Feature - Marginalised Turkana vie with refugees

The violence that followed a cattle-rustling incident last month in Kakuma refugee camp, northwestern Kenya, was unprecedented in its deadly impact. Displacing 30,000 people and killing two Turkana, nine Sudanese, and one Ethiopian caught in the crossfire, the effects are still being felt four weeks later. Some of the families who live on the edge of the camp are still too scared to return to their homes, while the families of the dead mourn their loved ones, and camp authorities try to ascertain what the real reasons were behind the escalation in violence. MUTUAL DISTRUST Famed for its insecurity, weekly murders were being reported when Cosmas Chanda, the head of the UNHCR sub-office in Kakuma, took up his post in June. Yet the killing of 12 people in a two-day spree reached a new intensity, forcing UNHCR, the local Turkana community and the Sudanese refugees with whom they were fighting to take a closer look at the dynamics of their relationships. After at least a dozen meetings between leaders of both the Turkana and the Sudanese communities, Chanda believes the origins of the conflict lie in rivalry between two communities with similar value systems. For both the Sudanese Dinka and the Turkana, cattle ownership is a way of life, a means of trading and paying dowries, and a manifestation of a person’s worth. The Turkana have managed to maintain a traditional lifestyle - assisted greatly by the proliferation of arms in this largely unpoliced part of Kenya - in which cattle-rustling plays an important role. "For a man to be recognised in society, he needs to be able to raid [cattle]," says Chanda. But while the Dinka of southern Sudan have similar values, they are forbidden from keeping cattle in Kakuma camp - to which they are confined - which has eroded both their material wealth and their sense of identity and worth. Chanda believes the resulting tension is a key instigating factor in the frequent violence between the two communities. The resulting rivalry and bitterness was made worse in June by the "strong and negative rumours" that were circulating when the fighting began, says Chanda. Both communities heard that thousands of their kinsmen had already been killed by their rivals, leading to some Turkana travelling as far as 200 km to get involved, he added. Santino Monybot, who heads the Sudanese community in Kakuma, told IRIN that when the refugees began to arrive in Kakuma in 1992, they were advised by Kenyan government officials to make friends with their Turkana neighbours. But the regular raids on the camp, looting of their few possessions, killing of their community and raping of their women made it impossible. Elizabeth Nyadit, a refugee woman, says “I dislike them, because they dislike me also. Since 1992 they have been trying to kill us, it’s always going on.” Others say there is no bad feeling between the two communities, just competition. “There’s no bad blood between us, it’s just theft on both sides,” said Joseph Ekleu, a Dinka elder in the camp. “A criminal is a criminal, it’s very hard to control.” MARGINALISED TURKANA The Turkana, who live in an intensely hot and arid desert region, have long been recognised as one of Kenya’s most marginalised ethnic groups, both by the government and the humanitarian community. In 1992 there were about 7,000 Turkana living around Kakuma refugee camp, while today there are about 45,000. "Relief is the only industry here," says Chanda of UNHCR. "We guarantee water, health and education so they congregate here." The 88,000 refugees, on the other hand, are comparatively better off, say many observers. The small size of the camp means that a wide range of services and benefits are available from NGOs and UN agencies. Unable to own cattle or cultivate, they are also given regular food handouts. Deborah Elijah Agok, a Sudanese woman, says the Turkana feel antagonistic because of their own food shortages. "They don't like us because we get rations, and they are very hungry," she says. "They are angry because they have dry land. " 'Old Ellen', a Turkana community leader, agrees. “Why are the Dinka fed, when the Turkana are not? My people don’t understand where the food is coming from.” On top of the competition for humanitarian assistance, the Turkana feel that local police, sent by the Kenyan government to quell the violence, took sides in the conflict. “The government forces are taking sides with the refugees. They have been given orders to shoot to kill any Turkana carrying an arm,” says Ellen. KEEPING A LID ON THE VIOLENCE As relative calm now prevails in the camp, the symbiotic relationship between the two communities remains intact. Between NGO procurements and direct trade, an estimated 1,000,000 ksh (over US $13,000) exchanges hands around Kakuma every day. Commitments have been made by leaders on both sides to keep the peace. They have also been given radios to report further incidents to the police. The Kenyan government, for its part, is increasing the number of police posts around Kakuma from one to four. Kiplagat Tarus, a district officer in the region, told IRIN there were now about 50 police around Kakuma and that it was "well covered". While the refugees have welcomed this initiative, and say it is the first time any genuine effort has ever been made to protect them, experts say that policing alone will not solve the problem. Unless development is prioritised for the Turkana, the rivalry between the two communities will inevitably continue. And unless the Turkana are disarmed, the refugees - many of whom are women and children - will continue to remain at a disadvantage. "It may be calm right now", says 'Old Ellen', "but the feud is certainly not over. This is not the end, it will keep recurring.”