Kenyan Herders Suffer From Drought

By Faith Akiru

I grew up in the Turkana district in northern Kenya. My village is Morulem, a community of about 1,000 people.

Turkanas are pastoralists, which means we keep livestock—goats, camels, cows, sheep and donkeys. Men move with their herds from one place to another throughout the year seeking pasture. Women and children stay behind in the village with just a few animals. When I was young (I'm now 24), I stayed with my mom, two brothers and sister in the village. My father lives with a new wife, and I haven't seen him for the last 10 years.

Drought is Getting Harder to Survive

Turkanas live off their animals. When rains are good, we drink milk from our goats and occasionally eat an animal. We also drink the blood of our animals. I know this isn't common in the United States, but in Kenya many pastoralist communities survive by doing this and consider it an ordinary part of life. Say a family staying behind in the village has 10 animals. Each day, you make a small cut in a goat's or cow's neck. We then collect some blood, and each family member drinks some. When there is rain and lots of green pasture, our animals are healthy enough that this doesn't affect them. But when there is no rain or plants for the animals to eat, they stop making milk and aren't strong enough for us to take blood from them.

Because of Kenya's long drought, animals can no longer support our daily needs, leaving my family and other Turkana villagers extremely vulnerable. We suffered drought when I was growing up, and I remember going hungry for several days. We'd go to the river to pick wild fruits and plants. These plants have a very bitter taste, so we'd camp there to boil them until the bitterness left. About once a year, we would also receive relief food.

Now drought is harder to survive because livestock raiding is increasing. People are using guns for raiding, making it harder to protect our herds. My family isn't doing so good. I send them money, but even if they can use it to get food, all the people around them are hungry. It's a bit uncomfortable for them to eat when all of the others around them are hungry, and I can't send enough to feed everyone.

My Responsibility to Help

I have a lot of responsibility. There is a lot for me to do back in my village. Five girls from Morulem have graduated from eighth grade and gone on to high school. I'm the only one who managed to finish, and I'm now the only girl with a college degree in the village.

The person who helped me get an education is a Catholic nun. When I was studying at a Catholic boarding school, at one point I didn't have the school fees to continue. The principal told me I would have to leave, but I told her I didn't even have the money to return to my village. I said I'd figure out a way to pay later. She found someone to pay my fees, and later she found another Irish nun to pay for a college program in information technology at Jomo Kenyatta University.

I feel I'm a role model. I need to have a good job so when I go back to my village they can see how my education has changed my life. I talk to the young girls in Morulem about the importance of education and help them learn about different careers. And I tell them that just like any other human being, they can go to school and live a better life than they are now. Part of my responsibility is to also fight against early and forced marriages that lead many girls to become young mothers of children they can't support.

Finding Ways to Earn Money

It's also important that I help teach people in Morulem how to make a better living. Some villagers could open small businesses if they learn basic business and accounting skills. Turkanas also know how to make mats, brooms and necklaces. The drought is a bit too much right now, but usually the goats are fat and can be sold at a very good price of around $20. Sometimes villagers sell them for the equivalent of just $2 or $3 though, because there's no market for this. I need to help residents find ways to earn money and find markets they can access.

Life in Turkana would be good if there were no raiders and enough rain. The land is fertile, and villagers could use the local river to irrigate farms for those who are too old to go to school—a significant cultural change but one that would increase food resources. Improving life in Morulem will take time, but I believe it can happen. To start, I'm praying that the rains expected in October finally come.

Faith Akiru is working for Catholic Relief Services in Kenya as an information technology assistant.