This is why I refuse to preach against pastoralism

That nomadic pastoralism must be discarded and in its place be planted a new mode of life is an undertaking that should not just be condemned, but its proponents ought to be schooled about the benefits of appreciating the uniqueness of others. There is a big reason why I refuse to be part of this anti-pastoralism group. Pastoralism is as fruitful as any other noble socio-economic venture. The main challenge facing pastoralists is this: little has been done to squeeze juice out of this age-old practice. 

Interventions have tended to focus on blaming nomads and their surroundings instead of injecting life to the many opportunities that accompany livestock keeping. From the look of things, this trajectory could be as a result of self-inflicted knowledge-gaps plus a dose of dangerous paternalism shaping development partnering in pastoral lands. The average livestock herder out there has been pushed to the peripheries; reduced to a figure that receives orders from supposedly knowledgeable people. His/her voice counts no more.

In Pastoralism pays: new evidence from the Horn of Africa , a study conducted by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED), the under-exploitation of extensive pastoral production systems derives its roots from outside forces - from authorities and development partners. The study outlines that "[...] the true value of pastoral systems is largely overlooked. Camel milk, goat meat, draught power and other goods and services provide subsistence products and household income; they also create employment, income opportunities and access to credit along their ‘value chains’. Pastoral products contribute significant revenues to public authorities and support the provision of basic services in rural towns; with support, this productivity could grow."

Of great significance to us is the fact the demand for high quality meat and milk outcompetes supply in many urban setups in Kenya. This is not to give credence to the theory that pastoralists are incapable of bridging this supply gap. It is simply a testament of how poor policies have impacted on pastoral production systems. Our people have become victims of officialdoms that see answers to everything pastoral through the lenses of modernization. Our people are advised to "modernize" their practices by people who can hardly explain the import and the rational of this modernization euphoria.

The same study suggests that institutionalized data collection systems in Kenya still do not capture the full value of pastoralism hence leading to a headless planning regime and misdirection in budgeting processes. It is possibly due to this 'data drought' that a number of organizations operating in pastoral lands find refuge in 'trial and error' budgeting method. And when things go haywire, the hapless cattle breeder in the plains of Turkana, Samburu and Isiolo is left to carry the cross alone.

We must change this once and for all. I see no reason why Kenya's meat and milk demand should not be met by Kenya's pastoralists. And to arrive at this point we must ask some bitter questions. Who benefits when people shift from pastoral systems to other modes of subsistence? Who controls the marketing channels and livestock price fluctuations? Why haven't pastoralists conquered the chains of poverty yet they possess immense livestock wealth? Could some entities be pocketing huge gains from this state of confusion?

Three findings come in handy. Livestock production thrives not in raw dependence on quantities. The trick is in building up competitive qualities. Pastoralists badly need huge doses of vital, contextualized information. They want this information near them. 

Two, an all-inclusive review of the value of pastoral production systems is needed to put paid the urgency of adopting intelligent investment. It adds no value for an overstretched herder to ship his goats to a far-flung market only to realize that no one needs his goats. 

Three, pastoralism as a socio-economic orientation is a human rights issue. It boils down to the very foundation of all human beings - the need to be respected and not to be coerced, in any way, to adopt what one does not voluntarily subscribe to.

I stand with pastoralism. I support those who practice it.

Lemukol Ng'asike is an architect. Twitter:  @mlemukol.  

There is bloodbath up north because schools are inexistent

Kootoro primary school, Turkana. Photo courtesy of Lotiki Thomas

Is "sedentarization" - forced or voluntary - the only way to respond to demands by nomads? Where, and when did we bury our creativity? Why haven’t we moved further to understand why illiteracy rules pastoral lands?

The above questions are inescapable as long as policies, actions, and/or interventions geared towards uplifting Kenya's nomadic people's living standards, and fostering peaceful coexistence among them remain skewed, and ill-informed of their local cultural dynamics and the uniqueness of the territories they inhabit.

The efforts of nomadic communities to preserve their cultural identity should not just be appreciated by all conscious beings but should also form the basis of our interaction with these communities. That they still wallow in material poverty and endless inter-community squabbles despite their immense cultural wealth should worry all of us.

We are morally obliged to look into this disconnect with a view to seeking ways of reversing it.

Promoting nomadic education in Kenya is a hard a story to sell to a Nairobi-based bureaucrat who has had no privilege of interacting with nomads, and appreciating the sensitivities that dot their daily lives. Paradoxically, it takes signatures of this kind of officials for nomadic education to see the light of the day. So whether we like it or not, confronting these folks is inevitable.

