For many years, especially concerning the pivotal role played by non-governmental organizations in the northern parts of Kenya, development has generally been understood to mean outsiders’ benevolence, and the limitations imposed on local populations in relation to drawing any development map that best suits their aspirations and needs. The reasoning here is quite straight forward: he who controls the purse, controls power dynamics. NGO-pastoralists engagement is no different.
The above concern notwithstanding, the Roman Catholic Church, among many other non-state actors, has proven its place as the true friend of the people – in many instances even outshining government machinery and the many noisy political networks roaming this vast region.
While many of the region’s social projects including schools, health facilities, orphanages, adult literacy centers, etc. trace their roots to NGO funding, the fact of the matter remains clear: this definition of development has had a profound impact on communities’ socio-political standpoint. By having no direct say in their development, people’s psychological makeup got polluted thereby reducing them to mere subjects under the control of government bureaucrats, politicians and NGO personalities.
Again, thanks to this one-sided propagation of the concept of development, the people have ended up admitting and believing that faulty logic that “development belongs to leaders, and citizens get a slice of it because leaders ‘love’ them and not because citizens are entitled to development.”
The missing pillar here is what post-2010 constitutional Kenya baptized as ‘public participation’. Loosely understood as “having a direct consultation with the people to whom a public action and/or decision is destined to affect.” In other words, letting communities determine what they want.
The downside of all this is quite simple: the aforementioned communities, perhaps due to their nomadic mode of life, are considered ‘unschooled’ which in turn justifies the reason to bypass them when it comes to decision making – even on matters that touch their very existence. And by the way, this issue isn't just confined to the NGO sector alone. It cuts across the board. The government, too, is a major culprit.
As we approach an election season, will it be fair to blame members of these communities if they make not-so-good political choices yet the very golden chance of inducting them into the culture of political responsiveness was trampled upon by those we always considered enlightened and pro-democracy?
I understand banking on historical revisionism won’t pull us out of this hole. Commitment will.
But all is not gloomy – I believe. This is why. Demographics have changed. National legal architecture has changed – and with it comes very robust, far-reaching declarations. Of course, the average Kenyan nomad we know is no longer the same.
Let’s take the case of Turkana County. More than 50% of its population is under-18. The 2009 national census puts to light another interesting feature. You see, though the county is categorized as a ‘rural county’, a good number of its inhabitants are finding home in towns. Meaning, sedentary lifestyle is slowly replacing pastoral-nomadism. It will be simplistic to ignore the fundamental effect of climate change as a major factor obliging nomads to reconsider their mode of subsistence.
What really ought to preoccupy our minds is not the cosmetic value attached to this social change but the need to confront the reality of these populations transiting to towns and to ask ourselves if these ex-nomads have all the tools they need to cope up with their new adaptation – in their new surroundings.
But to arrive at this important point, redefining ‘nomadism as a resource’ vis-à-vis NGO/(county) government(s) role will be of great help. I tend to think that there is something extra-ordinary in relation to nomadism as a whole. I consider nomadism not just as a means to escape the vagaries of a hostile landscape. I am of the view that nomadism is a cultural component of a people, a community, a nation… and which can be capitalized and preserved for the betterment of its ‘owners’. It is simply a civilization that will become extinct should there be no attempts at preserving its roots.
The question is ‘how?’ Shouldn’t we explore the possibility of having “nomadic villages” modelled as cultural and educational centers?
We are called upon to pick between having an army of ex-nomads devoid of any skills or a people empowered and energized to be co-builders of the nation.
Back to our development stakeholders: Distributionism is akin to mental conditioning. It has never uplifted a people. Rethinking the manner in which we engage with (ex-)nomads is definitely the ideal way to take. It is that simple – but very crucial!
Twitter: @mlemukol.
