There is a market in Kitale that cost over Sh874 million of public money, took years longer than it should have, and is now at the centre of one of the most explosive political confrontations Kenya has seen in recent memory. On one side stands President William Ruto, who flew into Trans Nzoia County on October 16 and essentially tried to plant his flag on a project he had little to do with building. On the other stands Governor George Natembeya, who responded by ripping out the President’s plaque and redistributing the market stalls himself. This is not petty politics. This is a fight about whether devolution in Kenya means anything at all.
The Masinde Muliro Market in Kitale was conceived and funded by the Trans Nzoia County Government, commissioned in the 2017/2018 financial year. The county poured more than Sh800 million into the project. When it stalled at over 95 per cent completion, the county handed over the remaining works to the national government, which then released an additional Sh56 million to push it across the finish line. That is the full picture. Ruto’s contribution was Sh56 million on an Sh874 million project, and yet he stood in Kitale and told the crowd the market would never have been completed without him. That kind of audacity deserves to be called out directly.
The Linda Mwananchi movement, linked to Equitable Party leader Edwin Sifuna and fronted by communications head Pauline Njoroge, did exactly that. In a statement released Monday, the movement accused Ruto of overstepping his constitutional mandate and undermining the very architecture of devolution that Kenyans fought hard to enshrine in the 2010 Constitution. They pointed to the Auditor-General’s report for 2023/2024, which flagged delays, seven contractor extensions, cost variations and land ownership questions — problems that Natembeya inherited from the previous county administration and that the Senate County Public Investments Committee later acknowledged were being addressed. The audit queries were not a scandal Natembeya created; they were a mess he cleaned up.
What makes this moment particularly sharp is the fight over the market stalls themselves. Before Ruto’s launch, the county government had already allocated spaces to approximately 2,700 traders. Natembeya accused the national government of moving to override those allocations, with the President directing the county commissioner — a national government appointee — to prioritise over 1,500 displaced traders instead. Think about what that means in practice: a presidential directive bypassing a governor’s decision on a project the county built, using a national government officer to enforce it. That is not coordination. That is a power grab dressed up as concern for traders.
The confrontation escalated fast. Police and water cannons were deployed at the facility during the standoff, a detail that Bumula MP Jack Wamboka condemned publicly, framing it as an affront to the dignity of Trans Nzoia residents and a chilling signal about how far the national government is willing to go. Clashes between rival supporters on October 16 left two police officers injured and two government vehicles damaged. Natembeya eventually stepped back from holding a separate launch, calling the dispute petty political wars — but the damage to the spirit of devolution had already been done and was already visible to anyone paying attention.
Linda Mwananchi drew a direct line between what happened in Kitale and Ruto’s broader affordable housing programme, warning that the President’s pattern of claiming ownership over development initiatives he did not originate could spread to other public projects across the country. That comparison lands because it speaks to a recognisable habit: attach your name to something, deploy state resources to control the narrative, and hope that the people most affected are too desperate for the service to ask who actually built it. Young Kenyans who lived through the promise of devolution know this playbook. They have seen it before.
The 2027 General Election is already hovering over every word of this confrontation. Linda Mwananchi said so plainly, accusing Ruto of having little to show for his presidency and vowing to mobilise voters against his administration. Natembeya, who has never been shy about his own political ambitions, is positioning himself as a defender of constitutional order at exactly the moment that positioning carries the most weight. Whether you trust his motives or not, the constitutional argument he is making is correct. Market construction is a devolved function. Stall allocation in a county-built market is a county matter. Deploying the county commissioner to override a governor’s decision is an assault on the separation of powers that the Constitution was written to protect.
What happened at Masinde Muliro Market is not an isolated incident between two politicians with bruised egos. It is a test case for whether devolution survives the Ruto era intact. Every time a national government official overrides a county decision, every time a presidential visit is used to rebrand a county project, and every time water cannons appear at a political standoff over a public market, the constitutional bargain that Kenyans made with themselves in 2010 is being quietly renegotiated without their consent. The people of Trans Nzoia deserve a market that serves them. They also deserve a government that respects the rules it swore to uphold. Right now, they are fighting for both.
