For You

By Maurice Oniang’o

I wish the world could understand the emptiness in my voice,
I wish the world could comprehend the stillness between my words,
I wish the world could figure out the sadness behind my smiles,
I wish the world could recognize the grief disguised in happiness,
For you it was easy to comprehend the sorrows in my world,
Now all that is no more,
Through the pain your memories are an oasis of happiness,
You made the world more comfortable,
Who is the world if it’s not you?
You occupied the emptiness in my world,
You filled the void in my life perfectly,
I am tired of hiding behind fake smiles,
I desire to re-live the moments we shared,
I want to be happy again,
I leave my door open hoping that you will walk in and make me smile again.
This is For you, For me, For us…….with love

“May be with time the pain will go, the healing will come but the marks you left in me will forever remain,Your footprints will forever remain ingrained in my heart”- Maurice Oniang’o (from Grief -Memoirs of a village youngster in the ‘big city’-March 2013)

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CHRONICLES OF A VILLAGE BOY IN A CITY CAMPUS: Streets of Nairobi

Maurice Oniang'o                                                                                                                      By Maurice Oniang’o.
At last, after a 15 hour journey, I was in Nairobi, the city in the sun. I was now seeing what I see on Television and Newspapers (once in a while when I get a chance); elegant buildings, gleaming skyscrapers, big screens with moving pictures and more. This was an achievement not just to me but to my entire family since I am the second one after Okambo to travel to the city. I might as well say I am the first one because my old man was in Nairobi when Kenya was still under King George’s territory!
My first obligation was to call Matiasi, my uncle who lives in Nairobi to pick me up as earlier agreed. Uncle Matiasi promised me he will be at the bus stop after 20 minutes but one hour later he had not appeared. I knew he was stuck in traffic. After all that is the reason everyone in Nairobi gives when they are late for an appointment. I decided to take a stroll around town even though I had been warned against doing that. This was a God given opportunity to explore the city. After all, who could be stupid enough not to use a chance like this to explore Kenya’s biggest city? Not me. I am just a typical countryside boy, born and brought up in a very remote village. The farthest I had ever been was to my county headquarters’ and that back in the day when I was still in high school.
I was thrilled by what I was seeing in the streets. The traffic lights, the people (everyone seemed to be in a hurry), the tarmac and so on. However the most interesting thing I saw was traffic police officers controlling the traffic. Where I was born no traffic police can dare stand in the middle of the road because all we have there are break less wobbly vehicles driven by very old men who do not care about traffic rules. The excitement eventually made me lose sense of direction. I could not tell which direction I had come from or where I was heading to. I was lost. I had walked past four streets and could not figure out the exact location of the bus stage. I remembered my mother’s stern warning against walking in the streets of Nairobi. “If you get lost in Nairobi, we shall never find you. So be careful,” she had stressed.
I decided to call uncle Matiasi, who by this time was at the bus stop and was looking for me. He told me to describe anything or any building I could recognize. Sadly everything in the streets looked the same to me. I was so terrified with thoughts of how I will survive in the city streets if he couldn’t find me. “I am standing next to the ‘Soda Baridi’ shop directly opposite the M-pesa Agents,” I told him on the phone. You may laugh your head off but I knew only one shop in Khambisha that was known to all as Soda Baridi shop never mind that their sodas are never cold because the refrigerator was an improvisation of a bucket full of cold water.
About the M-pesa shop, this was a new phenomenon to me. I had never seen one let alone hear of it yet here I was standing opposite more than five shops with the same name ‘M-Pesa Agent’. Uncle Matiasi was not amused by the village naivety because he understood it anyway. He instructed me to look for help from any security guard about my location to which he later picked me up at Ambassador Bus terminal. We boarded a Matatu to campus but after scolding me. I was annoyed by the way he was shouting all sorts of names and grabbing my hands when we wanted to cross the road. I wondered why he was doing that to me. Was it because I had brought him nothing from the village? You know, every time someone travels to the ‘big city’ from the village, he is always given loads of foodstuff to bring to Matiasi. But here I was with nothing to offer him except his mother’s message instructing him to take to her his children because she was supposed to shave them as traditions dictate.
Or maybe Uncle Matiasi was treating me this way because he is not my uncle? You may be wondering why am saying that. So let me explain, back in the village anybody older than you is your uncle or aunty for ladies. Matiasi is just a fellow village man and I have no blood relations with him. He is a respected man in the village because he is the only link between the village and the city not to mention that he has not visited the village for the past three years because he is ‘very busy.’ Anybody who travels from Khambisha to the city and does not meet him, definitely he never reached Nairobi.
I sighed with relief when we finally arrived at the college. There was a long queue at admissions, uncle Matiasi decided to leave because I was grown up and could handle anything. I enquired from him if I could visit him during the weekend but he refused. I knew he will not accept. It is known in the village that he always gives lame excuses when the issue of visiting him arises. He is known to lie to about the estate where he lives too. Once he told a cousin of his who had gone to visit him that he is staying in Madaraka estate but upon reaching Madaraka, Matiasi told his cousin that he stays in Makadara estate. He blamed his poor cousin for not being attentive when he was being given the directions. This behavior has earned him the nickname ‘Mnairobi Asili’ (A true Nairobian) back in the village meaning that he is just like other people who live in Nairobi and never want people to know where they stay let alone paying them a visit.

During my first year in college (long time ago or once upon a time), I decided to start penning down chronicles of a village boy in a city campus (Which I was). This was because; one I had a lot of time in my hands and two I hoped it would get published! However after a while the will went down and I forgot about it but recently while going through my documents I found it and thought, why not post it on my blog? So here it is. CHRONICLES OF A VILLAGE BOY IN A CITY CAMPUS

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CHRONICLES OF A VILLAGE BOY IN A CITY CAMPUS: Celebrations

