Katiba at 15. The Constitution is not only about governance; it is about the physical spaces in which Kenyans live.
On August 27, 2010, Kenya promulgated a new Constitution, a transformative charter that promised a rebirth of the nation. Fifteen years later, Katiba Day has been inaugurated as a moment to reflect on that promise — and to ask whether it has been fulfilled.
As an architect and citizen, I see this day not as an abstract legal commemoration but as a lived reminder of the spaces we inhabit: the towns we live in, the cities we build, and the environments that sustain our lives.
Constitutions shape how we govern land, housing, water, infrastructure, and the built environment that frames daily existence. Professionals in this space must therefore be central in evaluating Katiba’s legacy and what remains undone.
President William Ruto declared Katiba Day an annual commemoration, urging Kenyans to “obey, preserve, protect, and implement” the supreme law. This recognition embeds constitutional fidelity into the civic calendar, reminding us that rights and duties flow from this framework.
The occasion was marked by pledges of reform: judicial digitization, recruitment of judges, and automation of government services to reduce corruption. Civil society welcomed these moves, noting that justice and transparency are the bridge between constitutional ideals and lived reality.
Yet for many citizens the day felt incomplete. It was not gazetted as a public holiday, and commemorations were confined to the afternoon. On social media, it was described as a “holiday without a holiday.”
The President also admitted that corruption remains entrenched, a candid acknowledgment of the frustration of a nation still struggling to translate the Constitution’s promise into practice. Civil society organizations, including the Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC), highlighted police brutality during protests, shrinking civic space, and delays in devolved funding.
They reminded Kenyans that social and economic rights — housing, healthcare, education, and jobs — remain largely unfulfilled. Counties, meant to anchor democracy and service delivery, are often underfunded, politicized, or captured by elites. Oversight of funds such as NG-CDF continues to undermine county authority.
The Built Environment under the Constitution
The Constitution is not only about governance; it is about the physical spaces in which Kenyans live. Article 42 guarantees the right to a clean and healthy environment. Article 43 secures socio-economic rights, while Article 174 empowers counties to manage land, planning, and development control.
Devolution has brought planning and services closer to citizens. Counties now draft Integrated Development Plans (CIDPs), County Spatial Plans, and Urban Development Strategies. Roads, markets, street lighting, and social amenities have improved in some areas.
Accountability is now demanded not only from Nairobi but also from governors and county assemblies. Yet Kenyan towns and cities remain chaotic. Nairobi is gridlocked, Mombasa struggles with informal settlements, Kisumu faces flooding, and Eldoret expands without adequate zoning.
Urban sprawl, congestion, and environmental degradation dominate landscapes. A central failure is the exclusion of professionals. Decisions on zoning, infrastructure, and land use are often political rather than technical.
The Physical and Land Use Planning Act (PLUPA) establishes professional planning authorities, yet county executives frequently ignore or override expert advice. The results are stark: unsafe high-rises without supporting infrastructure, wetlands encroached upon, green spaces vanishing, and transport systems collapsing under poor integration. Architects are not mere draftsmen of buildings; they are shapers of spatial vision. Yet governance has long treated them as peripheral.
Since independence, zoning and planning have been politicised, with professionals too often summoned only to rubber-stamp predetermined decisions. The consequences are visible everywhere: informal settlements without services, collapsing buildings, flooded estates, and congested roads.
The Constitution emphasises sustainability and public participation. Architects can translate these ideals into reality — designing inclusive spaces, integrating climate resilience, and ensuring accessibility. But without space at the decision-making table, their expertise goes unused. The Constitution makes socio-economic rights binding obligations, not optional aspirations. It is in these binding obligations that professional duty must prevail.
Article 42 — Environmental Rights: Kenyans are entitled to a clean and healthy environment. This means cities free of pollution, functional drainage, and planning that respects wetlands and forests. Professionals in the built environment are indispensable to this vision.
Article 43 — Socio-Economic Rights: Housing, health, food, water, education, and social security all depend on the built environment. Housing requires professional design, hospitals must meet technical standards, and water and sanitation systems need careful planning.
Article 174 — Devolution: Local governance is intended to bring services closer to citizens. But without professional expertise, devolution risks producing fragmented urban chaos rather than sustainable development. There have been successes: some counties have developed innovative markets, affordable housing projects, and effective lighting schemes.
Yet many still fail to implement spatial plans, while public participation often amounts to little more than endorsing predetermined projects. Katiba Day must not be left to politicians. It belongs to all Kenyans — and professionals must reclaim their role in shaping the nation.
Bodies such as the Architectural Association of Kenya (AAK), Institute of Quantity Surveyors of Kenya (IQSK), Institution of Engineers of Kenya (IEK), and Institute of Planners (KIP) must lead boldly: issuing position papers, engaging in legislative debate, and guiding counties with professional frameworks. Architects must see themselves not only as designers but as advocates for justice.
Every collapsed building, flooded estate, or congested road is not just technical failure — it is a constitutional betrayal. Professionals must frame their work as constitutional implementation. We must reclaim planning from politics. Planning decisions should be guided by expertise, not expediency. Professionals must demand enforcement of PLUPA, merit-based appointments in planning offices, and the reversal of illegal developments.
They must also lead public participation — translating technical plans into language citizens can understand, ensuring inclusivity, and making engagement meaningful. Kenya also needs repositories of architectural thought. Professional bodies should document urban successes and failures, publish research, and make knowledge accessible.
This is how the profession can influence national discourse. Katiba at 15 is a mirror. We celebrate its recognition, judicial reforms, and the promise of devolution. But we must also confront corruption, shrinking civic freedoms, and the continued failure to deliver socio-economic rights.
The built environment is the most visible arena of constitutional implementation. It is in the housing estate, the market, the school, the hospital, the road, and the park that the Constitution comes alive.
Yet too often, professionals are excluded and planning is politicised. If we are serious about constitutionalism, we must be serious about professional input. Sustainable towns, livable cities, and climate-resilient infrastructure are not luxuries — they are constitutional rights. Katiba Day belongs to the people. It must also belong to professionals.
Let the next 15 years be remembered not for political speeches but for the moment architects and allied professionals reclaimed their rightful role in shaping Kenya’s destiny.
Sen. Arch. Sylvia Kasanga is the president of The Architects Alliance (TAA).
