In Lodwar, foolishness is lucrative: unpacking ‘Munyes article’

From the standpoint of somebody who writes frequently about the daily life experiences in the northern segment of Kenya, and in addition, someone who is barraged with reactions (and sometimes not-so-good-demands) from the so-called northern Kenya elite, it behooves to note that there exists a humongous monster in the minds of those with the power to read. Well, let’s call it “mental ring-fencing”.

“Mental ring-fencing” emanates from a self-imposed inability to separate [political] support from critical thinking; and support for people in power from support for the general public. In short, this monster has decapitated Kenya’s supposedly enlightened elite.

As a result, the near impossibility for our schooled but less-informed individuals to prove themselves as “anchor-individuals” to whom the society should run to for direction has transformed going to school to an escapade in search of papers, not knowledge.

I will explain why I think this hardline stand is appropriate. The fact that we have a couple of upright individuals out there ought not cloud our move to point out the inefficiencies of many.

On February Tuesday 16, I wrote a political commentary headlined: “Senator John Munyes should retire! Period” ( http://lemukolwords.blogspot.com/2016/02/senator-john-munyes-should-retire-period.html ). In it, I pointed out the heavy task awaiting leaders in places like Turkana owing to the fact that such places lag behind development-wise. I stressed on the importance to move beyond laisser-faire politics to politics that matter to the men and women in our hamlets. Again, I underlined why it is sensible for the good senator to consciously reflect and if possible, retire.

In my mind, my efforts to delve into this domain was to prick Turkana voters’ minds through their educated sons and daughters, and who happen to also enjoy the trappings of internet connectivity, to take an honest reflection on what the future of Turkana County portends.

But it seems I was wrong. I mistook being schooled for being educated. I thought these chaps were truly educated and could act as a meaningful bridge between the public and their collective aspirations.

They narrowed down my message to one line: ‘That Lemukol has endorsed Governor Nanok and he is now badmouthing his (Nanok’s) potential opponents.’

I stand not on anyone’s right to think and express his/her opinion. But some little effort to self-cross-examine will keep embarrassment at bay.

In my article, I boldly stated that: “To those who may be tempted to think that this write-up seeks to catapult the names of some characters, I have something special to tell you: I reject to be pigeonholed. I refuse to swallow that lie that county positions ‘should be shared’. To go that route is to devolve a dangerous dose of elitism.”

In simple terms, I said “I do not endorse anybody.” Neither does it mean I want to frustrate people who may wish to challenge Governor Nanok in next year’s election. Senator Munyes included.

My position was and is and will be: “people must make informed decisions. Failure to do so will have catastrophic results to all of us.”

Given Turkana’s historical background, I am convinced that the real challenge rests untouched. S/he who knows, and can inform others stands a chance to impact many. Parallel to this, s/he who has the opportunity to know but decides not to profit from it deserves condemnation. S/he who wishes to know but has no tools with which to get informed deserves no condemnation for making wrong decisions.

This is why I have difficulties walking on the same path with people who think gullible villagers who overwhelmingly elect a crook are “foolish”. I am yet to understand on which premise they base this kind of foolishness. In my view, these “foolish” villagers are not really foolish. They simply suffer from information deprivation.

Yet it remains eternally clear that not to suffer from information deprivation entails positive deployment of such information for the betterment of oneself and the general public. Political information is no different.

But is this the case all the time? I would say no. And Lodwar comes to mind.

Lodwar is by all respects Turkana’s Canaan. It is the region’s premier town. It enjoys almost all information inlets. It houses all symbols of power. A significant proportion of its population is reportedly schooled. (I presume they also read and READ). So, for me Lodwar is both real and symbolic. Its symbolism cascades from merely housing government offices to the performance of Turkana’s elite from as far afield as Kibish in the north to Kainuk in the south.

So when I see schooled individuals who are not educated, I see lucrative foolishness. I see people who erroneously believe standing intellectually upright will lead to their economic death. So they better be slaves – albeit their knowledge of dangers of the same!

A university graduate who deactivates his mind and bids his support for coins is foolish and should know that. Collective progress does not flow from this narrow perspective.

It is for this reason that Lodwar – real and symbolic – must discard its destructive weight.

