MUSALIA MUDAVADI
Africa-Press – Kenya. Earlier this month, I appeared before the Senate Standing Committee on National Security, Defence and Foreign Relations, responding to questions about the status of Kenyan citizens who had been lured to Russia’s Military Operation in Ukraine. I reported that the Government of Kenya held successful discussions with the Government of the Russian Federation, in which we agreed to stop Kenyans from being enlisted in that war.
This government intervention was urgent and critical, even as we made arrangements and coordinated efforts to bring back home our sons who had been drafted into the foreign war, some on false promises by rogue recruitment agencies.
While discussing global insecurity, I could not help thinking about the wars and insecurity
in the Middle East, Russia and Ukraine, and in places like the “Golden Triangle” region of Laos, Thailand and Myanmar. The lesson was impossible to ignore. We cannot take for granted the importance of peace and stability within our own borders.
I made the point then, and I believe in it strongly, that while roads, railways and other infrastructure matter, of what use are they if we do not have a peaceful and just society in which our citizens can enjoy productive livelihoods?
We often speak about development in physical terms. We count bridges, highways, airports, ports and buildings. That is fine. Infrastructure is necessary to drive economic and social change. But we must also think very seriously about the economic value of peace and stability.
They may be intangible, but trust me, they are transformative and fundamental to our future. Peace and stability change lives, shape confidence and open up opportunities for investment and prosperity.
By way of illustration, look at what is happening in the Middle East. There are countries in that region with world-class facilities and infrastructure, but many of those facilities are now underutilised or damaged by drones, missiles, uncertainty and war. A destabilised society cannot fully benefit from even the best-built systems.
So, I ask again, what is the purpose of all that infrastructure without peace and stability? What do the finest roads mean when people are afraid to travel? What does an efficient and effective railway system or airport mean when insecurity makes everything uncertain?
There is, without doubt, immense economic value in peace and stability. It gives confidence to our citizens. It creates a conducive environment for domestic and foreign investors to do business. Honestly, even if we build the best airport in the region, which I know we soon will, it cannot have the intended impact without peace and stability.
Furthermore, the consequence of the disruption of global energy security, food and critical supply chains, which we are witnessing following the crisis in the Middle East, makes it even clearer. What of the cost of restoration after an episode of chaos? Lost lives, damaged properties, reduced investor confidence and a decline in economic activity. Physical infrastructure can be rebuilt, but there is no revival of dead people. Death is permanent, a scar that cannot be healed.
We should be the last ones to entertain this, especially after the post-election violence we experienced in 2007-08. Let us also not forget about the lives and jobs lost, the children pulled out of school, the hospitals without electricity because power was disrupted and all those essential services that ground to a halt. The scars of conflict do not show up in any budget, but they stay with us for generations.
As I think through all this, there is a concept I keep coming back to: enlightened self-interest. It sounds academic at first, but it is simple. It is the idea that in looking out for others, we are also looking out for ourselves. That our individual well-being is tied, whether we like it or not, to the well-being of others and the country as a whole. A big part of that well-being is peace, not just the absence of conflict, but a deliberate choice, day after day, to build and protect it.
Sometimes we get it wrong. We imagine that acting in our own interest means pushing harder, winning louder or even divisive politics when it suits some of us. But enlightened self-interest interrogates something deeper. It asks us to choose peace even when it is inconvenient. The call is to reject the kind of leadership that thrives on tension, fear or division. To understand that when we undermine peace, we are, in truth, undermining ourselves.
So, when a citizen chooses restraint over provocation, when a leader chooses unity over inflammatory rhetoric, when communities choose dialogue over confrontation, that is not weakness. That is wisdom. It is a recognition that none of us can thrive in a country that is unstable, anxious or constantly on edge. The truth is, my success is tied to yours, and yours to mine. And once we accept that, even quietly, it begins to change how we view our homeland.
The Kenya we build together will depend on the choices we make now. Not in some distant future, but today, because it is easy to celebrate peace when it is already there. The harder thing, the real thing, is to protect it when it is tested.
We therefore must be deliberate about the leaders we elevate and the words we normalise because, if enlightened self-interest teaches us anything, it is that a peaceful Kenya is not just a national ideal. It is a personal one. We can choose conflict and chaos. Or we can choose peace, stability and shared prosperity.
Source: The Star
