Thousands of years after the world’s most iconic buildings went up in Egypt, a new kind of megaproject is being built about 65 km outside the ancient capital of Cairo. The New Administrative Capital, as it’s tentatively known, has been under construction since 2015 and has already seen thousands of new residents move in after the first phase of construction was completed in 2023. But behind its glimmering, idyllic tree-lined streets and super-tall buildings, the rumbling of local and international disapproval can be heard.
A quick internet search for “Egypt New Administrative Capital” yields several clues as to the nature of this disapproval. “Why Egypt Can’t Afford Its $58B New Capital City,” reads the headline of a Wall Street Journal video on YouTube. “Why Egypt’s New Capital Is Bankrupting The Country” screams another video headline. “Sisi City: The new capital that could bankrupt Egypt,” screams another. Across many news and opinion spaces in the public domain, the apparent consensus is that the NAC is a hideously expensive vanity project conceived by Egyptian President Abdel Fattah El-Sisi as a visual prop for his government.
Many contend that it should never have been built and that the money should have been spent on improving Cairo’s creaking infrastructure. Is there something commentators could learn from another African city 7,600km southwest of Cairo?
Kilamba – An interesting modern parallel
Back in 2012, there was a similar flurry of feature articles and documentary-style YouTube videos informing readers and viewers about the strange, dystopian world of a ‘Chinese-built ghost city in Africa’. This large, expensive and entirely empty city, according to these narratives, was proof of the disastrous failure of China’s overseas investment and influence-peddling strategy. If you search for “Chinese ghost city in Africa” on Google or YouTube, you might still come across some of these articles and videos, written or spoken in a way that betrays barely concealed glee at the absurd spectacle.
This “ghost city” was none other than Kilamba, a gigantic planned city in Angola, 30 km from Luanda. Built by the China International Trust and Investment Corporation for $3.5 billion, financed by a credit line secured on Angolan oil production, this project had all the experts wagging their fingers in disapproval or doubled over in laughter when it opened in July 2012 and remained empty. What a ridiculous white elephant! A planned, large-scale, urban high-rise development in Africa targeted at middle-class African professionals? Who and where did the Angolans think they were? And what about the Chinese who enabled such a flight of fancy by these delusional Africans who didn’t know their place in the world?
Before the final coat of paint on Kilamba’s last units had dried, the whole project lay in narrative ruins around the world, condemned by all and sundry as the regrettable result of lax Chinese credit controls, excess Chinese construction capacity, and a silly African government drunk on oil revenues. Certainly, at an initial price of $125,000 for the smallest units at Kilamba, it seemed to be targeted at no one in particular, and it remained largely empty for the first few months after its grand opening. This was widely reported around the world and accepted as an inevitable fact – one that persists in the public imagination to this day, more than 12 years later.
What happened next, however, went almost entirely unreported. In 2013, a decision was made to reduce unit prices from $125,000 to $70,000, leading to a dramatic surge in demand. By 2019, Kilamba was almost fully occupied, and today it remains a desirable residential destination for aspiring middle-class Angolans. In other words, far from being a wasteful white elephant monstrosity, Kilamba turned out to be one of the greatest success stories of social housing and managed urban expansion in modern African history.
African governments are allowed to be ambitious
While the success of Kilamba does not necessarily mean that Egypt’s NAC will fare the same, there are some interesting parallels to be drawn from the Angolan experience. The first is that at no point in post-colonial African history has any bold construction initiative, project or plan been met with anything other than cold pessimism, constant misgivings, and open mockery. The general idea is that African governments are not meant to be ambitious and that Africa – for whatever reason – is not meant to display the same audacity that is seen everywhere else.
In fact, even where the successes of such audacious projects have to be grudgingly acknowledged, attempts are made to downplay or discredit their success. In the case of Kilamba, it was later criticised for failing to yield a financial profit for the government, despite being by far the largest social infrastructure project in the country’s history. In other words, based on an arbitrary set of rules and standards, the measure of the success of a state housing development was not the number of takers, but whether or not the government made money from it.
Similarly, the NAC may turn out to be one of the most successful and defining infrastructure projects in 21st century Africa, but it is unlikely to ever receive the credit it deserves if it does. Apparently, depending on where the building takes place, providing access to housing, health, education, and transport infrastructure is less important than balancing a 12-month budget.
Ultimately, when faced with such an intractable double standard in the global media space, there is only so much that even the Egypt of antiquity could have done.
