Integrity in public services calls for more than tests, declarations

EACC Chairperson David Oginde and CEO Abdi Mohamud at a past function at the EACC Headquarters, Nairobi. [File, Standard]

Kenya’s 2010 Constitution raised the bar on leadership and integrity. Chapter Six is clear, that public office is a public trust. Yet years on, the evidence remains sobering.

 In its 2024/2025 report, the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission recorded 166 random and targeted integrity tests across revenue offices, police stations, land registries, hospitals and county governments. 152 public institutions failed. Only four passed. Ten results were inconclusive. These were real-life scenarios designed to test whether an officer would demand or accept a bribe when no supervisor was watching.

The numbers should disturb us. They confirm what many Kenyans already know from daily experience, that formal systems alone do not guarantee personal integrity. Wealth declarations, lifestyle audits and codes of conduct are necessary, but they are mechanical. The most damaging conversations often take place away from official desks; on golf courses, in private clubs, over dinner, or in quiet WhatsApp groups where kickbacks are negotiated and public resources quietly redirected. When integrity fails in private spaces, institutions grind toward poor service delivery and corruption finds room to fester.

So the deeper question is not simply how to catch more officers. It is how to enculturate integrity; how to make ethical conduct the default expectation rather than an occasional performance for auditors. What would that require?

First, we must treat integrity as a continuous practice, not a periodic check. The high failure rate in EACC tests shows that many officers in public institutions still calculate the odds of being caught rather than internalising the principle.

Random, well-designed integrity testing should continue and expand, especially in high-risk service points. But testing alone is diagnostic.

Culture change demands consistent reinforcement with clear consequences that are applied evenly, regardless of rank or political connection, and visible recognition for those who refuse the shortcut. When the public sees both failure punished and integrity rewarded, norms begin to shift.

Second, private-space opacity cannot be ignored. Yet the answer is not unrestricted covert surveillance of every senior official’s social calendar. Privacy is a constitutional right, and blanket personal audits would invite abuse and legal challenge.

A more sustainable path lies in strengthening the tools already available, including intelligence-led investigations triggered by credible tips or financial red flags, robust lifestyle audits backed by better data-sharing across agencies, and genuine protection for whistle-blowers who report solicitations that occur off-site. When the financial trail is followed rigorously, informal deals become harder to conceal.

Third, recruitment and socialisation matter more than we admit. Integrity is harder to install after appointment than to select for at entry. Public institutions should deepen integrity verification, verify academic and professional credentials rigorously, and use scenario-based assessments during hiring and promotion.

Once inside, officers need repeated, practical training, not one-day seminars that confronts the real pressures they face; low relative pay in some cadres, political interference, and the social expectation that “everyone does it.” Mentorship by officers with proven records can help transmit norms more effectively than circulars.

Fourth, leadership sets the tone. When top officials schedule private meetings that exclude transparency or treat public office as a personal franchise, the signal travels downward. Enculturation requires leaders who model restraint in both public and private spheres, who disclose conflicts promptly, and who refuse the informal networks that normalise rent-seeking. The same standard must apply across the political and administrative divide. Selective enforcement destroys credibility faster than any single scandal.

Finally, citizens are not spectators. A culture of integrity cannot be imposed solely from above. When communities, professional associations, religious bodies and the media consistently demand clean service and refuse to participate in petty bribery, the social cost of corruption rises. Public education that moves beyond slogans to practical discussion of everyday ethical dilemmas can help. Schools and universities already host integrity clubs; these efforts deserve sustained support so that the next generation internalises the value before entering public service.

None of this is easy since resource constraints, political interference and public cynicism remain real obstacles. Yet the alternative, namely, continued reliance mainly on declarations and occasional audits while private deals flourish, has already shown its limits. Institutional integrity begins with personal integrity. When the latter fails at scale, the former cannot hold.

The 152 failures out of 166 tests are not merely statistics, they are a mirror. The question now is whether we will keep polishing the mirror or begin the harder work of changing what it reflects. Enculturating integrity will not happen through one new programme or one more law. It will happen when refusal becomes ordinary, when the private conversation carries the same ethical weight as the public one, and when Kenyans at every level decide that the cost of compromise is simply too high.