The punishing illiteracy among Kenya's nomads is a case study on how peace and development are dependent on education. It would be foolhardy to isolate poor penetration of formal schooling among communities from northern Kenya when reviewing the state of peace and the general welfare of the people. 

It is simple: there is bloodbath up north because there is hardly a school, a teacher, a pen and a book for its inhabitants.

The reasons behind this trend are many. One, the belief that schooling is only a dose to be dispensed to "settled" people. In other words, nomads will enjoy this "privilege" only if they settle down permanently. Two, cost implications. It is just too heavy a task to oversee mass construction of schools across this vast region and ensuring kids’ continued stay at school. Three, political blow-backs that view education as a means of alienating the populace from the path of absolute respect of local political establishments. In short, tyranny of status quo hampering education evangelism. Sad story. Four, zero creativity, zero innovation, hence zero progress.

When we talk about illiteracy hampering peace and development in pastoral lands, we talk about how everybody - the young and the old - are left out in this education promotion thing. We talk about a one-sided intervention that is yet to decipher the truism that even senior members of these targeted communities are also thirsty of knowledge. That fighting illiteracy is not just a matter of erecting structures to be used by school-going children only, but a need to put paid a component where adults can be educated.

Look, my lamentations here are informed by numbers from the government of Kenya. The 2009 national census put the number of illiterate folks in Turkana County at more than 70% of its entire population. The story is more or less the same in other nomads-dominated counties, namely, Samburu, Marsabit, West Pokot, Wajir, Garissa, Mandera and Tana River.

Which brings me to my core questions: why do we focus only on children? What makes us believe that by following this route we will overcome the huddles brought up by illiteracy?

No, I do not push for exclusion of children. I only advocate for 100% inclusion. I only push for a dual system. A system where children profit during the day, and adults get their lessons in the evenings. I only push for a system that is tailor-made to respond to the uniqueness of nomadic life. 

One more point. Adults do not just want to know how to read and write. They want skills to be drivers of their destinies. They want to be their own employers. And so? Open the frontiers of these people. Make them be the persons in their dreams. Allow them to interact with their successful peers from other regions. And by doing so, education will take root. The people themselves will lead this crusade.

Final thoughts: you promote peace up north not by distributing guns and bullets but by knowing what matters to the people - evangelism of progress to all.

Go thee and share this message with Kenyan pastoral nomads.

Lemukol Ng'asike is an architect. Twitter:  @mlemukol.  

Inside Turkana politics: where poverty oils elite's greed

Kenya's only oil county is under siege. It is currently confronting enemies from two fronts. One, from the hellish poverty that is synonymous with the region and two, from stone-age-leaning political networks that find solace in poverty promotion, and not poverty reduction.

The existence of a symbiotic relationship between the two is common knowledge.  We know, and everyone must know that politicians from Turkana have – for the last fifty years – used poverty as the springboard of their political ambitions. Paradoxically, this anti-poverty declarations have hardly been implemented. Still, out of this marriage comes a deadly politico-elitist enterprise whose philosophy is, bluntly speaking, "to profit as long as the poor live".

Objectification of the people and escapism as regards to war on poverty will eternally epitomize the aforementioned enterprise. There is just too much talk and finger-pointing than real work going on in this land of oil and water. An unprecedented generation of deal makers is alive. Self-aggrandizement, they believe, is what stands for leadership credentials. Result? People-centered initiatives have lost momentum.

That a group of leaders claiming to be the authentic voice of the people can turn around and defile the collective will of the populace demonstrates why underdevelopment is here to stay. What we see in Turkana is a case of unchallenged hypocrisy. Surely, it adds no value for people purporting to be leaders to dance with hungry, desperate villagers in a show of solidarity while they negate all interventions geared towards uplifting these same people.

It is paramount to reiterate it here; I firmly believe that it is what happens before and after any 'solidarity dance' that matters to these villagers. Not smiles that mask the real intentions of the leaders’ presence, that is, using people’s pain to catapult personal missions.

Nothing exemplifies this perfectly than what is spewed by an anti-Turkana county government brigade comprised of political incumbents who have outlived their usefulness, and have zero footprints to show for their long years in Kenya's legislative corridors. Of course their record of plunder and destruction is unrivaled. This group has assumed the job of branding Kenyans living in Turkana as "pure" and "not pure". The whole import of this charade is to advance a protectionist rhetoric that projects some individuals as "ineligible" to vie for any political seat in the county.

No doubt, lectures on Kenya's constitutional guarantees ought to be advanced to these folks.

But before that is effected, some questions are inescapable: Is this how desperation for political relevance can transform supposedly clever, mature people into noisemakers boiling in rage veiled as defense of public good? Or should we - the people - rejoice for witnessing a tectonic shift in how we judge and grade our leaders?