Maurice Oniang'o
By Maurice Oniang’o
Joining campus is always a dream for many youngsters. Being a freshman or a ‘fresha’ as popularly referred to as by campus veterans, one realizes that he or she has more freedom but has listened to so much nonsense and it is almost impossible to separate the truth from lies.
That is when one comes to understand the real meaning of the phrase ‘freedom is served in a 360 degrees package’ but that is if you are among the ‘lucky’ ones who do not commute from home. The phrase simply means that there is no parent to ask you about your whereabouts, your friends or your actions. Not even your lecturer will question your absenteeism from class or the class representative handing you over to the dean because you took a glass or two of Makali- a cheap and very strong alcohol. In campus, you can even marry without your parents consent or that of your wife’s so long as they do not get wind of it.
When I got my admission letter I was thrilled because this was a dream come true. However, my happiness was not anywhere close to what my father was feeling. The old man was a proud father of a campus material, the first son of the village to join campus and not just any campus, but a University based in Nairobi. This earned my family both respect and admiration because no one knew whether I would turn out to be the next Allan Namu, Jeff Koinange or maybe the Kenyan version of Larry King.
This called for celebrations. My old man invited the whole village to come and celebrate with him. They came in large numbers, most of them carrying their congratulatory gifts in form of bananas, a few gorogoros (kilograms) of maize or beans and chicken. However, the biggest and conspicuous of them all was a goat; actually, a kid brought by Lidwaji a retired head teacher of a nearby primary school and a confidant of my old man. He did a small traditional jig making sure he had caught everyone’s attention then proceeded to explain to me. “Wafula I bless you with this young goat so that when it grows, you will also grow academically, financially and even socially,” He then held my hand and spat on it. I felt like throwing up but I restrained myself for it was tantamount to refusing the blessings. I wonder what will happen to my future if the goat dies today or is stolen. That part he did not explain.
By noon, our home had been filled to capacity and small groups had started forming up. By the looks in their eyes, I could tell that most of the villagers were not there because of my achievement. Except for the few genuine ones, some came because of the feast. Others came because ‘Okambo’, an influential village elder had called upon the whole village to celebrate with him the accomplishment of his son. Missing such an occasion meant that you did not want Okambo’s family and the whole village too to succeed. Okambo is my father’s nickname given to him by the villagers after he handled a case of two young men who were caught stealing cassavas in our neighbor’s farm. He was nicknamed after former ICC chief prosecutor Moreno Ocampo- the guy who at one time gave some of our leaders nightmares. The old man hates that nickname but we still use it when he is not in earshot. It feels good to call your father a nickname that he hates!
After the parting and feasting, Okambo mobilized an entourage to escort me to the bus stage a few kilometers from home. However, before departing I had to face six village elders for a one hour guiding and counseling lecture. They warned me against alcohol and women, actually not women but anybody who wore a skirt or dress. “The only reason you are going to college is to get education so keep your distance from alcohol and anybody in a dress or a skirt,” Wanjala, my former primary school deputy head teacher affirmed. After the lecture, my brother, an aspiring pastor sought divine intervention for my journey and my well being an exercise that lasted 30 minutes or so of which he calls a ‘short prayer.’
The long trek to the stage began and the villagers hired a boda boda for me. They could not allow their son to walk the long distance. It seems they had forgotten that I had been walking on the same path all my life. Kiveti, the boda boda man could not let such a momentous opportunity to carry a University ‘material’ to pass him! This was reason enough for him to carry me free of charge. The ride to town had nothing major apart from the endless stories Kiveti told me about the big city I was travelling too. He once stayed in Nairobi about two decades ago and according to him the city has not changed thus I need to be ‘chonjo’ or else I might be kidnapped.
Finally, we reached the bus stage and I was given last blessings from Okambo and the escort team after which he handed me ten thousand shillings cash for my up keep. I could not believe it. I kept the money in my socks for safety as earlier advised by my mum. I could not picture what I will do with that load of money. Buy beer or take out a college beauty for lunch? NO. I had never tasted alcohol and I had been warned to stay away from anyone who adorned a skirt. I could not just figure out exactly what I would do with the money.

During my first year in college (long time ago or once upon a time), I decided to start penning down chronicles of a village boy in a city campus (Which I was). This was because; one I had a lot of time in my hands and two I hoped it would get published! However after a while the will went down and I forgot about it but recently while going through my documents I found it and thought, why not post it on my blog? So here it is. CHRONICLES OF A VILLAGE BOY IN A CITY CAMPUS

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Who will be the first to cast a stone?

By Maurice Oniang’o

Recently I met with one of Kenya’s notable strategic planners and motivational speaker (bragging rights reserved). We spoke about various issues including current affairs in the country. Going through the day’s newspaper, it was clear that Kenyans might not be the second happiest people in Africa as reported in a recent research. The stories for the day varied from murder, allegations of rape and sexual harassment involving MP’s , corruption involving senior government officers, land grabbing allegations involving a church, embezzlement of donor funds by some Civil Society organizations, robberies in city streets and so on!

Most of the scandals reported in the Newspaper involved the crème de la crème of our society and we asked ourselves if there is anyone among them who has the moral high ground to point a finger. Who amongst us is clean enough to speak against corruption for instance? Is the society so messed up that everyone is tainted? It reminded me of the bible when Jesus was teaching in the temple then the scribes and Pharisees brought to Him a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery, and they asked Him if she should be stoned as required by the Law of Moses. The response of Jesus to them was ‘he who is without sin can cast the first stone’

Today we are faced with a similar situation. The woman caught in the act of adultery being economic evils like corruption, land grabbing etc, social evils like rape, tribalism, morality or immorality if you may like and political evils such as allegations of incitement by politicians.
The scribes and Pharisees include politicians (MP’s, Senators, Governors, MCA’s etc), Religious leaders, government officials, institutions like EACC, the media which I am a player, Parliamentary Select Committees among many others. So among them who will be the first to cast a stone to the evils in our nation? Is it the national assembly? The national assembly has had its own share of drama which brings up questions on matters of integrity. Last year MP’s decided to take it a notch higher by fighting inside parliament as Kenyans and the whole world watched. Still on the national assembly members who have been given the mandate to check on issues of corruption are now being alleged of corruption. Do you think they can be the first to cast a stone when it comes to corruption cases? Do they have the moral high ground?

That’s not all about the national assembly. This week alone two MP’s have been separately accused of sexual assault and rape. One was accused of sexually assaulting a fellow MP while on a trip abroad and the other one accused of raping a woman inside his private office. Then again we have the MP who sacked a lady working at his CDF office through a text message. The interesting thing about this particular MP is not about how he fired a constituency staff through a text message but the reason behind his actions. Apparently he expected more from the said staff and when she resisted his demands she was fired and sent various texts messages. One of the texts went like this;

“Ulikataa nikule hizo vitu na vile nazimezea mate. Now I am employing another person on your behalf. Hii dunia kila kitu ni nipe nikupe. Ken will give you the other details on how to clear from the office. Goodbye”

So do such individuals have the moral high ground to point a finger? (I am not saying any of them was guilty. All these were allegations)

What about our religious leaders? Do they have the moral high ground to criticize wickedness in our society? My guess is that the negative scandals involving some religious leaders has tarnished their name to the point that when the term religious leader is mentioned, we see a pastor who was caught having an affair with someone’s wife, we see a church leader who is involved in a land grabbing saga, we see a pastor asking us to send them money as payment for prayer or ‘kupanda mbegu!’ We see a ‘Kanyari’ kind of character rather than seeing a servant of God who always speaks and stand by the truth irrespective of their tribe, political affiliations and personal beliefs.

If the religious leaders won’t be the first to cast a stone, can the Kenyan media do that? On this one I have to be keen on what I say because I am a part of it. Are we blameless? Do we always stand for what is right and true? Are all our engagements done for the good of the public? Are we always non-partisan when discharging our duties? If you have answered NO to any of the question then you know why the media will not be the first to cast a stone. A certain Professor calls it the zombie media because on how we carry out our daily businesses and the kind of stories we always give emphasis on.

So then who has that moral high ground to condemn the evils in society? Is it EACC? Even with their infighting’s? Is it top government officials? Even with corruption allegations hanging over their heads? Is it the police? Even with the dozens of allegations against the police service? Is it Civil Society organizations or evil society organizations as they’re christened by some malicious individuals? Who will be the first to stand up and cast a stone to the evils in Kenya today? Or just like in the bible we will all quietly walk away one by one and move on to the next evil?

