How the Government Sank Sh49.5 Billion Into Housing Projects Without Land Ownership

When the government rolled out the so-called Affordable Housing Programme (AHP), it was marketed as the ultimate solution to Kenya’s housing crisis. Flashy launches, ribbon cuttings, and endless speeches promised Kenyans decent homes at a fair price. But scratch beneath the surface, and the cracks are too big to ignore.

Today, millions of Kenyans are paying 1.5% of their salaries every month through the housing levy. Teachers in Kisumu, nurses in Turkana, and clerks in Eldoret are all forced to fund projects being built hundreds of kilometers away in Nairobi, Ruiru, and Athi River. For many, these houses are nothing more than a TV headline. They will never live in them, but their pay slips bleed month after month.

And here’s the worst part: the land where these “affordable houses” are being built doesn’t even have title deeds. Yes, you read that right. Auditor General Nancy Gathungu flagged contracts worth nearly Sh49.5 billion for projects with no proof of land ownership. Without those documents, who really owns the land? How will buyers even get valid ownership papers? The truth is, Kenyans are being asked to pay for houses that legally might not even exist.

Meanwhile, the government boasts of 140,000 houses under construction. Treasury says it’s 124,000. The Ministry of Housing claims it has already created 1.12 million jobs, but Budget estimates tell another story. Which numbers should Kenyans believe? This is a circus of contradictions, not a national plan.

The money collected so far, Sh88.7 billion, hasn’t even gone straight into housing. Much of it has been thrown into Treasury bills, making the scheme look more like a government cash cow than a people’s project. And when Kenyans finally “qualify” for a unit, they are tied to loans running up to 30 years with interest rates of 3% to 9%. Miss your payments? You could be evicted. Imagine losing a home you already paid for through a levy and then a mortgage, a double punishment.

Even the much-hyped “Boma Yangu” platform has exposed the truth. Out of nearly 547,000 registered Kenyans, only about 52,000 have managed to save toward owning a unit. Why? Because ordinary families can’t afford the scheme. They would rather build slowly on ancestral land than sink into a government trap designed to enrich politicians and their cronies.

And speaking of cronies, look at the faces behind these deals. The same politicians who keep shouting about “hustlers” are the ones smiling at project launches, cutting ribbons, and securing contracts for their allies. They are not building houses for ordinary Kenyans. They are building empires for themselves.

So, let’s call it what it is: the affordable housing project is not just a failure. It is a fraud. A grand theft hidden in plain sight, sucking money from payslips in Kisumu, Nyeri, Garissa, and Kitui, all to fund ghost projects in Nairobi.

Forcing Kenyans to pay for houses they will never live in, on land without title deeds, while politicians clap for themselves on TV, is one of the greatest betrayals of our time. History will not remember this as a housing plan. It will remember it as a scam.