The truth of the matter is: Turkana's downfall is 90% linked to a greedy home-grown squad whose tentacles control not only the many NGOs crisscrossing the region but also government offices. This crazy wealth-accumulation frenzy is inspired by the need to "buy" voters to secure elective positions. Call it a case of stealing from the people and using the ill-gotten monies to buy them.

But here comes a curious development. I have learnt that following 2013 Kenya's shift to devolution and its outpouring of development billions, most of these hitherto powerful individuals "discovered" that all their traditional pots have dried up. There is nothing with which to buy public sympathy. And with this political nothingness comes a new mantra. That of disrupting, badmouthing, and making it humanely impossible for the county government of Turkana to work. 

At the core of this undertaking is one thing. That any success rate on the side of the county government means poverty reduction on the side of the population, which in turn translates to political death for those who, for many eons, banked on hollow distributionist calculations to hoodwink the people. Looks like these wonks have realized that the era of relief food politics is coming to an end.

I confer no positive scores to these political busy bodies. Wananchi’s empowerment is unstoppable. Mental and material slavery must be demolished and in its place (be) erected a monument of hope - one that cherishes the centrality of the people, their aspirations and the need to materialize them.

This is why Turkana County must remove its deadly tumor: its leaders’ love for poverty, and their hate for anti-poverty interventions. Nothing else!

Lemukol Ng’asike is an architect. Twitter: @mlemukol. 

We shall build sanitary pad factories in Lodwar...

There are many opportunities out there. Equally, there are many setbacks. We are where we are because we have intentionally refused to do the basics. We look further to look for answers for homegrown problems yet our rural hamlets are flowing with talents and unexploited energies. We are blinded by a certain strain of lethal paternalism. We are our own enemies.

Our girls drop out of schools because they lack sanitary towels. As a result, this has negatively impacted on their general literacy ranking, and by extension, on the social and economic growth of women. On the social front, we have ended up creating a group that feels undermined, and with no say; one that lives in pain for being born "different". 

I have heard many stories of school girls who get trapped by sex predators because they (girls) wanted cash to purchase sanitary towels and other necessities. This problem is real. They end up getting impregnated hence giving rise to another generation of poor, vulnerable people. On top of this rests that ever-present risk of contracting sexually transmitted infections.

Media reports show that currently sanitary pads usage in Kenya stands at 35%. This means that many Kenyan women either can hardly afford this necessity or have no clue about it. Still, they could be using other life-threatening means to keep this monthly thing under control.

Other sources indicate that about 50% of girls living in Kenyan slums engage in transactional sex so as to get money for sanitary pads. Others stay away from school, visiting friends or even talking to their close relations to avoid embarrassment from bloodstained clothes. 

The Kenya government sanitary towels provision program, though noble, is too little an effort to meet the needs of all Kenya's girls and women. While the government could be willing to do more, the huge amount of resources needed to materialize this, is out of its reach. The truth of the matter is, the state is unable to fully intervene.

But looking at the level of organization, and pragmatism espoused by Kenya's women makes me optimistic. They make me believe that we - the people - can actually do this sanitary thing on our own and allow the State to focus on other urgent national needs. 

Now, couple this pragmatism with the material poverty tormenting our people and you get an urgent need to empower these focused women. Readings on community empowerment, and anti-poverty experiments tell us that real progress pops up when people - the target groups - buy the idea destined to benefit them and become its co-implementers. This is contrary to the workings of a majority of our government agencies and their non-governmental partners.

Despite their elevated status most of the people managing these agencies still cling to the philosophy of 'give-and-never-train'. Evidently, these chaps abhor thinking hard. I am dead sure if they did, they would embark on mass training of people. They would pick that long route of educating and uplifting, and not the shorter one tinged with distribution-ism and short-term praise-singing.

By holistically responding to this sanitary problem, we will end up uplifting many families, and in turn kick poverty out of our borders. 

This is what I propose: tap into existing women groups, train their members, provide them with sewing machines and seed money, bring in cooperative gurus to share their knowledge on savings and group investments, link these women with school committees, and voila you will have a super machine that will supply those sanitary towels at village-friendly prices.

For starters, a look into Kenya's poverty ranking will prove helpful. 

What if we roll out this plan in northern frontier counties? Lodwar, Kapenguria, Marsabit, Isiolo, Maralal, Wajir, Garissa, Mandera towns..., (in my estimation) have more sanitary-towel-less women than any other place in Kenya. 

There is no reason for this condition to persist. We have all the tools to make things work.

Lemukol Ng'asike is an architect. Twitter:  @mlemukol.