A quick google of the words famine, drought and Africa brings up a remarkable number of articles and blog posts. The Guardian in the UK has a terrific blog called Poverty Matters and recent posts include a review of a book, “Pastoralism and Development in Africa” as well as a
The sun was setting as we gathered in the shade of Amina’s huts in Korr. Kura had arranged for me to meet with the Bayo Savings Group and I recognized many faces. Over steaming cups of sweetened goat milk tea, we shared stories and laughed. The women poked fun at
A few months ago, Kura and I were sitting by the Ewaso Nyiro River in Samburu. After a 12 day trip in the field, we were enjoying watching a family of elephants play in the river. Kura was in a reflective mood. “You know, Mama Rungu,” Kura said, “we have
Our journey through Laisamis district continued to be challenging. The rain had stopped but it took days for the muddy, clay roads to dry out. We got stuck on numerous occasions but soldiered on and actually made it across the Kaisut Desert in time for lunch in Korr. Doug had
The clouds had been gathering for days before our final night at Sirikoi Camp. During the early hours, cracks of thunder could be heard in the distance. Lightening lit up the roof of our tent. At dawn we heard a pride of nearby lions who growled and whoofed their displeasure.
Corwin and I do a morning game drive in Samburu – not as exciting as the night before – but we are still rewarded with the extraordinary sight of another leopard. As we drive out of the park, Kura and I take David and Corwin past the dead elephant that
The campsite run by the Isgargaro Women’s group in Loglogo used to be my favorite place to stay during my visits to the area. Over the years, however, the accommodations in other locations have greatly improved, while Isgargaro’s huts and buildings have slowly been devoured by termites and poor maintenance.
A day of rest was all we needed. I felt better and Kura was ready to move. It is hard for people who have left villages like Korr to then return home. The cultural expectation to provide support and money to others is overwhelming. At each village we visit, it
Our time in Loiyangalani includes a few trips to swim in Lake Turkana, about a mile west of town. Brushing aside thoughts of crocodiles, we douse our sun-scorched bodies in the cool water. On our final night, Turkana dancers meet us on the shoreline as the sun sets. Everyone joins
At 6 am, our group leaves in two vehicles. I am driving Gumps with Semej and Omar, Kit, Chip and Corwin. Kura has David, Maina and a dozen other passengers under canvas in the back of the Defender. We will drive from Korr to Loiyangalani through a semi-desert land that