When Good Intentions Fall Short: Reflections on Climate Resilience Projects in Vihiga

This week has been a whirlwind in Vihiga County. The Governor has been on the move, launching project after project—each meant to signal progress, resilience, and commitment to improving the lives of residents. On the surface, it feels like the county is on a steady path toward climate resilience and development. Bridges, irrigation schemes, and water projects are being unveiled with great promise.

Take the Mutave–Jepses bridge in Hamisi, for instance. For years, residents have endured untold suffering trying to cross this dangerous spot that links Tambua Ward to Kisumu and Nandi Counties. Many lives have been lost there. Redeveloping it is a commendable step forward, yet questions linger. The cost—12 million shillings—has sparked debate, especially given that the structure resembles more of a box-culvert than a durable bridge with strong guard rails. Was it truly value for money, or another example of cutting corners where safety should be paramount?

Credits: County Government of Vihiga (FaceBook)

But perhaps the most telling story unfolded in Vigina. Here, a water project intended to bring relief to residents has instead turned into a source of frustration, distrust, and even illness. Delayed timelines, whispered allegations of political manipulation, and glaring flaws in design have overshadowed the intended benefits. The storage tank, instead of supplying clean water, has been letting in dirt and contamination, causing multiple infections among the community due to unmanaged underground seepage. Even more worrying, the pump has broken down three times—before the project has even been officially launched.

What played out yesterday was a moment of reckoning. As officials prepared to launch the project, residents stood firm. They demanded accountability. They insisted that no packaged water should be brought to the site—because doing so would mock the very purpose of the project. If the water was safe, they said, let the officials drink it themselves. This bold stand forced everyone present to confront the uncomfortable truth: the project was not ready, and worse, it had failed in its most basic duty—to serve the people safely.

Behind these struggles lies a deeper problem. Public participation, the backbone of meaningful development, appears to have been hijacked by political interests. Residents feel sidelined, their voices drowned out by the loudest in power. Even engineers from the funding agency have now admitted what the people already knew—the project is deeply flawed.

These experiences reveal a paradox in our county’s journey toward resilience. On one hand, there is vision, investment, and political will. On the other, there are gaps—of transparency, accountability, and inclusivity—that risk undermining the very progress being celebrated. Climate resilience is not built through ribbon-cutting ceremonies or grand speeches. It is built when projects meet the actual needs of communities, when designs are robust, when participation is genuine, and when leaders put people before politics.

As Vihiga moves forward, the lesson is clear: development must be more than symbolic. It must be sustainable, people-centered, and trustworthy. The courage shown by the residents of Vigina offers hope. It reminds us that accountability begins when citizens demand better, and when leaders choose to listen.

About Author: Kevin Makova