Johnson Sakaja, said the building in Eastleigh had no occupation certificate, the formal sign-off that a structure is safe to be lived and worked in. A building of that height without that certificate was not an accident waiting to happen. It was a decision that someone chose to make, and someone chose to look away.
The warnings were not subtle. Engineers at the scene described cracks and visible distress in the structure before it fell. John Ogallo, vice-president of the Institution of Engineers of Kenya, put it bluntly: wrong materials and poor work turn a building into a time bomb. Bibiye Mahmoud, president of the Institution of Engineering Technology of Kenya, said what every honest professional in this country already knows. Contractors and engineers are supposed to ensure that professionals supervise the work, and most do not. There is no accountability. When a profession says there is no accountability, it is confessing that the system has been designed to protect the guilty.
Look at the record. Between 2009 and 2019, Nairobi recorded 86 building collapses that killed an estimated 200 people, according to research from the Kenya Institute for Public Policy Research and Analysis. In April 2016, forty-nine people died when a six-floor apartment block crumbled in the northeast of the capital after heavy rains. In September 2022, five people were killed when a six-storey building collapsed on the city's outskirts. Each of these was a funeral. Each was followed by promises. And then the cranes came back, and the cutting of corners resumed.
Meanwhile the construction boom accelerates. Completed buildings in Nairobi rose from 20,025 in 2022 to 25,090 last year. Rural families and migrants from neighbouring countries pour into the capital looking for work and shelter, and the market answers with concrete stacked as fast as possible. Speed becomes the product. Safety becomes the cost that someone else is expected to absorb. And the people who absorb it are never the developers or the officials who signed the forms. They are the cleaners, the vendors, the mothers with toddlers, the students renting a room on the fourth floor because they cannot afford anything better.
Corruption is the thread that ties every collapse together. When an inspector can be bribed, a certificate can be bought. When a contractor knows the approvals will never be checked, he will cut the steel, thin the concrete, and skip the inspections that would have caught the cracks. Kenya has laws. Kenya has a constitution that promises every citizen the right to life and to a safe environment. The problem is not a shortage of paper. The problem is a shortage of officials willing to enforce that paper against people with money and connections. A law that is not enforced is not a law. It is a suggestion for the poor.
Nor is this a problem Kenya must solve alone or from scratch. Other African nations have shown that transparent, rule-based systems can work. Mauritius built its modern economy by investing in institutions and predictable regulation, and it has repeatedly ranked among the continent's least corrupt states in international indices. Botswana built a stable, prosperous democracy by insisting that public institutions answer to the public. Rwanda, whatever we think of its foreign military adventures, has used digital systems to streamline permits and reduce discretionary bribery in some sectors. The lesson is clear. Strong institutions are not a luxury for rich countries. They are the infrastructure that keeps people alive.
So here is what must happen, and it must happen now. Nairobi and the national government must suspend any unfinished high-rise that lacks a valid occupation certificate and make certification a non-negotiable precondition for occupancy. Every building above a set height should require independent structural audits by licensed engineers who carry personal, legal liability for their signatures, with prison terms for falsified inspections. Permits, inspections and certificates should be recorded in a public digital registry so that any citizen can check whether the building next door has been approved, and by whom. Contractors found using substandard materials should be barred from public tender and held criminally responsible when their work kills people. The building code, which dates back decades, must be updated and enforced without exception. And the private sector, which benefits most from the construction boom, should be the loudest voice demanding honest standards, because a reputation built on dead tenants is worth nothing.
Citizens have a role too. Demand to see the occupation certificate before you sign a lease or move your family into a new block. Ask your ward representative and your MP how many inspectors were hired last year, how many audits were completed, and how many contractors were prosecuted. Support the engineers and professional bodies who are speaking truth in public when they could have stayed silent. Vote for leaders who treat building safety as a matter of life and death rather than a source of patronage.
Friday's collapse did not happen because Kenya lacks engineers or laws. It happened because the people charged with enforcing those laws decided that someone else's life was a price worth paying for convenience and profit. We are tired of counting the dead after the fact. We want the inspector who refuses the bribe, the engineer who refuses to sign, the official who goes to prison for a falsified certificate. Until we see those things, every new tower in Nairobi is a wager that the next family to live inside it will be lucky.
Kenya deserves cities built to stand. The rescuers in Eastleigh are still digging for the voices they heard. The least we can do is make sure the next building is built by people who answer for what they put in it.
Based on reporting by RFI