Youths keep guard at Silale near Nadome in Baringo County on Tuesday after raiders attacked the area, killing almost 70 people. [PHOTO:BONIFACE THUKU/STANDARD]

When tribal wars go overboard and grab the attention of a whole nation, then introspection is a must. Since the Jubilee government came into power, death has robbed the forsaken lands of Turkana, Pokot and Samburu of hundreds.

The latest bout of violence left almost 70 men, women and children dead. Some were shot, some speared, others had their throats slit and left to bleed out on the black volcanic rocks that define the rough terrain.

How many more Kenyans should breathe their last as a result of a bullet to the head, a spear through the chest or a blade across the neck before the government ends the bloodbath once and for all?

The Turkana-Pokot clashes are an ancient phenomena morphed by modern challenges. On October 31 last year, suspected Pokot bandits ambushed police officers at Kasarani area of Kapedo in Turkana County, killing 21.

After such tragic loss of life, a heavier security presence was needed in the area. Thus, the deployment of not only additional police reinforcement, but the military too. With this, the pacification process was well underway. But for the inhabitants of this region, pacification remains a word on paper behind which lies the true cost of peace in the volatile North Rift region.

Strict movement

Even the KDF that enforced strict movement in the area barely six months ago was pulled out. The additional police reinforcement was nowhere in sight.

“I can confirm to you that our soldiers are no longer in Turkana. I cannot disclose when this was done,” KDF spokesperson Col David Obonyo told The Standard on Sunday.

“However, if need arises, they can always be redeployed to the area.”

Logic demands that one asks why the military was pulled out of Kapedo barely six months into the operation, with limited success on the initial aims of their deployment. The army remains deployed in other volatile parts of the country such as Lamu and Garissa.

In November, last year, The Standard on Sunday visited Kapedo and talked to the military personnel on the ground. Their aim was not only to oversee and keep the peace, but also, in conjunction with other security units, preside over a mopping up of illegal firearms. It remains unclear how many firearms were recovered from the community. Even more blurred is the number of firearms in the wrong hands.

“All we know is that they are many,” Jacktone Orieng, an Assistant County Commander in Turkana, told The Standard on Sunday in the heat of the aborted Kapedo military operation last year.

Orieng said the government was hesitant to bring the warring communities together until a disarmament programme among the Turkana and the Pokot was developed.

A June 2014 study by the UK-based organisation, Small Arms Survey, estimated that between 530,000 and 680,000 firearms are in civilian hands illegally. A bulk of these in Turkana and West Pokot.

And with such a number of high calibre weapons, these seemingly and deceptively calm and picturesque war fields are bound to periodically be converted into arenas of a brutal blood sport often trivialised as tribal rivalry by an absent government and a people whose allegiances are pledged on something else other than the sanctimony of human life.

At the centre of these murderous waves of violence though is a booming contraband business starring area warlords with an unquenchable thirst for profit from a lucrative arms trade.

In 2002, Human Rights Watch sounded the alarm over Kenya’s role in the trafficking and trading of arms in a scathing attack at the laissez faire attitude of the government on this issue.

“Kenya has long been a major transit point for weapons shipments destined to war-torn countries in the Great Lakes region of Africa. For example, a large weapons shipment destined to Burundi passed through Kenya’s Mombasa port before being impounded by Ugandan authorities in October 1999,” read part of the 2002 report.

Thriving business

More than a decade later, the business thrives with locals living side by side with known gun runners. “The people and the families involved are known. But they are protected by the community because to them, they are heroes. They provide a means to securing the tribe against its enemies,” Peter Adomong’ura, an elder in Chemosit, said.

He says some of these individuals have got themselves to elective positions simply by playing this seemingly important role. “You have seen how long it takes the government to come here. Tell me, if there was someone with rifles in his house at the time of attack, would we wait for the Administration Police to come to rescue us, or will we take up the arms and defend ourselves?” he asks.

The gun running routes are known. According to the Small Arms Survey, a huge quantity of weapons entered the private arms market with the fall of governments in Ethiopia (1991), Rwanda (1994), Somalia (1991) and Uganda (1979 and 1986), as well as conflicts in other African countries.

“Some governments in East and Central Africa have amply supplied rebel forces in other countries with guns and ammunition, thereby adding to the number of weapons in circulation. Fighters from wars in these countries are a prime source of weapons brought into Kenya, which they often sell for subsistence,” says the report.

And when the dynamics shift in these neighbouring unstable nations, weapons destined to different factions in these areas are almost certainly diverted to an unauthorised third party. The chain continues until the firearm gets to the Pokot or Turkana youth who will use the assault rifles in a raid.

“More often than not, the beneficiary of these raids is a long way from the scene. We know for a fact that some of the stolen cattle make it to major towns for slaughter, it is no longer about paying the bride price. Some of these criminal activities are perpetrated in the name of culture,” Interior Ministry Spokesman Mwenda Njoka said.

Njoka says the government is in no doubt that prominent individuals from these communities are involved in fanning these endless conflicts.

“The extent of their involvement is what we are determining now. We cannot rule out gun running or incitement. But soon they will be charged and they will face the full force of the law,” he said.

Back in November, Major Kyalo Muindi, the officer commanding Chesitet Camp, told The Standard on Sunday that the operation was “going according to plan”.

It is unclear how many guns were recovered in the disarmament programme but going by the recent killings, it would be safe to say that a lot more arms are in the hands of individuals.

“The government is doing all it can but we find ourselves weakened by legal complexities and local politics. It is a much more complex situation than it seems,” Njoka said. “It is an age-old problem that cannot be solved in one move.”

Adomong’ura says the communities at war recognise only one chain of command, and the central government is not it. Nairobi, as it often does, has spoken tough on the raiders. Policemen on the ground who are not authorised to speak on these matters told The Standard on Sunday that the pursuit of these bandits is yet to start.

“We are awaiting orders. These people disappear behind mountains and get lost in the hills. This is where they lay ambush from. You remember Kasarani?” an officer said. “As things look, the outcome of this war depends on their goodwill. If the raiders don’t surrender, this will not be the last time people are buried.”