Edward Githae | August 2025
Kimani Wamatangi, Kiambu County’s governor, has submitted Thika’s application for city status to Kenya’s Senate, complete with plans for transforming the municipality into an “industrial smart city”. The Kiambu County Assembly approved the proposal in June 2025, moving Thika just two steps away from becoming Kenya’s sixth city. Yet the more pressing question is whether conferring urban titles will translate into urban competence.
Kenya’s municipal track record offers sobering lessons about the gap between aspiration and execution. If successful, Thika would join Nairobi, Mombasa, Kisumu, Nakuru and Eldoret in Kenya’s expanding roster of cities—each offering cautionary tales about what can go wrong when urban planning follows political priorities rather than practical needs.

Nairobi exemplifies the perils of unmanaged growth. East Africa’s commercial hub attracts investment and talent whilst simultaneously repelling both with legendary traffic congestion and sprawling informal settlements. The capital’s infrastructure appears designed more by land speculation than by engineering, creating a metropolis that is simultaneously indispensable and dysfunctional.
Mombasa presents different challenges rooted in geography rather than governance alone. Kenya’s principal port drives regional trade but sits vulnerably low along the coast, with drainage systems inadequate for increasingly volatile weather patterns. Recent flooding has exposed how quickly municipal infrastructure can become municipal liability when climate resilience takes second place to development speed.
Kisumu, on Lake Victoria’s shores, illustrates the hollowness of “smart city” ambitions when basic services remain broken. The city’s sewerage reaches only a fraction of residents, whilst untreated waste and invasive water hyacinth choke the lake’s fisheries. Digitising services whilst raw sewage flows into the principal water body represents technological theatre, not urban progress.
Under Kenya’s Urban Areas and Cities Act, municipalities seeking city status must demonstrate at least 250,000 residents, comprehensive development plans, sustainable revenue generation and capacity to deliver core services including water, sanitation, health and education. These criteria appear sensible on paper; their enforcement in practice tells a different story.

The conferment process involves multiple stages: municipal application to county executives, gubernatorial committee review by professional bodies, county assembly approval, Senate consideration and finally presidential gazettement. Each step offers opportunities for rigorous assessment—or bureaucratic box-ticking.
Three tests should guide Senate deliberations. First, fiscal sustainability. Too many Kenyan municipalities depend on volatile land sales rather than stable revenue streams to finance recurring obligations. Senators should demand evidence of diversified income sources and conservative financial projections, not optimistic wish-lists that assume perpetual property booms.
Second, infrastructure must precede status. The legal requirements mention core service delivery capacity, but enforcement varies dramatically. New cities should demonstrate functioning water systems, adequate sewerage coverage and reliable waste management before receiving ceremonial recognition.
Third, climate resilience cannot remain an afterthought. Kenya’s increasingly erratic weather patterns expose the fragility of municipal systems designed for yesterday’s climate. Cities seeking recognition should prove their infrastructure can withstand flooding, drought and the extreme weather that climate change makes routine.
The “smart city” label that features prominently in Thika’s application deserves particular scrutiny. Digital infrastructure and data systems are valuable tools, but poor substitutes for functioning basics. Sensors cannot compensate for broken sewers; mobile applications cannot cure traffic gridlock caused by inadequate transport planning.

Moreover, smart city initiatives raise governance questions about data ownership, access rights and surveillance safeguards that many municipalities are unprepared to address. The Senate should insist on transparent data governance frameworks as conditions of any technology-focused development plans.
The Senate’s 2021 approval of Nakuru’s city status, with 38 senators supporting and only two opposing, suggests political considerations may outweigh technical assessments. This pattern risks turning city status into a participation trophy rather than recognition of genuine urban capacity.
Reform of the conferment process could transform symbolic gestures into performance contracts. Rather than conferring permanent status upon meeting minimum criteria, the Senate could establish probationary cityhood with regular reviews tied to service delivery metrics and fiscal performance.
If Thika’s application succeeds based on demonstrable infrastructure improvements, sustainable revenue plans and genuine service delivery capacity, it could establish higher standards for future applicants. If it succeeds primarily through political mobilisation whilst basic services remain inadequate, Kenya will have gained another city that looks impressive on letterheads whilst remaining disappointing for residents.
The choice facing senators extends beyond Thika’s particular merits to broader questions about Kenya’s urban future. The country can continue conferring city status as political rewards, creating municipalities that struggle with the responsibilities that titles entail. Or it can insist that urban recognition follow urban competence, ensuring that Kenya’s cities serve their residents as effectively as they serve political ambitions.