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Nairoberry; Held hostage and mugged as the city watched

By Maurice Oniang’o

I have to admit how I had a hard time writing this article. I typed, I deleted typed again and deleted. Started another draft in my notebook, crossed it again and again. This was simply because as I started typing, the ordeal played in my mind and I blamed myself for what I should have done and what I should have not done! However I had to do it for my sake as my confidant and precious ‘counselor’ always tells me, talking it out and in this case writing about it, always helps in the healing process.
Last Thursday at about 6:30 in the evening I was walking along Accra Road and just after the Nanyuki matatu stage I felt someone holding my left hand firmly. I turned to look, suspecting a pickpocket or someone with evil intentions. I was once told that in this town everyone is a suspected pick-pocket or thief until proven otherwise. The guy who was holding my hand was a short stout guy, his eyes were very red and his lips were swollen. I guess he was in some fight earlier because his dirty white t-shirt has blood stains on it. So this guy let’s call him ‘Red eyes’ said to me “Niaje mzae niwachie kachwani,” (Hey man give me fifty shillings). I knew if I don’t set myself free that particular moment, I was in for some big trouble. Since we were right in front of the shops, I thought maybe I could seek refuge there. But just as I was forcing his hand to let go so that I can rush into the shops, another guy came and blocked me from accessing the shops. “Mzae fanya tu hivo tuko jeshi” the second guy told me. I realized that Red Eyes’ was not alone and the ‘party’ was going to be bigger.
This second guy was dark, tall and a bit muscular. He had a strong bad smell you’d think he came straight from cleaning a pig’s house. This guy let’s call him ‘Smelly John’ asked me to cooperate with them. Soon a third person joined us. Him we’ll call ‘Jeshi’. Jeshi was light skinned, smartly dressed and had a bag. He could easily be mistaken for a college student going or coming from class. When he joined us I knew that this encounter won’t let me free without any injury or injuries, be it physical, emotional or financially. I knew the more I cooperate the lesser the chances of me getting physical injuries so I decided to dance to their music. It might be taken as an act of cowardice, but I lived to tell the story!
Red eye was still asking for the fifty shillings and they let me go. This was all hogwash, fifty shillings was not the only thing they wanted from me. Although on a previous similar encounter I ‘paid’ forty shillings to some two guys so that they don’t steal from me. This was last year along Ronald Ngala Street when two guys approached me and demanded that I give them money for supper or they steal from me! I managed to escape from them but after giving them forty shillings! Last year’s incident occurred at about 9:30 pm and this incident is taking place at 6:30 pm! I thought that someone might be seeing what is happening to me and raise alarm that never happened despite the fact that we were in an open place. Red Eyes told me to be quick and not worry about change; they will give it to me if I had a ‘big’ note. My mind was thinking a million things at the same time, trying to figure out how I will get money from my wallet without losing it to these three low-lifes. I knew if they lay their hands on it, it is as good as gone. Though I did not have money of a significant amount inside it, the idea of losing my ID, Press Card, ATM’s (of empty accounts), various contacts and cards made me sweat.
Luckily I remembered I had been given change earlier and I had it in my other pocket, I got it and gave ‘Red Eyes’. I could see his face change. He was angered and my guess is that he did not expect me to produce a fifty shillings note. “Buda unaona tunakaa watu wa chwani?” he asked. I told him that was what he had asked for. As I was still being engaged by ‘Red Eyes’, Jeshi took my phone from my pocket. I was enraged. I am being robbed as people pass by and others watching. Red Eyes now went for my wrist watch. My heart sunk. This was a gift, a precious and invaluable gift from my precious confidant. No they can’t take this, I thought. You can’t steal a gift from someone, can you? I pleaded with him to leave me with the watch since they had taken my phone. As expected, he ignored my request. I also asked Jeshi to give me my sim card and he retorted “Kujia kesho utaipata tu hapa,” and just like they appeared from nowhere, they vanished again.
I had been held hostage for more than two minutes (though I am not sure if am accurate, everything happened too fast) and no one came to my rescue. I was been robbed in front of shops in a bus stage while people looked. I was mad. I wished I had some invincible powers or I was a Jack Baur of some sort that I beat them all at the same time. I wished I was re-living a movie scene, where a sniper in an opposite building would take them ‘out’ one by one. I wished I had a gun and paint the street red and white with their blood and brains. I wished I had magical powers to make them eat grass. The two minute or so incident was turning me into a heartless creature. Never before had I wished death upon anyone, but on Thursday evening I wished those three could be knocked down by a trailer or just get involved in an incident that will cause them a slow and painful death. They are nuisance to society and do not deserve to live. Right?

The watch, a  precious and invaluable gift from my  confidant-Photo Maurice Oniang'o

The watch, a precious and invaluable gift from my confidant-Photo Maurice Oniang’o


After the three disappeared I went to an M-Pesa agent nearby to block that line. That was a safety measure because I have heard of an incident where another guy lost his phone and the thieves used his number to solicit money from people on his phonebook. I wanted to make it impossible for the three to use my number to sent random texts or calls to people on my contact list soliciting for money or making any other demand. That evening I went home an angry, terrified and a sad man. Anger was boiling inside me. I wondered why God had allowed it to happen that way. Where was He when these three people were robbing me? I was angry that God had left me to the mercies of those thugs.
That night as I said a prayer before going to bed, I got the answers to my questions. After praying thoughts started flowing in of what happened and what did not happen. Where was God? God was there with me. He protected me, He secured my life. I did not get even a scratch from the ordeal. I know of incidences where they rob someone and beat him /her leaving them fighting for their lives. If God was not there, I would be writing this article from a hospital bed, being treated some funny infections and wounds caused by dirty knives and blunt objects or even worse. By worse I mean the worst that can happen to a living thing. And can you imagine that for all that time we stood there none of the three thieves thought about taking my wallet? I believe that was God! On Friday afternoon I coincidentally met a friend of mine called Arthur who knew about the incident. He asked if I had another phone and when I said no, he gave me one of his phones! I have heard about giving thanks in all situations and I have even told people to do that and I was here doing the exact opposite. On Friday evening my dad called and asked me to not only to forgive the three thieves but also pray for them! That was a tough call but I know by the grace of God I will be able to do just that. Forgiveness is the first step to healing right?
The Thursday evening incident reminds me about a lesson I learnt from my nephew. One day he lost his pen in class and when he complained one of his classmates told him “Kuna watu wamepoteza maisha na hawatusumbui, wametulia kabisa mortuary, wewe umepoteza tu kalamu na unapiga kelele,” so I am not complaining about losing a phone and a wristwatch, I know there are people who have lost much than I did. Many guys that I have told about the incidence sympathized with me but most of them had one concluding phrase “Pole iyo ni hali ya Nairobi” we have accepted that it is right to be mugged during the day. We see it as normal when someone is robbed as we pass by and watch! This attitude will one day hurt you. One day the thieves will come for you, for your brother, sister, friend or someone close to you and they might only steal from them but leave them with injuries and lifetime scars! Wait until it happens to you and you get terrified and scared of walking in the city streets. Everybody will be a suspect ready to attack you. We need to stand up and stop petty crimes from happening in our streets. If you see a suspicious incident raise alarm. Mobilize people to face the thieves. I know one person cannot do it alone but if you mobilize a group we will stop this. When I say stop I don’t mean mob-justice. Apprehend the thieves and take them to police and the complainants appear in court for the due process to take effect. Because if you don’t appear in court, the thieves are released and they go back to the streets.

