This is not the first time Nairobi’s urban renewal projects have sparked controversy. The Pangani Housing Project, launched under the previous administration, was marred by delays and accusations that initial agreements with tenants were disregarded. Some residents say they were promised priority in the new developments, only to be left in limbo as developers prioritised high-paying buyers
By Mdadisi Mmoja
A section of Nairobi’s skyline is evolving at a breakneck pace, with cranes towering over old estates and demolition crews tearing down structures that once housed generations of city dwellers. At the heart of this transformation is Governor Johnson Sakaja’s ambitious Urban Regeneration Project, a grand vision promising thousands of modern housing units. But beneath the glossy renderings and official pronouncements lies a growing storm of discontent—one that threatens to derail the governor’s bold plan.
In Jericho Estate, a community steeped in history, residents are up in arms. They claim they were never properly consulted before the county signed deals with private developers to take over their land. The anger is palpable. “They came with bulldozers before they even sat us down to explain what would happen to us,” says Peter Mwangi, a retired civil servant who has lived in Jericho for over 40 years. “We’re not against development, but why are they making decisions over our heads?”
The Senate’s Roads, Transport and Housing Committee has since waded into the controversy. Senators, led by Edwin Sifuna, have questioned why the county government rushed into signing contracts before completing public consultations. “Public participation is not a box to tick—it is a constitutional right,” Sifuna argued during a heated session.
Governor Sakaja, however, remains defiant. Appearing before the committee, he insisted that consultations had been held across all affected estates. “In Woodley, for example, we compensated residents with Ksh 900,000 each to relocate temporarily,” he explained. “I will personally meet the people of Jericho and ensure they understand the project.”
But if past experiences are anything to go by, words may not be enough
This is not the first time Nairobi’s urban renewal projects have sparked controversy. The Pangani Housing Project, launched under the previous administration, was marred by delays and accusations that initial agreements with tenants were disregarded. Some residents say they were promised priority in the new developments, only to be left in limbo as developers prioritised high-paying buyers.
A similar unease now grips Jericho and other estates earmarked for redevelopment, including Bahati, Maringo, Bondeni, Woodley, and Ziwani. The standard model for these projects involves the county offering land to private developers, who in turn fund construction. A portion of the completed units is allocated to original tenants at subsidised rates, while the rest are sold or rented out commercially.
But crucial details remain opaque. Who decides the allocation percentages? What guarantees do original tenants have? And why are these agreements not made public?
Behind the regeneration drive lies an intricate web of joint ventures and financial arrangements, raising questions about who truly benefits. According to documents seen by The Weekly Vision, private developers will construct more than 5,000 housing units in Pangani alone, with other estates receiving thousands more. Yet concerns persist over the lack of transparency in awarding these lucrative contracts.
A real estate analyst, speaking on condition of anonymity, suggests that political interests may be at play. “There’s a lot of money in urban renewal, and it’s no secret that well-connected firms are securing these deals,” he says. “The risk is that the people meant to benefit—the residents—become collateral damage in the rush to cash in.”
With pressure mounting, the Senate committee has vowed to scrutinise the project’s fine print. Lawmakers have called for a stakeholder retreat, bringing together the governor, developers, and affected communities to ensure the project serves the interests of all Nairobians.
But for residents like Mwangi, the battle is far from over. “We’re not asking for favours—just fairness,” he says, standing outside his ageing house, uncertain whether it will still be standing in a year’s time.
As Nairobi hurtles towards a new urban future, the question remains: Will this regeneration uplift communities, or will it become yet another case of development at the expense of the people?