Twitter: @mlemukol

Senator John Munyes should retire! Period

Succession politics – especially at local/county level – is a topic I have tried to run away from. Perhaps due to my upbringing and the contents I gathered from my old man (may he rest well),  I have always felt that my home county Turkana deserves something better than mere politicking – you know it, that Kenyan habit that is founded on hollow, endless, directionless chatter.  

Consequently, virtually every writing and reading expedition I make has, to a greater extent, been influenced by the question: "How does what you do impact on lives of peasants in the hamlets of Turkana County?" So in short, the trajectory of that resilient, ill-informed desert herder in Turkana has been my guiding star.

But here comes an intriguing scenario which, though politically-inclined, must not escape my attention. It is about a story of two bulls seeking to flex their muscles, and the uncertainties that may come with Kenya’s 2017 [Turkana gubernatorial] elections.

On the right is Josphat Nanok, the current Turkana County Governor while on the opposite end stands Senator John Munyes.

I hear both have deep pockets. But that is not what matters here. The sticking point arises from their track record and their intellectual inclination vis-à-vis the fate of post-devolution Turkana.

From the standpoint of a development-conscious individual, my grading style is informed by the inventiveness of those men and women we call leaders. That is, how far out-of-the-box can a leader go to provide answers to his/her electorates?

This is why. Leaders have lambasted some invisible forces from Nairobi for [socio-economically] “forgetting” the north. They say northern Kenya would have been another Garden of Eden had its residents not been victims of marginalization. They could be right. Majority of us have swallowed their rants as the only gospel truth. Then, to prove our loyalty, we have repeatedly elected them.

Yet, many moons have gone by and the situation remains practically the same. To spice it up, many of us seem to accept that faulty thinking that it is disrespectful to confront a leader with touchy questions. That leaders are infallible and are only equal to God. Total nonsense!

And here comes that not-so-sweet question that exists not in most of our leaders’ trays: would this so-called marginalization have materialized had the region got leaders with brains and spine?

It may sound mundane to repose this question now because those devolution billions pouring into the region have led most of us to conclude that “marginalization has been sorted out by devolution – once and for all.”

Yes and no. Yes, because no wo/man worth his/her moral makeup can now fail to shoulder the blame for not providing citizens with water, good roads, health care, et al.

No, because there exists another form of marginalization that must be uprooted for progress to take root. It is called, crowning people with zero oomph; people who stumble and crumble every time they face the question: “what have your many years in the corridors of power bequeathed to your followers?”

Back to our two bulls’ story. Senator John Munyes wants to become Governor John Munyes. I have read what his entourage scribbles. Their key word, again I gather, is “change”. They promise heavenly change should the mantle fall in their court.

To this far, 2017 will definitely turn out to be an epochal year; a moment where this “change” will solidly be subjected to its real test. But I feel I can’t wait. My pen can’t simply stick up till next year.

And here are my questions to the good Senator:

Having been a government minister, and as a result, an influential figure and someone to whom the peasants of Turkana looked up to as a development “tree shaker”, how far out-of-the-box did he go to cut Turkana’s over-reliance on relief food?

As a minister in the Water, Labour and Special Programs ministries, it comes out clearly that President Mwai Kibaki’s government agenda for Turkana was well read out but poorly assimilated. What justification will the Senator give for the perennial thirst and hopelessness experienced by a majority of residents in Turkana prior to devolution?

Do the people of Turkana have anything to take home for his continued silence in the Senate?

To those who may be tempted to think that this write-up seeks to catapult the names of some characters, I have something special to tell you: I reject to be pigeonholed. I refuse to swallow that lie that county positions “should be shared”. To go that route is to devolve a dangerous dose of elitism.

People whose public track record point to the direction of failure need to be told the truth. They must retire. Simple and clear.

In my view, Senator John Kiyong’a Munyes is NOT the right counter-weight to Governor Josphat Koli Nanok. You can take this to your bank – free of charge!

Twitter: @mlemukol.

Hellish Kitale-Lodwar road and the pain of social imbalance

A section of Kitale-Lodwar road. Courtesy: Twitter

Thirteen years may have passed but their resolve to rewrite their history has never faded.  The incident happened sometime in April, 2003. The set-up was in Kainuk town, Turkana County.