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Sugarcane farming; does it make economic sense?

By Maurice Oniang’o

Sugarcane farming in Kenya is viewed as a prestigious venture in areas it is grown yet most of those who depend only on it live in abject poverty. Currently there are more than 250,000 small holder farmers in the country, who supply over 92 percent of sugarcane processed by millers.
The sugar industry has been facing a myriad of problems some of which have now trickled down to farmers, impoverishing them more and causing many of them to do away with sugarcane farming. A cross section of farmers that I spoke to believe that the industry is headed towards downfall if various stakeholders do not come to its rescue.
Fifty Eight year old Protus Echesa has been doing sugarcane farming for over three decades in Mumias, Kakamega County, home to Mumias Sugar Company, Kenya’s biggest sugar miller. Echesa is a farmer contracted by Mumias Sugar Company which means he provides land and the factory provides farm input which is deducted after harvesting. He says that sugarcane farming today is less lucrative as compared to when he started it. “When I started sugarcane faming back in the 1980’s, we used to be paid less but the payments were consistent, today we are get nothing,” Said Echesa.
One of the challenges he and other farmers face is delay in payments and high interest rates. He says that initially they used to be paid a fortnight after supplying but nowadays payments may take up to five months and above. “If you supply sugarcane and they take five months to pay you, how are you going to pay school fees, how are you going to carter for your family needs?” he questions. The father of four has been depending on sugarcane farming for his family upkeep. His eldest daughter is currently in university, another in high school and the rest in primary school.

Protas Echesa contracted farmer by Mumias Sugar Company

Protas Echesa contracted farmer by Mumias Sugar Company

Echesa shows me one of his statements which he supplied approximately 87 tons of sugarcane at a cost of 3200 shillings. This earned him about 278,000 shillings but the deductions and interest totaled to 273,000 shillings. He blames the factory for charging poor farmers exorbitant interest rates.
“I have been chasing payments for this statement and five months later I have not received a penny not to mention that it is only 5000 shillings from a total of 273,000 shillings, so how do I provide for my family?” added a disappointed Echesa. He has made endless trips to the factory but none bore fruits.
The story of delayed payments is told by many of the farmers in Mumias. Another challenge that farmers in Mumias face is the issue of debit returns or DR are commonly known there. A debit return means that the total amount of deductions by the factory for input supplied to a farmer and interest accrued is more than the total amount a farmer is supposed to earn leaving the farmer in debt.
This has become a phenomenon in the area and almost all farmers in the area have at one time or another received a debit return. They accuse the factory of foul play.

Echesa going through one of his statements with writer-Photo by Job Amenya

Echesa going through one of his statements with writer-Photo by Job Amenya

A statement

Echesa’s statement from which he was paid approximately 5000 shillings from the initial gross of over 200,000 shillings. Click to see details -Photo Maurice Oniang’o

Among the issues they raise include; the factory refusing to weigh the sugarcane on the farm, the factory weighing the sugarcane in their absence, high cost and poor transport from the farm to factory which causes cane spillage, faulty weigh bridges at the factory and corrupt factory officials.
Echesa too has not been spared. He supplied sugarcane worth approximately 86,000 shillings but the total deduction on farm input and interest accrued totaled approximately 96,000 shillings. “So when I went to collect my statement I was told that I owe the factory 10,000 shillings,’ he adds. This prompted him to diversify farming. He now does dairy and maize farming but still holds on to a large of sugarcane farm with the hope that the industry will improve and farmers will start making profits.

Statement indicating that Echesa owes Mumias Sugar Company approximately 10,000 shillings for sugarcane he supplied the miller-Photo Maurice Oniang'o

Statement indicating that Echesa owes Mumias Sugar Company approximately 10,000 shillings for sugarcane he supplied the miller. Click to see details-Photo Maurice Oniang’o

Farmers point at the lack of a strong sugarcane farmers union as one of the major cause of their woes. For instance Mumias farmers used to have a very strong organization called Mumias Out growers Company (MOCO) which they alleged was destroyed by corruption and selfish interests of its official.
According to Richard Ogendo, the Secretary General of Kenya Sugarcane Growers Association (KESGA), the industry is ailing because of various issues which include; high cost of production, dilapidated infrastructure, high taxation and weak regulations that do not protect the farmer. “We are in this state today because of the weak regulations that do not protect the farmer.” Said Ogendo. He adds that sugarcane farming does not make economic sense because the production cost for farmers is higher than what they get paid. “Currently we are being paid 3200 shillings per ton and our production cost is 3410 shillings per ton, but farmers never sit down to do the mathematics of money and time invested in their farms,” he added.
The KESGA Secretary General adds that the industry suffers a lot because of unregulated importation of cheap sugar and snuggling of sugar through various border points which flood the market denying local millers a chance in the market. He says that laxity by the industry’s regulator and corrupt powerful individuals is the reason for this. “For instance there is a lot of illegal sugar that comes in through Garissa, it passes over 15 roadblocks and still makes it to the supermarket shelves,” he quips.
Mumias East MP Ben Washiali concurs with the KESGA secretary general. The MP said that to revive the industry the influx of untaxed and contraband sugar we need strict and working regulations. Speaking to us at parliament grounds, the MP in whose constituency Mumias sugar company is said that his people suffer because of corruption.
“How do we import sugar that we need? Why do we not tax industrial sugar? You walk into a supermarket and you will find branded sugar yet they are not manufacturers,” says Washiali. He adds that some of this sugar packed and branded by local retail stores might be the untaxed and contraband sugar brought in from low cost producer nations. In Kenya production of one tone of sugar costs about 49,300 shillings while in Malawi it costs approximately 25,000 shillings. Some of this sugar is smuggled into the country. Early last year the Kenya Sugar Board seized 46,000 bags of imported duty free sugar worth Sh184 million.

