The land that time forgot

My work kicked off properly this week. I spent the week in north-west Kenya, in Turkana country. Part of my role is to evaluate some of the health services provided to the refugee camps in Kenya and the communities that host them. So after seeing Amazing daughter off back to England, I packed my bags (note to self: you must learn to travel light) and at 5.30am I was at the Wilson Airport checking in for the World Food Programme flight to Kakuma

A bit about Turkana County and Kakuma (don't say you haven't learned anything useful from my blog)

Turkana is about 700km (~ 430 miles) to the north from Nairobi. It borders Uganda to the north west, South Sudan to the north and Ethiopia to north east. It is in what Kenya describes as its ASALs - Arid and Semi-Arid Lands. It is vast and sparsely populated by the Turkana, nomadic pastoralists, the majority of whom still adhere to their traditional religion (over 90% practice their traditional religions) and traditional lifestyle, moving with the seasons and the needs of their livestock. The weather – as the ASAL description indicates - is DRY and HOT!!! It isn’t uncommon to go a whole year without any rains. And yet, the county also contains the beautiful Lake Turkana (formerly called Lake Rudolph by the British when they were here). I have been told that Lake Turkana is beautiful; I hope to find out for myself sometime.

The Turkana county capital is Lodwar. It sits in a basin astride the Turkwel River and is even hotter than the surrounding area. This is the seat of the recently created county government.

(Side note on Kenyan politics and recent history: One significant contribution of Turkana to Kenyan political history is that this was the region of choice for holding political prisoners by the British colonial government. Jomo Kenyatta, the first president of Kenya, was held on house arrest in Lodwar for 2 years in the late 1950s.Turkana was declared a ‘closed district’ by the British just after the 2^nd world war and remained isolated from the rest of Kenya until the mid-1970s when road blocks, limiting movement into and out of the county, were finally lifted.  Following the violence after the 2007 elections, Kenya adopted a new constitution in 2010 which required the devolution of power from the central government in Nairobi to the newly-created counties and sub-counties. Until this change, there had been little investment or development in the ASALs.)

Turkana is also the location of one of the largest refugee camp in the world – Kakuma refugee camp; my first destination.

Our flight landed on a dirt strip with no discernible ‘airport’ terminal. We picked up our luggage at the foot of the plane steps and walked out to a carpark where we were met by our driver. We drove past local Turkana women with their rows and rows of colourful neck beads and wraps tied over one shoulder, and Turkana men in raffish hats with feathers in them (I learned that ostrich feathers are prized for this purpose), with large hoop earrings and carrying decorated sticks. It was a short 20 minute drive from the airstrip to the UNHCR staff compound in Kakuma camp.

Kakuma camp, (I’m told the name is kiswahilli for ‘nowhere’ but I haven’t been able to confirm this), was set up in 1992 to take in refugees following wars in the neighbouring countries of Sudan and Ethiopia. The current camp population is estimated at about 185,000. 95% of its residents are Somalian, Sudanese and Ethiopian, with people from the DRC, Uganda, Burundi, Rwanda, Eritrea, Zimbabwe and even Nigeria (yes Nigeria!), making up just over 5%. It continues to grow and due to the ongoing upheaval in South Sudan, has increased beyond its current capacity. The camp is managed by UNHCR and the Kenyan government and the NGO I’m working with is one of the major providers of services to the refugees.

Now, you are probably thinking: refugee camp, rows of white tents with blue roofs with UN emblazoned on the top, journalists with cameras taking pictures of the photogenic and the dying, and western (mostly white) volunteers helping the refugees just arriving from war torn / famine decimated regions. Well, it’s not quite like that.