That morning, Kainuk residents – powered by an unbreakable chain of widows and orphans – took to the streets. With them were two grievances: the menace brought by bandit bullets and the pain of depending on an impassable Kitale-Lodwar road.

Well, to cut the long story short, anyone familiar with the happenings in Turkana will confirm to you that the only road joining the region to the rest of Kenya degrades the very essence of Kenya’s sovereignty. Kitale-Lodwar road is not even ideal for camel caravans. Currently, it only supports a lethal cabal of crooks who live off the back of road-users plying that route.

With this comes unpleasant news. Only the brave can shoulder the weight of transporting merchandise to Turkana. As a result, only those with heavy pockets can purchase. Of course, there is that social reasoning the creeps in. In Turkana, you get an imbalanced society composed of a tiny minority enjoying the fruits of “living in Kenya”, and the rest of us with gloomy faces.

Believe you me, this is the mother of all causes of poverty in Turkana.

While this scenario hardly popped up as a “real” issue that deserved public attention some years ago, devolution has brought home some hitherto Nairobi-based elite largess that now push villagers to reframe their collective questions.

One question that keeps coming up is why Turkana leaders choose not to travel by road. Here you get some scary facts. The number of flights plying Nairobi-Lodwar route keeps surging. Some Turkana top honchos now own private copters to facilitate their travels in and out of this rugged, locked county.

Parallel to these, the region can easily scoop a gold medal for hosting many of Kenya’s poorest people.

Now, you get the drift. This bad road has its victims and beneficiaries.

How a region swimming in endless pools of poverty can be attractive to an ever-increasing chain of airlines still baffles me. Something just doesn’t add up here.

I hear people saying that if leaders can hop from Nairobi’s Wilson Airport to Lodwar minus the headache that comes with swallowing tonnes of dust and dodging bandit bullets along Kitale-Lodwar road, what makes us – the invisible majority – (to) expect them to be vociferous proponents of public issues.

Here we are silently aiding the growth of a Kenya’s version of apartheid. It is simple. You need no technical knowhow to stomach the extent of social disequilibrium caused by bad roads in northern Kenya. We have a two-layered social edifice. Those whose fortunes have been grounded because they crawl. And those with catchy stories because they fly.

For those who may think my frustration is informed by some sort of we-versus-them spirits should just get this right. Guys, the “crawling” and the “flying” classes have lots of interlocking interests. And by the way, it is the “flying” class that may find it hard to live without the support of the “crawling” types.

This is how. The tonnes of meat rolling down your throats daily come from livestock farms of those “crawling” types. They feed you, albeit their rugged terrains!

The state of our not-so-politically-relevant communities epitomizes the callousness of our collective thinking. On this front, the Kenyan State is guilty as charged. It only raised its hand when some oily substance was spotted in Lokichar.

What remains to be seen is whether this change of heart will lessen the burden of the residents of Turkana in particular, and northern Kenya in general. All in all, I still find no reason not to cling on skepticism. Someone must build those northern Kenya roads.

Twitter: @mlemukol.

The missing Ngamia-1 oil dollars: which way forward?

An oil rig in Ngamia-1, Lokichar. Photo courtesy of Twitter.

On March 22, 2012 President Mwai Kibaki  announced what was (then) regarded as Kenya's best business news. He declared that Tullow Oil - a British oil firm - had discovered oil deposits in Ngamia-1; a rural outpost located within the Lokichar Basin of the Turkana County, Northwest Kenya.

On January 20, 2016 researchers from the University of Cambridge, in a study published in 'Nature' - an international journal of science - unearthed the existence of 10,000-year-old remains of 27 people in Nataruk, near the western shores of Lake Turkana. According to the researchers, this newfound proof may be the oldest evidence of warfare between humans; an aspect that further solidified Turkana’s position as the Cradle of Mankind.

In between these two landmark events rest many other developments that, evidently, have had tremendous impacts on Kenya, and Turkana in particular.

One, many places along the oil exploration corridors in Turkana have received an economic boost. Ever since the oil discovery, Turkana County has seen a population explosion with some areas recording an upward shift of about 500 percent.