Mumias East MP Ben Washiali has been vocal on issues affecting the sugar sector-Photo Maurice Oniango

Mumias East MP Ben Washiali has been vocal on issues affecting the sugar sector-Photo Maurice Oniango


A spot check in leading retail stores reveals that most of them are selling sugar their branded sugar cheaper than branded sugar by millers. For instance a 2KG sugar packed and labeled by various supermarkets ranged between 198 and 215 shillings while a 2 KG Mumias packaged sugar costs 240 shillings, Nzoia costs 225 shillings while Sony sugar costs 228 shillings.
The MP adds that when he took office in 2008 farmers were being paid 1800 shillings per ton and today they get paid 3200 shillings per ton but they take home negatives. “Farmers used to get money when cane was going for 1800 shillings per ton there must be something wrong that sugarcane is going at 3200 but farmers are getting DR’s,” He adds.
Speaking about the troubles faced by Mumias Sugar Company, the area MP says that the privatization process of the company has contributed to its problems. “When it was privatized we put the running of the factory into the hands of greedy people who looted the company’s resources jeopardizing other stakeholders,” he adds. He says that debit returns is a new way through which the miller is exploiting farmers in the area. He blames this on exorbitant transport rates, high interest rates as well as corrupt land surveyors. “We have a case where we resurveyed the farms belonging to farmers and where a farmer had an acre the surveyor had given them one and half or two acres. This affects the total earning of the farmer as they will be charged for the extra farm inputs they did not use,” he adds.
According to the now defunct Kenya Sugar Board list of registered sugar millers, we have nine sugar factories in the country. Among them Mumias Sugar Company, Nzoia Sugar Company, West Kenya Sugar Company, Butali Sugar Company, Chemilil sugar company, Muhoroni Sugar Company, South Nyanza Sugar company (SONY), Kibos Sugar and Allied Industry Ltd and Soin sugar company. We spoke to Nzoia Sugar Company Managing Director Saul Wasilwa to understand what his company and other millers face in the industry.
Stacks of 50 kg sacks of sugar in the warehouse in one of the sugar millers-Maurice Oniango

Stacks of 50 kg sacks of sugar in the warehouse on one of the sugar millers-Maurice Oniango


The MD says that the problems they face include old technology which causes high production costs, competition for sugarcane courtesy of new millers who entered the industry without having their own farmer’s base to sustain their productions, over taxation by the government and the issue of unregulated sugar which floods the market causing millers to operate on losses. “When you combine the issue of high cost of production, the effect of influx of contraband sugar then we are forced to delay paying farmers yet we are under obligation to pay them after 30 day but we are unable to pay them in time,” he says.
Even as millers complain of poor policies and the influx of illegal and unregulated importation of sugar as the genesis of their woes, they have come under sharp criticism from various quarters. For instance Mumias sugar company which is the biggest sugar factory in the country in terms of production and supply, has been facing a myriad of problems some of which is blamed on the management. Last year the company announced the sacking of it’s Chief Executive Peter Kibati. This was after an audit report by KPMG found him responsible for losses amounting to Sh1.1 billion, arising from the importation of sugar without the board’s approval. This also came at a time when the company recorded a loss of Sh.73 million in the six months that ended in December. The dwindling fortunes in the company resulted to its removal from NSE 20 Share Index firms by Nairobi Securities Exchange. The 20 share index is made up of 20 best performing blue chip companies on the NSE.
Analysts see this move by the NSE as harmful to the sugar sector. Steve Biko a market analyst says that the 20 share index is an index that covers all the sectors and removing Mumias Sugar Company means that the NSE is no longer tracking the performance of the sugar sector. He however says that the NSE had to do it considering the toxic levels Mumias shares had become in the market. “I think it was noble to remove them from the 20 share index so that they can go and put their house in order,” Said Biko. The company’s performance on the NSE has been slowly taking a dive from 55 shilling per share in 2008 to as low as 2.58 shillings today, about 20 fold decrement in share value. The shareholders bought the company’s shares at 49.50shillings from the State in a second IPO in 2007. The stock once touched a high of 55 shillings but that was not for long as it again touched an all time low of 2.30 shillings causing many shareholders to relinquish some of their shares at a loss.
As sugarcane farmers fault the millers for their misery in sugarcane farming and millers blame the national government for their tribulations in the sugar sector less has been said about county governments considering the fact that agriculture is now a devolved function. Nonetheless some of these county governments in sugar planting zones have been silently working to revive the sector. For instance in Kakamega County, a task force was formed to look into the issues facing the sugar sector and implementation of part of their report has started. The county assembly has also come up with a sugar bill that favors the farmers. According to Wycliffe Oparanya the governor Kakamega, over the year’s millers have had control of the sector giving room for them to exploit poor farmers. “At the moment the miller takes it all so we want a situation where we will separate the farmer from the miller,” said Oparanya. He says the dwindling fortune at Mumias Sugar Company has been caused by investing in various projects which have not broken even. Some of these projects include the ethanol plant, drinking water project and the generation of power project. He adds that the county government has already given the company 200 million shillings to pay the farmers their dues. He says this will be a revolving fund to the company in a bid to salvage it.
Richard Ogendo, Secretary General KESGA.

Richard Ogendo, Secretary General KESGA.


In September last year the government also released 1.1 billion shillings to pay sugarcane farmers whose factories have failed to pay them. However this did not go well with some stakeholders who feel that the government should address underlying issues affecting the sector rather than bailing out the millers every time they fail to pay farmers. “Farmers have gone without payment for more than five months. What we are seeing is tokenism you give factories money to pay farmers but you are not addressing the question what happened?” Says the Secretary General of KESGA.
Some stakeholders believe that sugarcane farming has become a political crop as the politics of the day dictate how farmers are treated. They point out that the industry witnessed a major positive change during the Kibaki’s era when the current Deputy President was the minister for agriculture. “When Moi was in power the industry suffered a lot then the Kibaki’s administration came in and Ruto really revived the industry but now the industry is at its lowest point and it seems like no one cares,” adds Ogendo.
Our efforts to reach Kenya Sugar Board to comment on the issues raised about the state of affairs in the industry futile as we were referred to the Agriculture, Fisheries and Food Authority (AFFA), a body recently formed through an act of parliament. AFFA takes over functions of ten agricultural parastatals among them the Kenya Sugar Board.
The contribution of the sugar industry on Kenya’s economy cannot be ignored as it employs about 10.7 million Kenyans who depend on it directly or indirectly for their livelihoods. The sub-sector accounts for about 15% of the agricultural Gross Domestic Product. The industry should be revived and the issues raised by various stakeholders looked into. This includes; strong regulations to curb cane poaching, the influx of untaxed and contraband sugar, improvement of technology used by millers, payment to farmers to be done on sucrose content rather than weight among others.

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YES, I AM CORRUPT BUT SO ARE YOU

By Maurice Oniang’o.

On the day after Boxing Day 2014, a deacon from my church was arrested for flouting traffic rules. The police officer who arrested him tried to solicit a 500 shillings bribe from him, but being a man of virtue, the deacon refused to give in. He was later taken to court and was fined 5000 shillings. This brought up a heated debate between my friend Alex and I. Alex argued that if the deacon had given the bribe he would have saved a cool 4500 shillings.I cannot blame Alex for his way of thinking because that is a logical thinking of an average Nairobian; if I am arrested I can buy my way out without reaching the police station or court. Giving out a bribe or ‘chai’ as commonly referred to, is not a big deal to some people. We give backhanders to the police, municipal council officials, government official daily to procure various services. This habit has earned Kenya a bad reputation both locally and internationally. For instance, last year while addressing his army Generals, Zimbabwe’s President Robert Mugabe, warned them against allowing his country to become “like Nigeria and Kenya, where you have to reach into your pocket to get anything done,” this ignited outrage from Kenyans who saw it as an insult as Zimbabwe is equally or more corrupt than Kenya.

