The ugly face of drought: Bandits guns go silent as hunger pangs rule in Isiolo

Some small boys stood holding each other’s shoulders in solidarity. It is 4pm and ordinarily after school in vibrant estates, they would be playing football or better still for them, in the grazing fields. The speaker knows what is at stake; the situation is worsening and deaths are imminent.

But even in this situation, Roba is defiant, not  keen to give out numbers of the people who may have succumbed. Like a soldier in a battlefield, surrendering is not an option.

He quipped: “In our community, it is an abomination to report that someone has died of hunger. Even if someone died, we would technically not know, as people won’t report. I want to assure you that in the next three months, we may have to bear with reports of deaths here in Isiolo if the situation continues this way.”

A stone-throw distance to his left, under a dry tree, is a group of women and children.  The children have uncontrolled light coughs, some in hospital for malnutrition, others of school going age are sleeping on their mothers' laps with marks of dried tears on their cheeks. The impact of hunger is visible on their sunken faces, and their eyes transfixed on guests who visit the area, hopeful they’ll get some help.

Men, who have lost all their livestock to the unrelenting four-year-long drought and unending banditry are conversing in low tones. They have resentments. They claim that the government in a mop up, collected all guns, leaving them exposed to insecurity and the aggressor - bandits, who in the midst of the biting shortage of food, have seen their guns go silent as hunger pangs rule.

“When Matiang’i was the security chief, all our guns were taken away. We cannot defend ourselves today, we only depend on eight recently recruited National Police Reservists who cannot fully face bandits from neighboring villages.”

“Now, look, we don’t have anything, our livestock have died due to drought and the few that remained were robbed in broad daylight as our young men drove them into Garba Tula and Meru for grazing,” the 80-year-old Mohammed Hapicha, visibly angry and scarred, said, adding that, “herders came home empty-handed.”

But amidst it all, the media has remained unrelenting in reporting banditry-instigated violence and deaths in Isiolo.  Locals here are aware of the misfortune. They have not known peace for decades. And in a setting where one’s worthiness is assessed by taking stock of their livestock, banditry may just be a clear cut strategy to wield power. And that comes with guns and bullets.

In Gotu, Isiolo North and the neighboring villages, hundreds of kilometers apart, there is peace, at least for the last two months. The death of thousands of livestock previously a source of wealth, prestige and conflict has morphed into peace. And this because there is nothing more to steal because they’ve all been wiped out by drought which has ravaged the area in the last four years.

Used and unused bullets are a common sight here. They sum up the weight of the fight that has gone on  – cattle rusting, now wiped out by the trail of drought.

“Those enemies can strike anytime and even steal this donated foodstuff. Even though we are few, we’re trying to eliminate their violent activities which have been on the rise in the recent past,” an NPR officer, who sought anonymity, says in reference to the assorted foodstuffs donated by the Kenya Red Cross Society in collaboration with other partners.

He falls short of specifying the method used to eliminate bandits. However, the government has been in a race against time to classify banditry as terrorism in a latest strategy to end the decades-old culture. For now, security is not a pricking matter: food insecurity and its assured supply takes precedence.

Animals bear the brunt

Camels with levelled humps lazily cross the road, as we drive around Gotu, a pointer to the devastating effects of drought. There are no birds in sight perching. Nothing green in sight, but a clear blue sky. Even the harsh thorns have dropped off the trees, and carcasses of sheep, goat, donkey and even the man’s best friend- the dog - litter the landscape. In another spot, huge vultures are in a fierce fight over a fresh camel carcass. On this day, residents claim it is a bit cold yet the temperature reads 38°C.

 “I am 80 years old, and I have never seen such a prolonged drought. Initially, it would last six months to one year and at the time trees would not shed leaves. Today, there are no trees. You can’t sleep at night, everyone is hopeless,” Hapicha narrates.

Muhamud Ibrahim, 70, who bears a bullet scar from bandits on his forehead, says he is a worried man. All signs of the return of rain on his mind are fading. There are no flocks of lowly flying birds, no specific wind directions but a series of whirlwinds spewing dust instead. For him, nature is out to wipe them. Nevertheless, he has resorted to prayers at a mosque nearby.

