For the earlier part of my life, I was a resident of Mombasa. And as one with an interest in the dynamics of local politics, I got to know many of the coastal elected leaders.
As concerns such leaders, I must point out that if you have never lived in Mombasa, I cannot hope to convey to you the sheer intensity with which such leaders feel that the CEO of the Kenya Ports Authority, must be “one of their own”.
Irrespective of age, religion, party affiliation, or any of the other factors which may apply, they all believe that having any CEO other than an indigenous coastal person violates their rights.
Which is not to say that they have always had their way in this. Many of the managing directors of the KPA have been from places as far afield as Western Kenya and Central Kenya. But this does not mean that coastal leaders have been happy about this. They have merely endured it while waiting for the position to be again occupied by a qualified candidate indigenous to the coast.
So why is it that the KPA has such a grip on the hearts and minds of such elected leaders?
Two words: economic opportunity. On the one hand, service and supply contracts for this very large organisation. And on the other, deeply coveted jobs.
As befits the biggest economic entity in the whole of that region, this state-owned corporation has for years offered some of the best-paying jobs to be had at the Coast. Additionally, under a former management – decades ago – the KPA demolished the colonial-era 'native housing estates' it inherited from its predecessor, the East African Railways and Harbours, and put up excellent modern apartments of the kind that are only now being built in key cities around Kenya.
It was therefore an article of faith that if a coastal family had a son or daughter employed at the port, that son or daughter would not only be able to easily educate younger siblings but would have a nice three-bedroom apartment for them to stay in while attending one of the better public day schools in Mombasa city.
Imagine then the amount of pressure that the coastal MPs – and especially those from the rural interior constituencies – routinely come under from their supporters to “place” their children at the port.
In my view, however, it is high time the leaders of the coastal region put an end to this obsession with KPA. Most of them that I have known over the years, understand enough about the operations of the port to appreciate that the heydays of port employment opportunities are long over.
Although the Port of Mombasa will continue to expand and handle more and more cargo, that does not mean that it will create more and more jobs. There may actually be fewer and fewer jobs, and these mostly for specialised machine operators, as the key functions of the port will continue to be mechanised and automated.
For those who may not know much about the operations of major ports in industrialised nations, I would compare Mombasa port with the German port of Hamburg.
Hamburg handles roughly six times the amount of cargo that Mombasa does. Yet both ports employ roughly the same number of people at about 6,000 employees.
There was once a time when port operations in Mombasa involved a large number of casual labourers moving sacks of produce from ship to shore. So much so that there was actually a separate state corporation – the East African Cargo Handling Co – which employed these stevedores.
But all such movement of cargo is now automated and mechanised. Most cargo now arrives in containers. And the trends globally are towards more and more automation and mechanisation of port operations.
So, while the pressure on coastal MPs, governors and senators will continue to pile up, no good can come from encouraging the indigenous coastal people to believe that great job opportunities lie waiting at the port, if only it were run by “one of their own”.
Coastal leaders need a vision for their region that is not centred on opportunities for employment and service contracts at the port.