Turkana nomadic family on the move. PHOTO: Ng'esi Ayong'. |
Confronted with a
poor, largely illiterate nomadic population, there always pops up that
temptation to paint them with one brush, and to advance that faulty view about
pastoralists' inherent unwillingness to innovate, and to wholly blame them for
failure to adopt the mainstream economic thinking espoused by other supposedly
economically ‘superior’ Kenyans.
Though
unofficially proclaimed, this thinking shapes the day-to-day engagement between
pastoralists themselves, and between pastoralists and other people.
That pastoralist
communities in Kenya are materially and culturally endowed is beyond doubt. Why
this wealth has translated to little or zero improvement of living standards of
the said people is another issue altogether.
Figures from the
Kenya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS) paint a picture of a people
struggling to surmount the twin challenges of harsh climatic conditions of
their localities, and (national) policy disconnect and inbuilt indifference on
the side of those mandated to provide public solutions whenever public
challenges are pointed out.
It is still
common to hear of higher infant mortality rates in pastoral
lands. Schooling is in a sorry state.
But herein lies a
fundamental point. Harsh climatic conditions of Kenya's pastoralist-dominated
regions are not to blame. Many other countries across the world are no better
than northern Kenya but have lots of positive points to display thanks to their
leaders' ingenuity.
Botswana, with
its elaborate rangeland livestock farming easily comes to mind. Even unstable
Somalia pockets huge gains from livestock rearing!
This headache of
pastoralists' underdevelopment emanates from poor information
dissemination.
Admitting that we
are faced with unfriendly climate that hinders large-scale livestock
farming is one factor. Taming this climate is yet another factor. In
between them rests one solid question: how committed is Kenya's officialdom to
provide lasting solutions?
First things
first. Pastoralism as a key economic activity of a significant proportion of
Kenyans rarely features among the top priority items in Kenya public policy
discourse. Tragically, whenever it appears it is either as a result of public
outcry or due to a severe drought scenario that attracted external actors (in
most cases deep-pocketed NGOs).
In all these
cases, the government joins the fray to save face and never to robustly combat
the issue at hand.
Examples abound.
Mention any drought incident in Kenya and you will hear of
livestock off-take programs. The real beneficiaries of these programs
have never been and will never be livestock keepers. The whole process is
beyond their control. On one hand they face an unforgiving terrain decimating
their animal wealth, and on the other, an elaborate scheme of profiteers who
see coins out of tears of herders.
That this team of
opportunists remains unchallenged is not only a testament of betrayal of the
people by their own government but a clear indication that it will not take
long before the people rise up to demand action.
As far as I know,
no clear drought mitigation blueprint exists. And if it does, it is domiciled
somewhere in government shelves.
This is probably
a culmination of self-inflicted ignorance on the side of the governing elite -
and the people alike - that livestock sub-sector is just but an appendage of
Kenya's economy. That Kenya's economy is firmly anchored in cash crop
production and tourism.
If the 2009
national census is anything to go by, then, there is an urgent need to
reactivate our minds. Take the case of Turkana County. The county has its
livestock population standing at about 10 million. It has no designated animal
disease-free zones. Veterinary officers are nowhere to be seen.
Outreach programs
only materialize as a reactive measure to inflict more pain on the already
suffering livestock farmers. Like some years back, there was a blanket ban on
sell and/or transportation of livestock and livestock products outside Turkana
County ostensibly to curb spread of animal diseases. Prior to this, no
proactive measures were deployed to keep these diseases at bay.
One is then left
to wonder if authorities’ inaction is another tool to control pastoralism
and/or to systematically downscale its benefits. On this one, I choose to stand
with the people.
As if to
underline this sad state of affairs, Kenya has a fully-fledged state
corporation mandated to produce, preserve and conserve animal genetic
material (semen embryo, tissues and live animals) and rear breeding bulls for
provision of high quality disease free semen to meet the national demand and
for export.
All these sweet pronouncements
notwithstanding, the Nairobi-based Kenya Animal Genetic Resources Center
(KAGRC), has for all its seventy-years of existence seen no reason to
decentralize its services.
Should pastoralists trek up to Nairobi in
order to enjoy the services of this taxpayer-funded body? How many other public
bodies are withholding their services from the people?
It is foolhardy to run around praise-singing
about how modernized our economy is, yet – information – a vital component of
growth continues to be doled around at the mercies of those holding it.
Kenya has no choice but to share its loads of
information with pastoralists in a manner that best suits their demands.
Until this is done, uplifting pastoralists
will just remain a pipe dream – but with grave consequences.
Twitter: @mlemukol.