“Ours is to pray that Allah sees us through. It has been four years now. No rain. No clouds. You can’t grow anything. There is no water. We don’t have livestock, all have died. Our dignity has been stripped away. Of what value are you as a man when you are given everything, including food?” he paused, “Look at that river,” he says, pointing at the new Gotu bridge on Ewaso Nyiro river which heads into Garissa county side, “it has dried up.”

In the two villages, no one has food or clean drinking water. What they have access to is salty water, and is sourced over 50 kilometers away from home, daily. The lack of this vital commodity has also pushed the residents of Korbesa to the brink. They are now at risk of contracting diseases. Stomachaches are a common complaint given the foul smell from dead animals scattered all over.

Children in the nearby village of Bardesa, aged eight to 15, use ‘korkisa’, a round jerrican which has a mechanism of using a string to be rolled on the ground, to fetch water every evening after school. Sadly, too, no one has access to proper medical care. Dozens are already suffering from acute malnutrition.

“Malnutrition cases are rising. We admit two to three cases daily, mostly children aged five and below with most affected areas being Korbesa, Birliki and Riga where breastfeeding and pregnant women are severely affected,” Ms. Rukia Mohammed, a nurse at Korbesa dispensary, the only facility in the neighborhood, quips.

She adds: “Moderate malnutrition, we have 72 children, pregnant and lactating mothers are 24 patients and two severe acute malnutrition cases.”

A few minutes past 6pm, just before her iftar, she heads back to her kitchen in the dispensary staff quarters, but worried that the continued drought and lack of clean water could see cases rise significantly.

When the Kenya Red Cross Society (KRCS) staff and volunteers arrived in the remote Gotu location to distribute relief food, the conversation drifted from insecurity, lack of mobile network connectivity and lack of water to adapting to the new reality that they may not return to livestock.

In fact speaker after speaker called for mindset change and the need to embrace crop farming.

“We have heard of climate change and it is possible that we may not see rain soon, or it might come with more tragedy including floods like we saw last time. So we need to think of what is working going forward,” KRCS Secretary General Dr Asha Mohammed said, imploring the locals to have a mind shift and begin thinking of new ways of economic lifeline.

“We have started giving seeds to farmers in other areas including Lamu and lower Eastern counties with a view of encouraging farmers to grow drought resistant crops including sorghum and cassava,” Mohammed added.

To facilitate the transition, the government through development partners is mooting a plan to rehabilitate over 190 dilapidated water points in 30 counties to provide water to over 1.7 million Kenyans.

“The presidential committee has managed to raise nearly Sh650m. We continue with foodstuffs distribution, but we want to use a portion of these donations to rehabilitate water points. With water, we can then ask development partners to do the piping so that we roll out crop growing,” she said.

 President William Ruto has already appointed the National Steering Committee on Drought Response [NSCDR] , whose key task is to come up with an intervention mechanism and Isiolo residents are pegging their hope on the team to help quell the situation.

Grim statistics

According to government statistics, 4.3 million Kenyans in 22 counties face starvation.

According to Peter Ndegwa, the steering committee chairman who launched a ‘Wakenya Tulindane Campaign’ to mobilize resources, over 65 percent of the agricultural output in ASALs has failed, noting that the drying up of open water sources has worsened the situation of local populations.

And whereas priority was initially given to Mandera, Kitui, Kilifi, Samburu and Meru counties, the situation is quickly deteriorating in Isiolo . A latest report by drought watchdog, the National Drought Management Authority (NDMA), Kilifi, Mandera, Marsabit, Samburu and Turkana are among the counties in the alarm phase. Others are Embu, Narok, Taita Taveta, Makueni, Meru, Nyeri, Lamu, Wajir, Isiolo, Kitui and Kajiado.

The author is a reporter and news reader at Mulembe FM, one of the 13 radio stations under the RMS stable