Does Relief Food Distribution Kill Drought, Hunger?

Listening to some supposedly intelligent people discussing about the current drought hitting Turkana County and many other dry corners of Kenya prompted my mind to ask itself what the word 'drought' stands for. Is it just a long spell of dry weather hitting a place? Or is it the dryness of our minds and heartlessness of our hearts causing pro-people systems to turn against the very same targets they ought to uplift?

Predictably many of us will point out lack of rains as the real culprit causing drought and by extension leading to starvation - producing those ugly images of women and children fighting for their dear lives. But away from this rather common narrative there rests another critical component that could possibly be the reason why drought kills, and why it should always kill before a veiled 'anti-drought' intervention is quickly launched from all fronts - government, non-government, religious... Unfortunately hidden from these fronts is the question: has drought become so powerful to a point that it has to be cuddled when measures against it are put in place?

This question is relevant because it forms the bedrock of my fears that victims of drought do not appear to be the central reason behind anti-drought moves in Kenya. And to arrive at this painful stop I had to do some flashbacking. Actually if drought were to be set up as a business venture it would have overpowered the influence of those known international oil moguls. In Turkana alone this thing has attracted endless streams of cash, techniques, people and organizations with little impact on the general public.

Perhaps the most visible benefit associated with drought is some locals working as anti-poverty agents. But for how long? Drought benefits those around decision-making tables. Of course this is an area that is highly guarded because of its resourcefulness and the political power players it attracts. This is why I believe drought and other disasters, natural and manmade, have created lethal disaster hitmen patrolling northern Kenya's dry villages scuttling any efforts to empower people. Enlightening these villagers is a step these hitmen will explore every option to stop.

Sometime back I heard a well placed political broker sweet-talking his colleagues. The talk revolved around ways to adopt so as to counter the effects of drought that had ravaged their people. Preceding this small meeting was a conference on disaster preparedness and specifically how to come up with a viable way of sourcing for funds to facilitate this anti-disaster intervention. In the conference were people from all sides: donors, politicians and government representatives. To summarize this story, what has stuck in my mind is a statement made by that political broker: "...some problems come at the right time, moments when we need money for ourselves..." 

Ironically this guy won't cower to shout about the power vested in him to defend, speak for and stand with his people. It is such kind of people that force me to pose the question: does relief food distribution really kill drought, hunger?

I stand to be corrected. A disaster that attracts huge funding inlets and heavy political participation is unlikely to end. Food distribution is an exercise that needs money to purchase, store, transport, and to distribute those rations to victims of drought. These are ways that service lives of many; decision makers both in government and other bodies, politicians, influence peddlers, business people, local agents and many other unseen demons. Now tell me, why has it taken long for Kenya to even express its commitment to bring an end to these painful episodes?

For your information drought is not just about starvation and giving life to disaster hitmen. There are other effects. In many of these dry places when it becomes drier, wind sets in. Apart from causing health complications, these winds cause fires. Isn't it time to make life out of these winds? (Wind energy, I guess, could be an option).

To bring down drought and its hitmen, I think it is time we allowed this year's drought to trigger us to collectively do an honest analysis on past anti-drought, anti-starvation interventions with a view to allowing a new breed of interventionists with victims as their only and number one reason to lead this anti-disaster fight.

Lemukol Ng'asike is an architect. Email: lemoseh89@gmail.com. Twitter: @mlemukol.

Turkana-Pokot war is #banditrycapitalism2.0

Two weeks ago my curiosity pushed me into a closed-door peace meeting in Kainuk organized by sub-county security teams from Turkana South and Sigor sub-counties. In the room were selected persons from both sides. The meeting, I learnt, was prompted by the Pokot side after one of its residents claimed that suspected bandits from Turkana allegedly drove away his 250 cows towards Kainuk trading center.

The exchanges that followed uncovered the many old questions associated with Turkana-Pokot war and which have remained unanswered. Untruths, bloody business and creativity whose import is to cover wrongs. The most visible one touched on the value of human life vis-a-vis that of say, a cow.

About a week earlier, one person was shot dead in Kainuk (allegedly by Pokot bandits). No follow up was conducted and the man was buried and forgotten. Unfortunately, this incident did not feature in the agenda list of the gathering. What was given much weight was how those cows said to have been stolen would be returned. 

For your information, killers roaming in this part of Kenya need not worry about being arrested provided they have cows within their reach. You see, there is something here called cow-compensation. It is a form of compensation where a bereaved family is given some cows by agents of a suspected murderer (or his family) to "clean the blood of the dead". Then the whole story is forgotten. This is despite the clear demands of the laws of Kenya that law breakers should be arrested and be subjected to the due process of law.

What disturbs me is the fact that this form of compensation is supported, promoted and defended by those who ought to know what justice means and how such types of law-breaking persons should be handled. 

That equating people's lives with livestock is normal tells me there is something bigger behind Turkana-Pokot war.

The visibility of the deputy county commissioners from both sides in the hall would easily make one believe that government was alive and that law enforcement remained its cardinal obligation. But what flowed from their mouths, augmented by their body language made Kenya look like an abode of all breeds of miscreants where law enforcement only materializes after these miscreants are assured of their safety.

This experience reminded me of an article I read on Evonomics, written by Linsey McGoey - author of No Such Thing as a Free Gift: The Gates Foundation and The Price of Philanthropy.

Though her piece focused on philanthrocapitalism, and how the rich bank on conditions of the poor to lift up their wealth as the poor become poorer, three of her key words fit perfectly into the Turkana-Pokot context. These are relevance, profits and maintenance.

For a distant observer, and indeed the general public, poverty and killings shoot up as key ingredients to concoct a catchy story. And here comes the ball, how would these catchy stories exist if we uproot the main actors profiting from them?

So maintenance of violence is important to keep certain offices relevant and to keep profits flowing in. Call it #banditrycapitalism2.0 in action.

I am unhappy with the way the Kenyan government handles this conflict. Where on earth do you have all tools of work, you know the crook disturbing public order and still opt to go beg that crook to give you cows to pass over to families whose loved ones the crook has killed? Is this the way our Constitution mandates security agents to maintain law and order?

We must just underline some things even if they sound painful. Look, the mafia-like mentality stoking northern Kenya, and Turkana in particular is due to state failure to guarantee security and is the main reason why the region still swims in poverty. Blame not terrain and the gods. The problem is here with us. Bandits sing because they know they have listeners.

The many layers of listeners being entertained by bandits need be identified and action taken against them. Profiting from human blood is more than a curse. It is a crime against humans and God. We must all stand together and neutralize these demons.

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