By Gitile Naituli
After spending the better part of this week at the Devolution Conference in Homa Bay County, I left with a sobering realization: thirteen years into Kenya’s devolved governance experiment, most counties have little to show for the powers and resources they’ve been entrusted with since 2013.
I walked through nearly every booth, notebook in hand, eager to witness the fruits of devolution.
Out of 47 counties, only a handful—Meru, Machakos, Nyamira, Kakamega, Makueni, and surprisingly, the Music Centre (Mombasa University Students Innovation Centre)—presented anything remotely innovative.
The rest offered recycled posters, dusty brochures, and photo collages of leaders shaking hands. It was a depressing display.
Devolution was never meant to be a travelling roadshow of political selfies and empty slogans.
It was designed to bring decision-making closer to the people, to empower counties to generate their own wealth, and to build industries that create jobs and improve livelihoods.
Yet, walking through the exhibition, it was clear that many governors missed the memo.
Where were the value-added products? Where were the county-owned enterprises turning local produce into profitable exports? Where were the SMEs and cooperatives that counties should be incubating and scaling?
 Instead, too many counties seemed content to showcase photos of ribbon-cutting ceremonies, borehole launches, and road inspections—as if basic service delivery is the pinnacle of economic ambition.
Let me be blunt. Counties like Baringo, Tana River, Isiolo, Turkana, Samburu, West Pokot, Kisumu, Kitui, and Kilifi had stands that were embarrassing.
These regions possess vast natural resources, rich cultural heritage, and fertile lands.
Yet they arrived at a national conference with little more than glossy flyers and a few jars of honey.
It’s not that these counties lack potential.
Turkana could lead in leather processing from its livestock population.
Tana River could thrive in irrigated fruit farming. Kisumu could be East Africa’s fish processing hub.
Kitui could host a vibrant cotton and textile industry.
But year after year, these opportunities lie dormant while counties queue for the next disbursement from Nairobi.
Contrast this with counties that understand their mandate.
Meru County showcased banana wine and herbal medicine for diabetic wounds—products rooted in local resources with market potential far beyond their borders.
Machakos impressed with tech-driven and agro-processing initiatives.
Nyamira’s value-added tea products and Kakamega’s and Makueni’s agro-based enterprises demonstrated the power of aligning with natural strengths.
Even the Music Centre, though not a county government initiative, proved what can happen when youthful innovation is given room to flourish.
The sad reality is that most counties have spent the past thirteen years acting like branch offices of the national government—waiting for allocations, spending most of it on salaries and allowances, and treating own-source revenue as an optional extra.
Article 175 of the Constitution envisioned counties with reliable sources of revenue.
Yet in 2025, most counties generate barely enough to buy office tea without Treasury support.
This is not just a governance failure—it’s an insult to the spirit of devolution.
To fix this, county governments must urgently rethink their priorities.
They must identify and exploit their comparative advantages.
They must invest in value addition, stop selling raw produce, and process it locally to capture more value.
They must create a real business environment by providing affordable credit, infrastructure, and market access for local entrepreneurs.
They must partner strategically with the private sector and development partners, while retaining local ownership.
And most importantly, they must measure success by revenue growth—not photo ops.
Own-source revenue should be the top performance indicator for every governor.
If we continue excusing mediocrity with talk of “teething problems,” we’ll be having the same conversation in 2035—only poorer.
The people of underperforming counties should be asking their leaders hard questions, starting with: Where is our signature industry?
Thirteen years is long enough to prove a concept.
Counties that have failed to innovate have failed their people and betrayed the promise of devolution.
The next Devolution Conference should not be a taxpayer-funded retreat for governors to pose for cameras.
It should be a competitive marketplace of ideas and products, where counties earn their space not by political clout, but by what they have actually created.
Until that happens, devolution will remain an empty showroom—beautiful on the outside, hollow on the inside.
-Although permission was not obtained to publish this article, the decision was made to give it more visibility since it touches on an issue that affects the entire nation.