A Tale of Two Journeys: Power, Optics, and the Mandera Reality

Recent images circulating online have ignited debate across Kenya: on one side, political leaders from northern Kenya flying comfortably alongside President William Ruto to Mandera; on the other, ordinary citizens enduring long, punishing journeys on deteriorating roads. The contrast is not just visual, it is political, economic, and symbolic of a deeper national issue that Kenya has struggled with for decades: unequal development.

The President’s visit to Mandera was part of a broader tour aimed at addressing what his administration has repeatedly described as decades of marginalization in northern Kenya. During the visit, he pledged major infrastructure projects, including roads, housing, electricity expansion, and even a proposed airport to improve connectivity. These promises are not new; successive governments have acknowledged the region’s neglect. What is different now is the intensity of public scrutiny, fueled largely by social media imagery that exposes the stark gap between leadership experience and citizen reality.

Let’s strip the emotion and look at the facts.

Northern Kenya, particularly counties like Mandera, has historically suffered from poor infrastructure. Road networks are not just underdeveloped, they are, in many cases, barely functional. Reports and local accounts consistently describe roads in deplorable conditions, making travel slow, expensive, and sometimes dangerous. A journey that should take hours can stretch into days, especially during adverse weather. Public transport is unreliable, and private alternatives are costly for the average resident.

Now compare that to political mobility.

Leaders, by necessity or privilege, move by air. During high profile visits like this one, flights are arranged for efficiency, security, and time management. From a purely logistical standpoint, this makes sense. A president cannot spend two days on a road trip when national duties demand speed. But here is where the optics collapse: when leaders repeatedly bypass the very infrastructure they promise to fix, it unintentionally sends a message, these roads are not good enough for us, but they are good enough for you.

That is not just bad optics; it is a credibility problem.

Supporters of the government argue that the current administration is actively investing in long overdue projects. For example, the planned Isiolo Mandera road and other transport initiatives are meant to integrate the region into the national economy. If completed, such projects could transform mobility, trade, and access to services. But here is the uncomfortable truth: promises do not move people, roads do. Until those projects are completed and functional, citizens judge leadership based on lived experience, not press statements.

Critics, on the other hand, see the situation as a continuation of performative politics. High profile visits, public pledges, and symbolic gestures often generate headlines but fail to translate into sustained change on the ground. The circulating images reinforce that skepticism. They are simple, powerful, and brutal: leaders fly; citizens suffer.

And this is where you need to be honest, this outrage is not really about flights. It is about trust.

If the roads in Mandera were even moderately functional, no one would care how leaders arrived. The issue is that the contrast exposes a gap between political messaging and everyday reality. It highlights a system where development is promised repeatedly but delivered slowly, unevenly, or sometimes not at all.

There is also a deeper structural issue. Northern Kenya’s underdevelopment is not just about neglect; it is tied to geography, insecurity concerns, historical policy decisions, and low investment returns. Fixing it is not quick or cheap. Massive infrastructure projects require billions of shillings, years of construction, and consistent political will, something Kenya’s political cycles often disrupt.

So where does that leave this controversy?

Blaming leaders for flying is lazy analysis. But ignoring what those images represent is worse. The real issue is not how leaders travel, it is why citizens have no viable alternative.

Until a resident of Mandera can travel on a smooth, reliable road without risking time, money, and safety, these comparisons will keep resurfacing. And every time they do, they will undermine whatever development narrative the government is trying to push.

Here is the blunt conclusion:
If the government wants to win this argument, it does not need better PR, it needs working roads.