A worker has lost his life and several others have been injured following the collapse of part of a multi-storey building under construction – owned by an Italian company – on the beach known as Twiga, in Jacaranda Bay, Watamu. This is not merely a news item, nor is it simply a construction site accident: it is the result of a long chain of negligence, complicity and vested interests that have for years been disfiguring one of Kenya’s most beautiful stretches of coastline.
Whilst the local community mourns a life cut short whilst trying to bring home a packet of flour and two tomatoes, the collapse of an eyesore under construction on one of the town’s (once) most spectacular beaches has reignited the debate on lax planning permissions, corruption and a model of development in which, all too often, Italian entrepreneurs also play a leading role in the most unscrupulous construction practices.
Indeed, now that the damage has been done, we must ask why that building was there in the first place, why anyone authorised such a controversial project and why, once again, money seems to have carried more weight than the law, the environment and even the safety of those working on the site.
Yes, because for some, Kenya continues to be the place where what would be impossible in Europe suddenly becomes feasible. Where planning restrictions become nuisances to be circumvented, permits become procedures to be ‘greased’, and compliance with the rules becomes a superfluous luxury. Until, inevitably, the bill comes due.
The tragedy unfolded whilst workers were pouring the basement floor slab, when the structure suddenly collapsed.
According to initial reports, the project – which had been reduced to a precarious skeleton and was carried out by Italians who, 24 hours after the incident, are already untraceable – had long been at the centre of controversy. Environmentalists, residents and tour operators had opposed the construction of the building because it was to be built less than sixty metres from the high-tide line, in an area subject to special environmental protection measures. Despite this, the permits were reportedly granted anyway.
Several fellow Italians had already contacted malindikenya.net in the past to seek clarification, and the advice given was for residents to ‘close ranks’ and file a complaint. But in the face of corruption, it takes great cohesion, unity of purpose and courage to achieve anything.
Naturally, it will be up to the judiciary to determine any direct liability for the collapse, but the context in which this tragedy unfolded warrants reflection that goes far beyond this single incident.
For years, Malindikenya.net has been denouncing a phenomenon that is as obvious as it is embarrassing: some Italian entrepreneurs, having arrived in Kenya with considerable financial resources and few scruples, seem to regard the country as a sort of ‘Wild West’ of the construction industry. What in Italy would be halted by a planning committee, a public prosecutor’s office or simply opposition from the public, here all too often finds the way cleared thanks to dubious permits, flexible interpretations of the rules and, in the worst cases, corruption.
It is not a question of nationality. There are reputable entrepreneurs who invest whilst respecting the law and making a genuine contribution to the development of the coast. But there is also a minority that has exported the worst of Italian construction culture: the belief that everything has a price and that every obstacle can be circumvented.
The result is plain for all to see. The coastline of Watamu and Malindi is dotted with buildings erected where they should not have been: hotels and holiday complexes that have devoured coastal vegetation, altered the landscape and often fuelled a property market based more on connections than on compliance with the rules.
In this case, witness accounts gathered on site also point to possible use of substandard materials and questionable construction choices – aspects that will need to be verified by technical investigations. But even before the quality of the concrete or the diameter of the steel bars, there is one question that looms large: who authorised such a controversial project in such a sensitive area?
Responsibility, in fact, cannot stop at the gates of the building site. If a building is constructed where it should not be, it means that someone signed off on the permits, someone turned a blind eye during inspections, and someone prioritised private interests over the public good.
Every time a tragedy occurs, the authorities promise reviews and commissions of inquiry. Then, as the weeks go by, everything returns to the way it was before. Until the next collapse.
The death of this worker should, instead, mark a turning point. Out of respect for the victim, his family and a place like Watamu, which thrives on the extraordinary beauty of its natural environment and cannot afford to be turned into a museum of eyesores.
Because this is not merely a question of concrete, of ugliness or beauty, or of disfiguring the landscape with eyesores. It is a matter of conscience. And when greed, corruption and contempt for the rules become the real building project, sooner or later it is inevitable that someone will pay with their life.