One man, one shilling: My Marsabit odyssey

Visiting Marsabit County last week for the first time, I couldn’t help but admire the people’s undying spirit in a place considered insecure and unattractive.

Upon arrival, I was shown the hillside as you approach Marsabit town, the site of the air crash that killed 14 peace ambassadors on April 10, 2006. From Marsabit Central, Turbi, Loyangalani to North Horr, the excruciating terrain makes visitors feel they aren’t in Kenya anymore. I was to be asked: ‘Habari ya Kenya?’

Earlier, I freaked out when told that our D-Max double-cab wasn’t suitable. We quickly got a Land Cruiser. Even with police escort, and as the 4x4 truck screeched through the emptiness, we met local Gen-Zs moving around, some holding on to their rusty weapons.

The fear of being ‘cut off’ from Kenya was more real, not just a hyperbolic rhetoric. In my stopovers, the large numbers of ‘outside’ communities working in Marsabit County struck me. Waitresses, drivers, hoteliers, guards and other service providers.

They’re mostly from faraway counties like Kakamega, Kisii, Homa Bay and Nyeri. But the highlight was how these communities have gelled with each other. In the evenings, they would enjoy roast goat meat together. There’s ‘Pale Pale Club’ at the heart of Marsabit CBD that’s a bastion of tribal unity.

Theirs is a reminder that each Kenyan has a stake in every part of the nation. However, despite the out-of-this-world hospitality, good tarmac to Mandera and well-lit streets in Marsabit town, the county still gives off the scruffy image of a place bogged down by age-old challenges relating to funding gaps, insecurity or simply poor priorities by the leadership.

Marsabit neighbours Ethiopia and covers 70,691.2 km². It’s home to the Gabra, Rendille, Borana and 11 other indigenous groups. Together with its neighbours, one would tell even from a cursory look that the devolved units have problems exhibiting a common thread.

While growth indicators like infrastructure, trade, production, and investments are all shaping up well in Marsabit, Wajir, Mandera and Garissa counties or what used to be the Northern Frontier District, the quality of life generally for the rural majority is pitiable.

World Bank estimates the region’s poverty levels at 70 per cent, compared to 58 per cent national average. Electricity access is at a paltry 7 per cent, while only 45 per cent of households have access to safe water, and only 36 per cent enjoy improved sanitation. It’s still a long way to go.

Exactly my point. The emotive debate on revenue sharing must go beyond the political din. Ignoring glaring economic disparities and the necessity of affirmative action is short-sighted. The north, a victim of insurgency and banditry in yesteryears, cries out for more tailor-made interventions to attain better transport, security, markets, clean water, housing and other amenities.

All patriots should pay ‘homage’ to the region and see if further socio-economic relegation will fix or perpetuate its problems. Whether it’s Marsabit, Turkana, Migori, Tana River, Embu, Murang’a or Samburu, it’s all about Kenya. Having a few thriving counties while others lag is imprudent. Lest we forget, the train moves at the speed of the slowest wagon.

Further delaying northern Kenya’s economic takeoff because of political interests – talk of the ‘one man one shilling and one vote’ supported by Raila Odinga and Rigathi Gachagua – will lead to imbalance and inequality of opportunities hard to redeem. It can be a poisoned chalice.

The current revenue sharing basis, the third since 2013, looks into basic share (20 per cent), population (18 per cent), health (17 per cent), poverty level (14 per cent), agriculture (10 per cent), roads (eight per cent), land (eight per cent) and urban aspects at five per cent.

We can improve this formula without shenanigans and push for robust county integrated development plans to bring plenty to our land. Let’s spread benefits of devolution and our oneness.

-The writer is a communications practitioner. X:@markoloo