But come to think of it, was this anger because of what President Mugabe said or was it because of the truth in what he said? You know you are in trouble when a fellow witch accuses you of witchcraft and that is exactly what President Mugabe did. More recently, last week, a United Kingdom court convicted two executives of Smith and Ouzman Ltd, a British firm after they were found guilty of making corrupt payments to various individuals in various countries in Africa including Kenya to win business for the company. The two were accused of paying bribes dubbed ‘chicken’ to Kenyan electoral and examination executives and in their defense, they pleaded with the court arguing that it is a normal practice to pass something to Kenyan officials before winning a contract.

After the Mwai Kibaki’s Narc took over government from KANU in 2002, they vowed to wipe out endemic corruption, which I think they did fairly well in the beginning. That is when they started the zero tolerance to corruption which called upon all Kenyans to take an active role in the fight against corruption. This had a significant impact on the fight against graft, but that culture is slowly changing as today most of us only see corruption where large amounts of money is involved or ‘grand corruption as commonly referred to, which is always practiced by business cartels, politicians and high ranking government officials.

Headquarters for the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission-Photo Google Images

Headquarters for the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission-Photo Google Images

It is a fact that this country has lost billions to corrupt deals linked to high ranking individuals. In fact, all our governments have had their own share of corruption scandals i.e. Moi’s administration; the Goldenberg scandal, the Kibaki’s administration; Anglo-leasing, maize and petroleum scandal and the Kenyatta’s government; the laptop project scam and the standard-gauge railway scam. So I agree that grand corruption has messed us big time, but I believe we all have a role to play. We cannot fight grand corruption if we, ‘law abiding citizens’ still give out bribes. Though a friend argues that fighting graft is like drinking water in a bottle, you start from the top going down. I agree and disagree with that. We can help the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission (EACC) by avoiding engaging in petty corrupt deals as well as giving them any information that leads to apprehend any corrupt person.

Ironically those of us complaining about corruption in this country or the inefficiency of the anti-graft body are the instigators of corrupt deals. Take for instance, a close relative of mine working for a civil society organization that champions for good governance, called recently to ask if I knew anyone at the immigration offices in Nairobi. She needed a passport and according to her she could only get one in good time if she knew someone who works there. Bringing to life the belief that you have to know someone to procure certain services in good time. “Do you know anyone at Nyayo house who will speed up the process for me? I will give him or her some small ‘soda’,” she said. By ‘soda’ she meant a bribe.

I asked her why she wanted to use money to procure what she can get without a corrupt deal considering the fact that I got mine within the stipulated time without issuing any bribe. She retorted ‘Hii ni Kenya boss, lazima utoe soda ndio uharakishiwe kupata passport,’ (This is Kenya; you have to give a bribe so that you get a passport in good time). She had not even gone to the immigration to try with the right channel first. I convinced her to apply first without engaging in a shady deal which she accepted on condition that I help her with queuing and other procedures. To my understanding she wanted to get into a corrupt deal so as to avoid the standard procedures set by the immigration department. She wanted to pay someone to do it for her as she goes with her business and wait for a phone call to go collect it. All along she was ranting of how officers in this department are corrupt. This kept me thinking; what is corruption or who is corrupt? Between the person giving and the one receiving a bribe, who is corrupt?

If today I pay city council security officer for my freedom after breaking a city by-law, who between us is corrupt? According to a police that I spoke to on anonymity, he admits that the police are corrupt but the public is equally corrupt. “We are all corrupt from our bosses to us the juniors but you members of the public are also very corrupt,” said the officer. He informs me that sometimes it is the people whom he arrests who initiate the corrupt deals. He adds that some cases when the arresting officer refuses to take a bribe and takes the culprit to the station, they get released after ‘greasing’ senior officer’s palms.

“Sometimes I take the bribe because I know that upon reaching the station this person will be released if he gives the bribe to my seniors,” he adds. The officer tells me that to curb this vice, EACC should not only arrest and prosecute the person receiving the bribe but also the person giving the bribe. He adds that although the anti-graft body says that even the person giving a bribe is guilty of corruption, not many have been arrested and prosecuted.

My recent encounters have got me thinking about the corruption levels in our country. Is corruption index measured by virtue of money involved? Do petty corrupt deals count? Are we ever going to succeed in the fight against corruption if we still engage in petty corrupt deals? Fact is all of us have a role to play. If you are used to giving or receiving bribes, stop doing so. If you never give out or receive bribes but you know someone who gives or receives a bribe, report them to the authority. Law abiding citizens should not suffer because of this form of sleaze, but the moment you keep quiet, you make yourself vulnerable to corrupt deals. Sadly we see people who engage in corruption but we do not inform authorities about it. And this kind of attitude hurts our society.

You see someone selling government mosquito nets that are supposed to be given free of charge to pregnant mothers and children and you keep quiet. You see a standard eight drop out buying a diploma certificate for whichever course and you keep quiet. Wait until the day you will be in a hospital bed and the nurse taking care of you is a standard seven dropout who bought a certificate from a corrupt college official. Speak out today before it is too late. Corruption is corruption no matter the amount of money or service involved and it is here to stay if we do not accept that this fight is not only for the EACC but a collective responsibility of all of us.

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Living off the dumpsite; A tale of underage boys living in Nairobi’s Dandora dumpsite.

By Maurice Oniang’o

It is just a few minutes past six in the morning and the Nairobi’s Dandora dumpsite is abuzz with activities. Here dozens of waste pickers are already up and in business ravaging through the trash for food, plastic materials, glass, and scrape metal amongst other things. They quickly seize upon trash once it is offloaded by incoming trucks. This is where the 850 tones of solid waste generated in Nairobi daily is brought.
However, this is not only a dumpsite but also home to hundreds of homeless people who have made their residence here, most of them being boys some as young as ten years old. Even though currently there is no specific data about underage boys living in the dumpsite, it is evident that we have more than 50 destitute underage boys living off the dumpsite. Their lives revolve around the dumpsite; they make their livelihoods from the dumpsite. This state of affairs is worrying because the number of underage boys living in the dumpsite is increasing by the day. Recently I visited the dumpsite where I met some of these boys.
Thirteen year old Simon Babji has been living off this dumpsite for the past one year. Simon moved into the dumpsite after his parents moved from their home in Korogocho slum and he could not track them. He was in boarding school and one day was sent home to bring fees arrears only to find out that his parents had moved out and neighbors did not know where they had moved to. “I tried looking for them but I did not get them so I decided to come and live here,” he says. One year later and Simon has never understood why his parents moved out without informing him or even making a point of looking for him. The standard six drop-out says that he has never looked for his parents again after he started living off the dumpsite. “I decided to come here and make a livelihood on my own,” he quips.

Thirteen year old Simon Babji, has been living off the Dandora dumpsite for over a year.

Thirteen year old Simon Babji who’s parents moved last year without his knowledge and has been living off the dumpsite ever since-Photo Oliver Ochanda.