Two, politically-speaking, Turkana – having endured many years of marginalization – secured its place as the destination to be and where government ought to reinvent its appearance from hitherto ceremonial nature to a people-to-people, development-oriented approach. Turkana ceased to be that cry baby that always needed motherly care from Nairobi’s officialdom.

Already, there is a plan to tarmac Kainuk – Lokichar – Lodwar – Lokichoggio road!

The third development, and drawing from my personal experience, the Turkana Oil discovery has ignited a new thinking towards Kenya’s northern frontier. The number of researches – doctoral or otherwise – centered on Turkana cements this assertion.

Even the way media – both local and international – covers the region has changed. Now it is more of economic potential, investments, profitable business destination and suchlike stories, and less of tribal fights and droughts.

But there is equally a bitter pill to swallow. And this necessitates a deeper reflection vis-à-vis new economic models hinged on the oil find but not principally anchored in it. That is, approaches that will ride on the positive outlook brought by the oil discovery as opposed to remaining attached to that old-school habit of queuing in readiness to receive oil dollars – in form of jobs or free goodies.

Drawing from the current global oil market instability, the diminishing oil price has had a direct effect on oil exploration globally, and Kenya in particular.

The Economist indicates that investments in oil exploration have seen a steady decline. Oil exploration companies have scaled down their operations with others adopting some radical measures like trimming down their workforce.

Nowhere is this real in Kenya than in Turkana County. I will tell you why.

A friend of mine who happened to have worked with Tullow Oil in Turkana as a casual worker intimated to me how life is “hard” right now. He recalls those good days when pockets were full of oil shillings and how easy it was for him and his colleagues to move around splashing cash without much ado.

Lokichar Township – Kenya’s premier oil town – saw an upsurge in beer joints.

Unfortunately, those noisy oil-inspired nouveaux-riches are no more. Ngamia-1 oil dollars have disappeared – without a trace. I hear authorities are worried these idle minds might find solace in not-so-good things like theft and other petty crimes.

But, one may ask, of what importance is it to revisit this Turkana oil issue knowing very well that its social damage, as pointed out above, seems irreversible? Or rather optimistically, how can this situation be salvaged? Is there any way out of this conundrum?

Many ideas come to mind. First, I believe Turkana, and by extension Kenya, has all it takes to build its economy away from oil dollars. I am of the view that the general populace can be made to believe that life can continue smoothly even minus oil jobs.

 

Vis-à-vis shifting our attention from this oil-dependency syndrome, my ideological position is planked on two pillars: first, the collective must feel part of the [oil] deal, and second, the upper classes in Turkana (politicians and all offshoots of elitism) must know that their survival is hinged on the survival of the collective.

I will illustrate the whole thing here.

Sometime in 2013, almost every person with power or connected to those with it talked about tenders. There was this shaky belief among the Turkana elite that the only way to be part of the “oil class” was through trading with the oil firms. Since this charade was mainly powered by politicos, it evolved to become a we-versus-them thing. Street demonstrations popped up from all corners with a clueless public on the frontline “defending their right to trade with oil firms”.

After much haggling and in-door talks and some barazas , the oil firms obliged. They decided to “trade with the public”. The so-called public was loaned vehicles with which to supply goods to the oil exploration sites.

Out of this pseudo-public-banked initiative came up the real faces of the beneficiaries. The general public got zero. Mistrust reigns up to now.

Hope that characterized the first days of the oil discovery dissipated. Everything positive associated with oil crumbled – almost at once!

Call it a case of mismanaged hope. For a county with layers and layers of cultural and anthropological heritage, one would expect the local leadership to project this as the main job creator.

Turkana Cultural Dancers showcasing their talent in  Lodwar . Photo courtesy.

Closely related to this, the unchecked transition of people from nomadism to unsupported sedentary lifestyle drives up poverty levels. It is simple: when nomads settle in towns (permanent settlements/villages), they are confronted with a new challenge. That of relying on skills, rather than livestock wealth for survival.

The nomad in Turkana lacks these skills because no one sees them as an integral element of social development. Everybody with power is preoccupied with tenders, jobs and self-aggrandizement.

So, mustn’t I be tempted to say that for a way forward to exist, and for the collective to be part of this oil game, Ngamia-1 errors must be erased?

Twitter: @mlemukol.