The roar of excavators has replaced the morning hustle along Thika Superhighway. In a ruthless dawn operation, the Kenya National Highways Authority (KeNHA) has begun demolishing structures on road reserves, igniting fierce protests and turning Githurai into a battleground.

What was meant to be a reclaiming of public land quickly descended into chaos. Traders, watching their livelihoods reduced to rubble, clashed with police officers deployed to secure the demolition squads. Tires burned on the highway, sending plumes of black smoke into the sky and bringing traffic on one of Nairobi’s busiest arteries to a standstill. The message from the state is clear: infrastructure development will proceed, regardless of the immediate human cost.

Seven Days to Zero

The operation follows the expiry of a seven-day notice issued to traders in Githurai and Roysambu. KeNHA argues that the structures—mostly informal stalls and kiosks—are encroaching on land designated for new bus bays intended to decongest the highway. However, the traders claim the notice was insufficient and that no relocation plan was offered.

The scene on the ground was volatile:

• Police Intervention: Anti-riot police were forced to fire tear gas to disperse angry crowds attempting to block the excavators. The air was thick with tension and chemical smoke.
• Economic Fallout: "This is where I feed my children from," screamed one trader, held back by officers. The demolition targets thousands of informal businesses that service the high-density residential areas along the highway.
• Traffic Paralysis: Motorists were left stranded for hours as the skirmishes spilled onto the main carriageway, forcing some to seek alternative routes through the estates.

Development vs. Survival

This demolition highlights the eternal conflict in Kenya’s urban planning: the clash between orderly infrastructure and the chaotic reality of the informal economy. While KeNHA insists the bus bays are necessary for safety and efficiency, rights groups argue that such evictions without compensation or alternatives are inhumane.

As the dust settles, the road reserve is clear, but the anger remains. The government has reclaimed its land, but it may have lost the trust of the very people the road is meant to serve. For the traders of Githurai, tonight is a night of uncertainty, staring at the ruins of what used to be their businesses.