Simon is not alone. His kind of life is replicated by many other under age boys living off the Dandora dumpsite. Two of his friends, Thomas and James Mwangi have made the dumpsite their home because of their parent’s marital issues.
‘I have been getting my genuine bread of life here at the Boma since I was 11 years old,’ says Thomas referring to the dumpsite, which residents commonly refer to ‘Boma’ a Swahili word meaning homestead. The fifteen year old has been living in the dumpsite for four years now. Thomas or ‘Tomah’ as fondly referred to by his mates says that his parents left him with his elder brother who took over the role of breadwinner. But after a while his brother fell sick and he could no longer pay school fees for Thomas or pay rent so they moved to the dumpsite. At that time Thomas was in standard four at Korogocho Primary School. He has never stepped into a class room again. Just like Simon, the disappearance of his parents resulted to him living at the dumpsite.
But for fifteen year old James Mwangi, frequent fights and a subsequent breakup of his parents is the reason he lives in the dumpsite. “I am here today because my parents separated and I was left with my mother yet my father was the family’s breadwinner,” Says James. He has been living off the dumpsite for four years now.

Fifteen year old Thomas has been living off the Dandora dumpsite for the past four years-Photo Oliver Ochanda

Fifteen year old Thomas has been living off the Dandora dumpsite for the past four years-Photo Oliver Ochanda

James Mwangi narrating about his daily struggles-Photo Oliver Ochanda

James Mwangi narrating about his daily struggles-Photo Oliver Ochanda

The three boys acknowledge the fact that life in this dumpsite is not easy. Every day they are faced with fights, struggles and conflicts among many other troubles they undergo. For easy survival at the dumpsite they have to operate in groups of three to ten. The group one belonged to was their family and this particular one was led by ‘Toma’ even though he is smaller in size than James, his experience and the respect he commands at the dumpsite makes him the perfect leader for the group. Here ones loyalty to the group is key considering the fact that they were not related by blood. “Here if you do not respect others you might be killed and people will forget that you once existed,” said Thomas. He adds that he has witnessed many brutal fights in the dumpsite which he never wants to find himself in. Some of this fights resulted to deaths.
The boys start their day at five in the morning and ends late in the night. They look for plastics and metals from the garbage offloaded here daily. They sell the plastics and metals they find and use that money for food on days that they do not find any food in the garbage. Their first priority each day is to look for food from a truck that brings in garbage from various airlines in the airport. The truck christened ‘NAS’ always comes twice in a day, very early in the morning at about six and in the afternoon at around three. The ‘Boma’ is always jubilated when the truck arrives as the young and old, women and men ran towards it. I stand aside to wait as the three boys join other waste pickers to find food on the truck. They search through the soggy trash each finding something feed on. The variety of foodstuff retrieved from the truck include; meat and chicken pie’s, meat and chicken burgers, different flavors of perfectly sealed juice, rice and stew, 1 liter milk bottles, powdered milk, sugar, tea bags, coffee, fruit salad, bread, doughnuts among other things.

The three boys going through trash for food, plastics and other valuables at the Dandora dumpsite-Photo Oliver Ochanda

The three boys going through trash for food, plastics and other valuables at the Dandora dumpsite-Photo Oliver Ochanda

After about 15 minutes of rummaging through the trash, one by one they leave carrying a polythene bag with their catch. The few that are left clear the truck which leaves immediately then birds and pigs also scavenge for food from what has been left. The three boys join me again and we leave to their territory to make breakfast. They are all carrying a plastic bag with food they retrieved.
To make breakfast, the three have a makeshift sufuria made from a two kilogram metallic can. They tear about six sachets of powdered milk and mix them with water in their ‘sufuria’. They then add to it two sachets of coffee and four sachets of sugar and they boil this mixture. After three minutes the breakfast is ready and they take it with burgers and doughnuts. Thomas tells me that on a lucky day like today they manage to find some juice which they will have for lunch. He says showing me the packet of sealed juice in plastic cans. On an unlucky day they wait for the evening batch from NAS. After the breakfast the three boys return to the dumpsite to look for plastics and metals from garbage vehicles that stream into the dumpsite all day.

The makeshift 'sufuria' used by the trio for cooking their meals-Photo Oliver Ochanda

The makeshift ‘sufuria’ used by the trio for cooking their meals-Photo Oliver Ochanda

Thomas, Simon and James making their breakfast-Photo Oliver Ochanda

Thomas, Simon and James making their breakfast-Photo Oliver Ochanda


Just like any other Kenyan child, the three boys deserve the right to be protected and raised up in a conducive environment as well as the right to get an education and the trio knows too well the importance of being in school. “If I was not here today, I would have been in school just like any other child like me,” said Simon, a sentiment that his other mates concurred with.
The three hopes for a better tomorrow and they all have future dreams and aspirations which might go to the drain if no one comes to the rescue of this vulnerable boys living of the dumpsite. Simon dreams to be a teacher in future and Thomas aspires to be a doctor when he grows up. “I would really love to go back to school and achieve my dream of becoming a successful musician so that I can help these children at the dumpsite,” said James. He adds that if he continues living at the dumpsite he will never achieve those dreams.

Here’s the TV version of the story

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Survival Through The Gun

By Maurice Oniang’o
Protection of citizens from any form of external aggression is the sole mandate of the central government who’s responsible of protecting its borders. However, this is not the case in Kanamkuny village in Turkana North.

Here, villagers are forced to battle out with members of the Merille community from Ethiopia who frequently raid their village. Conflict between the villagers and the Merille also known as Daasanach from Southern Ethiopia dates back to the 1950’s. Cattle raiding, grazing grounds, competition for natural resources and ethnic differences are some of the reasons for the conflict. This has worsen up with the availability of guns to the two leaving dozens of people dead, scores injured and many residents homeless. Many of those killed during the raids are men leaving their responsibilities to their widows and children.

To explore more about Kanamkuny and its residents’, predicament I decided to visit the village. In the company of my colleague Mike Mulure and Ramathan Ekitela, resident Lodwar, we leave for Kanamkuny, 200 kilometres from Lodwar town, a journey that will take us four hours. Here I am welcomed with the harsh reality of insecurity evident with the high number of men walking around with guns. Ekitela informs me that in this side of the world, a gun is a must-companion for all men and in some instances, women too are forced by circumstances to go their day to day activities with automatic rifles on their shoulders for retaliation in case of an attack. I realized that out of every five men we met along the way, at least three of them were carrying a gun. The G3 and AK 47 being the most common rifles around.