•       First, the accommodation for refugees is mostly mud huts with thatch roofs. Kakuma camp is a big town, with suburbs settled by refugees from different countries and communities to avoid clashes (the wars in neighbouring areas don’t stop because you have been classed as a refugee).
•       Second, far too many of the refugees have been here for years, decades even! Yes, new ones are arriving, particularly from South Sudan, but the majority have been here for ages. They are not allowed to leave the camp without a special pass, they are not allowed to seek employment outside the camps; and far too few ever get relocated to other parts of Kenya or other countries. I met a Somali resident of the camp, in his mid-20s who has been in Kakuma for almost 20 years!
•        Finally, the vast majority of the people providing services and working with the refugees are Kenyans. And they are to be admired. Kenyan staff working on the camps leave their families behind in Nairobi, Kisumu etc, and move into the UNHCR staff compound on the camp. Facilities are basic and communal. Every 2 -3 months, the staff get a few days ‘R&R’, during which they go home to families and friends elsewhere in the country. Yet, these ‘national staff’ as they are known, remain dedicated to improving the lives of the displaced people in the camps.

The challenges facing refugees are complex. Aside from the obvious trauma associated with the cause of their status, refugees are removed from their normal ways of life. They are dependent on the UNHCR and NGOs for everything. Women who in their traditional communities would be busy from dawn till dusk (women in nomadic communities are traditionally responsible for building the hut, fetching water, firewood, cooking, looking after the children, subsistence farming etc), and men who would traditionally be out with their herds, find themselves with time on their hands and no meaningful purpose to fill the hours. A tiny number of refugees with needed skills are employed as ‘incentive staff’ by the agencies and paid a small stipend, but this is a miniscule proportion of the population. Many set up little businesses – there are many markets selling essentials not provided by the agencies (and exchanging supplies provided by the agencies for more desirable stuff too). But the restrictions of refugee life takes its toll, with high levels of alcohol misuse, particularly among the South Sudanese. It’s a sad sad situation.

After two days touring the facilities, meeting the staff and assessing the service provision with other IRC colleagues from Nairobi, we moved to Lodwar and I got to tick another thing off my bucket list.

Lodwar is about 120 km from Kakuma along a poorly maintained road with a high risk of attack by armed bandits (cattle rustling and inter-tribal skirmishes between the Turkana and the neighbouring Pokot is a problem here). So travel along this route requires an armed escort. So there I was, sitting in the front passenger seat of a white UN jeep with an armed vehicle following close behind and our driver racing down the terrible road at considerable speed (apparently the security advice is to move fast). The driver was very familiar with the route and knew when to get off the excuse for a road and hit the dusty tracks. Those of you who know me well will know that I’m a bit of a petrol-head; I loved it!! Woohoo!! Flying down this dirt track in a 4 wheel drive, occasionally stopping for crossing camels (yes, you read right, camels; the Turkana herd cattle, sheep, goats, donkeys AND camels).

Our driver was considerate enough to stop for the tourist (me) to take occasional pictures of the moonscape-like terrain and the camels, and transient Turkana huts. I hope I can upload some pictures here.

Lodwar, the capital ‘town’ of Turkana was hot and dusty. The Turkana themselves, even within the town, still live very traditional lives in easily dismantled huts, in traditional dress. A small proportion have settled and adapted to town living but the conflict between traditional and western living shows in the high proportion of ‘street children’ addicted to glue sniffing!

Oil and natural gas reserves have recently been discovered in Turkana, and a boom is predicted. I hope this brings good things for the people of the region and that they are not cursed with the ‘Dutch disease’ (see http://lexicon.ft.com/Term?term=dutch-disease). However, I fear that others better equipped to reap the benefits of the oil industry will move in to take the high-income jobs, and the ill-educated Turkana will be left with the unskilled labour and disrupted traditional lifestyles. Let’s hope I’m wrong.

I left Lodwar after 2 days on a commercial flight via Eldoret to Nairobi (slightly bigger plane, fully occupied by about 40 passengers). Visiting Kakuma and Lodwar was fascinating and distressing and exhilarating and depressing and I look forward to my next trip there. But by the end of the week, I was glad to return to the cool ‘winter’ air of Nairobi.

If you want to know more about the Turkana, may I recommend this blog by a social anthropologist who lived with a Turkana family for a year http://livinginturkana.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html

Next … going downtown ….