Turkana

What if Turkana could speak? It did; here’s an excerpt!

Turkana – the forgotten bride

Over the years, changes have been observed in every corner of this globe. Globalization and modernization have made sure of that. Kenya has risen to be one of the highest performing developing countries. As you will notice throughout this “rant” I, Turkana, choose positivity over negativity. That said, spare me all your negative energy. God knows I’ve had enough of that. Kenya is moving forward. Look at the improved infrastructure, increased investment from local and international companies alike…

Raw bliss

Your streets have been given a cavernous quality by the ever rising sky scrapers. Me, on the other hand? All I received was a sorry-about-that wave. This is despite being rich in more ways than one. I have given birth to talent. The legendary Ajuma graces screens across the world with such refinement that only a few can give. You run to Dubai, and leave behind my endless desert land. I have incredible crater lakes that are barely known. The crocodile Crater Lake, for instance, is the largest breeding ground for crocodiles in the world. Lake Turkana is the largest permanent desert lake in the world.

Turkana

Turkana

The impressive Crocodile Crater Lake

Turkana

Least visited reserve in Kenya?

Turkana

Boats are better than therapy 😉

Turkana

Cradle of mankind

I housed your history since time immemorial. As the cradle of mankind, all one would hope for is appreciation. I received none of that. Unless you’re talking about drought, Turkana is a gone case. I know there is a joke about me not being in Kenya. Well, I wish it was just that. My seed does not have access to some of the most basic commodities Kenyans consider a luxury. For years, we stood in voting lines with barely any food in our bellies. Voting in people who perpetuate this unfortunate cycle. Matter of fact, I doubt the government knows our real number. Census officials are hired from other counties. Since they cannot withstand the extreme weather conditions, our numbers are left to their creativity.

Ouarzazate! Anyone? No? Okay ;)

Ouarzazate! Anyone? No? Okay 😉

Turkana

Photo of the “Turkana boy”, courtesy of the very able Know my Kenya

Siren song

I recently made news due to the oil discovery. I’m still not sure how the fruit of my womb will benefit. Besides greatly politicizing the issue, there is clearly no definite plan on how my children fit into the bigger picture. I offer numerous investment opportunities. Solar energy could be tapped at minimal costs given I average 400C. Wind energy is also not an exemption.

Turkana

Lake Turkana with Central Island in the background

This is not a call for handouts. Far from that, it breaks my heart. You have perpetuated “poverty tourism” with me as the main player. This has to stop. Just like any Kenyan, we can be self-sufficient. Poverty has made you treat me like a leper. Whether self-imposed or not, alienating me brings up the question of empathy. That my seed is dying of hunger in the 21st century is mind boggling.

Turkana

There’s room for everyone 🙂

Ignore mainstream media; they thrive on negativity. Give me a chance to entertain your families. If you visit, drought and hunger will be a non-issue. Come learn about our rich culture. Eat our 90kg fish. Invest here. The possibilities are endless.

Everyone struggles with insecurities at one point or the other. That you overcame them means that anything is possible. Give me a chance to rise.

Turkana

My sun sets to rise again 🙂

Turkana is ripe for progress. I am ready for change. Hungry for a fresh start. I lay bare like a clueless virgin, hoping that my cry will awaken your souls. It should no longer be business as usual. One of you is in pain.

Cheers to hope!

Sincerely,

Turkana County.

 

 

 

You may also like

1 Comment

  • kayne
    March 16, 2017 at 5:55 am

    interesting read. i love it

LEAVE A COMMENT

About Wachera

wachera

wachera

I can’t keep calm! That’s probably the worst tag line ever, but it’s true. I have tried finding fulfilment from settling down and focusing on one activity and place, but I failed terribly. Okay, I should probably start by telling you who I am. My name is Wachera, a daughter of the African soil. Just recently, I realized that Wachera is native for “the one who loves travelling” . Read more

Contact Us

Your Name (required)

Your Email (required)

Subject

Your Message