Men patrolling along the border in Todonyang- Photo By Mike Mulure

Men patrolling along the border in Todonyang- Photo By Mike Mulure

Sparing a few minutes with the men-Photo Mike Mulure

Sparing a few minutes with the men-Photo Mike Mulure


The more we approached Todonyang, the less people we met. Here the atmosphere was tense and I could read fear in Ekitela’s voice each time he saw people coming towards us. ‘We are in a very dangerous area. The Merille killed four people in this area and we are not sure if they are gone,’ said Ekitela. He added that the Merrile are experts in camouflaging themselves in the environment.
Finally, we reached Kanamkuny village and I realized the situation was worse than I thought. Here small boys some looking as young as 12 years are walking around with firearms loaded with bullets and ready to attack. I speak to one such boy, 12 year old Lorunye Emekwe who owns a gun. His childhood innocence taken away by the callousness of insecurity. He says that he inherited this gun from his father who was killed by Ethiopian militia during a raid in their village.
Twelve year old Lorunye Emekwe whose childhood innocence has been deprived of due to insecurity along the Kenya-Ethiopia border-Photo Mike Mulure

Twelve year old Lorunye Emekwe whose childhood innocence has been deprived of due to insecurity along the Kenya-Ethiopia border-Photo Mike Mulure

Lorunye undertaking his daily duty of herding his family's  goats- Photo Mike Mulure

Lorunye undertaking his daily duty, herding his family’s goats- Photo Mike Mulure


After his father died, lorunye took up the responsibility of providing and protecting his family as well as herding the family’s goats, which he says cannot be done without the gun. ‘I was given this gun by my mother to protect me from the Merille when I am in the field herding,’ he says. Lorunye is the first born son in a family of two. He currently stays with his mother and little brother. He says that he was taught on how to use and handle the gun by his late father. And he passes this on by taking time to teach his peers on how to use the weapon. ‘I usually teach my friends on how to use the gun when we are in the field herding,’ He says. He adds that it is important for all the boys to know how to use the gun because when the enemy strikes they kill everyone irrespective of their age.
Although his face and voice depicts a shy boy, his courage and prowess is evident when he holds the gun. He proved his mastery in handling the machine when he dismantled his AK 47 gun, cleaned it inside, assembled it back and loaded the magazine with bullets before fixing it back on the gun. All this he did with ease just like a trained security personnel.
'This is how you hold the gun when aiming your target'- Lorunye

‘This is how you hold the gun when aiming your target’- Lorunye

Lorunye assembling back parts of his AK 47 riffle after dismantling and cleaning it-Photo Mike Mulure

Lorunye assembling back parts of his AK 47 riffle after dismantling and cleaning it-Photo Mike Mulure


Despite his tender age, Lorunye says he was once caught in the middle of a battle when they were raided in Todonyang, adding that this was the first time he used a gun. ‘I have used the gun once when the Merille tried to raid our cattle near Todonyang. We fought for about two hours but nobody was injured and the merille’s did not manage to take away our property so they left and we came back,’ said Lorunye.
He further explain how people from his village get the bullets from a neighboring village called Meyian in exchange with goats. ‘If you have one mature he-goat you get 20 bullets if you have two you get 40 bullets,’ quips Lorunye. He says the use of the bullets depends on when they are raided and for how long a fight stays.
Lorunye with the remaining bullets from a previous fight

Lorunye with his remaing bullets from a previous battle


He however laments the security situation in the area which he says has denied him a chance to be in school. Lorunye is a former beneficiary of Child Fund, an international charitable trust that aid deprived, marginalized and vulnerable children living in poverty. He was schooling in a nearby school called Lowareng primary school and he was in class three when he stopped going to school to look after his family’s goats. He believes that the situation will one day change for the better. ‘My future dream is to go back to school, finish my education, get a job and come back to help my people.’ He adds.
I also spoke to Arukudi Ng’echwaye, lorunye’s mother who is still at pain of losing her husband to Ethiopian militia attack. She says that their village has been forgotten by subsequent Kenyan governments. ‘Here we live by the grace of God because He is our protector. The government of Kenya doesn’t recognize us as Kenyans,’ she adds. She says that it pains her to see her son leave every morning to go herding carrying a gun not sure whether he will come back in the evening or not.
Arukudi Ng'echwaye, mother of 12 year old Lorunye

Arukudi Ng’echwaye, mother of 12 year old Lorunye

She desires to see her son go to school but circumstances dictates otherwise. ‘I just wish that one day the government will come to prevent the Merille’s from coming to our land and a school built near that my son can go back to shape his future,’ she says.
I speak to Christopher Nakuleu, area Member of Parliament asking him about the issue of insecurity in the area. According to him the constituency looses an average of 20 people due to attacks by militia from neighboring countries. He says that due to the inadequacy of the government to provide security in the area, locals have been forced to find their own internal mechanisms in insuring security in their villages.
‘That is why you find some young boys and even girls having these weapons, it is because of lack of government presence on the ground. In fact, if you go round the border zone the government is not present. The presence of government is not visible. The border is purely manned and protected by the locals,’ adds the MP. He says that the security issue is a reality that needs to addressed in the quickest way possible to end the senseless killings by militia from neighboring country.

MY SENTIMENTS……..
After spending two days in the village and witnessing the hardships the villagers go through thanks to insecurity, poverty, lack of basic amenities etc, I left a miserable man. Angered with the system! Why are residents of Kanamkuny village neglected? Why would we let these helpless civilians ‘protect’ our border? Are they less Kenyans than we are?
My heart goes out to 12 year old Lorunye and all those children facing the same plight for i know as my little brother, cousin,relative, friend,neighbor wakes up takes breakfast then collects books and heads to school, his age mate in Todonyang (Lorunye Emekwe) wakes up checks his family’s goats collects gun that is loaded with bullets and heads to the field to herd all day long!
My take: If we keep on turning on a blind eye on the issue we will be answerable to the future generations!
As for me I have played my part and THANK YOU to all those(Individuals and Organizations) who have shown interest of helping out the boys.
#ReplaceTheGunWithBooks
More pictures

Lorunye training a friend on how to use an AK 47 riffle

Lorunye training a friend on how to use an AK 47 riffle

Lorunye taking me through the basics on how to handle a firearm

Lorunye taking me through the basics on how to handle a firearm

Time to put into practice what Lorunye has taught me

Time to put into practice what Lorunye has taught me

Lorunye with his mother and little brother at home

Lorunye with his mother and little brother at home

Fifteen Year old Loyiane Ekai Resident Todonyang with his riffles

Fifteen Year old Loyiane Ekai, a Resident Todonyang with his riffle


Interviewing Lorunye

Interviewing Lorunye

Television version of the story. Aired on Tazama on KTN in December 2013

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Three Months on…….

By Maurice Oniang’o

Celebrating 'SuperEditor'-Erick Jura

Celebrating ‘SuperEditor’-Erick Jura

They call it death; but I call it departure….Gone never to return,

This day marks exactly three months when we lost a friend, brother and colleague,

Do you know how it feels to lose a close friend, a friend close like a brother?

How you go through grief and pain?, I know how it feels,

At first I thought that time will wash away the pain of loosing him,

I thought that slowly by slowly maybe the big hole he left will be filled,

I thought that maybe something just something in someway will erase the grief,

But no I was wrong, I was lying to myself,

The pain is still real, the lose still unbearable,

Still trying to ease the shock, the pain, the anguish,

still trying to accept the fact that he is long gone, gone never to come back again,

Though it is painful, I comfort myself because I know that he is gone to a better place,

Sometimes I just want to see his face and talk to him……

I keep the fond memories, the times and moments I shared with him,

Each time I miss him, I listen to the favorite music we used to listen together,

Each time I feel like calling out his name, I take a moment and reminiscence on the times we shared,

Though he is gone, I keep the memories alive!

Jura it is three months since you went away,

Though it is hard to believe that you are gone…………….

I will miss you all days of my existence, even though life has to go on, I still grieve and wish you were here….Just A Moment!

Here’s some music that reminds me of Erick. Music that we used to listen together

Crossroads

Bang bang bang

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