By GASTONE VALUSI
There was a time when Machakos People’s Park was the heartbeat of the weekend.
For fun lovers from Machakos, Nairobi and beyond, it was the perfect, inexpensive getaway. For less than the cost of a trip to Naivasha or Sagana, families could pack a picnic basket, hop into a matatu and find themselves in a green, well-manicured paradise in the heart of Ukambani.
Built by former Governor Dr Alfred Mutua, the park was more than just grass and benches. It was an experience. It had boat rides on the lake, a dancing fountain, amphitheatres, modern restaurants and open spaces where children could run freely while their parents enjoyed affordable meals.
On any Saturday or Sunday, the park was packed.
But not anymore.
Since the end of Governor Mutua’s tenure, the place has fallen quiet. The music has stopped, the crowds have vanished and the once-lush lawns have given way to long, dry and unmowed grass.
The new administration, led by Governor Wavinya Ndeti, has openly shifted priorities. Her government’s philosophy, captured in the mantra “Chakula Mezani, Pesa Mfukoni” — Food on the Table, Money in the Pocket — has focused squarely on what it calls livelihood sectors.
The thinking is simple: before entertainment, first feed the people.
The county has channelled resources into agriculture, roads, healthcare and bursaries — sectors that directly put money in pockets and food on tables. In that hierarchy, a recreational park, however popular, appears to have become a luxury.
The park, however, has suddenly returned to the limelight following a recent visit by its founder, Labour Cabinet Secretary Dr Alfred Mutua.
Mutua, who toured the facility, decried what he termed a “state of neglect” of his pet project. And many residents, surprisingly, agree with him.
A visit to the park paints a grim picture. The perimeter fence has been vandalised and pulled down in sections. The restaurants that once served thousands of visitors with fish, nyama choma and cold drinks are locked, dusty and deserted. The famous dancing fountain is silent.
One regular visitor recalled with nostalgia the park’s economic ripple effect.
“I’ve always lived in Nairobi but was a regular at Machakos People’s Park. Now such options aren’t there. The 14-seaters plying the Nairobi, Kitengela and Mlolongo route had more business because of that park. Once, a driver wanted to take us inside since half the passengers were headed there, but at the entrance, other beneficiaries — tuk-tuk and Maruti drivers — were gatekeeping their route,” he said.
That story captures the park’s true value. It was not just about fun; it was also about business.
It supported matatu drivers, boda boda riders, photographers, food vendors and small traders. Its popularity created a chain of economic activity that extended well beyond its gates.
The Tragedy of Successor Politics
For Dr Mutua, the decay of the park is symbolic of a bigger Kenyan problem.
He describes it as “the tragedy of African leadership where successors are quick to forget projects initiated by their predecessors, thus making the people fail to realise the value for taxpayers’ money injected in such projects.”
It is a familiar pattern in Kenyan counties — white elephants born not necessarily out of a lack of funds, but out of political rivalry, changing priorities or a reluctance to sustain projects associated with previous administrations.
But there is another question that Machakos residents must confront: Must development always be an either-or proposition?
Must a county choose between putting food on the table and providing its residents with places where they can relax, socialise and enjoy the fruits of their labour?
Recreation is not necessarily a luxury. Parks and public spaces can contribute to local economies, attract visitors, create employment and improve the quality of life for residents.
The challenge, therefore, is not simply whether Machakos should revive People’s Park. It is whether the county can find a sustainable way of maintaining the facility while continuing to invest in sectors that directly affect livelihoods.
The park’s decline also raises a broader question about the sustainability of public projects.
Governments change, governors come and go, and political priorities shift. But projects built using taxpayers’ money belong to the people, not the politicians who initiated them.
As the sun sets over the dry grass of People’s Park, one question hangs in the air: Can Machakos find a way to put both food on the table and leisure within reach?
The answer should not have to be either-or.
