Ungovernable Frontiers (Kainuk)
Last Updated on October 14, 2025 by Turkana County News Online
By Lolem Peter
Kainuk reminds us
of the painful past of 1992.
It is there we cried—
until our tears forgot their way.
Buried sons.
Lost brothers.
In Kainuk today, even silence has learned to scream.
They no longer come for cattle—
they come for land,
for control,
for power.
And with every raid,
our borders are redrawn
in blood.
We have seen the soldiers—
they too cry,
marching through dust with rifles raised—
yet still, the gunfire echoes no peace.
When people rise against injustice,
it is not rebellion—
it is the cry of a people
whose natural rights were abandoned.
When leadership loses moral direction,
the whole society bleeds.
It is a moral collapse.
Because without trust,
survival replaces morality.
And without coordination,
justice becomes a ghost.
Here, death waits for no darkness.
Hyenas feast on our kin—
because we could not bury them
as our culture demands.
So what do we do?
We survive to live.
Because in Kainuk,
life itself is survival.
Turkana’s poverty
was never born of the sun,
but of silence—
and justice that never came.
Yet we are still here.
Not done.
Because unless we shout,
the wound keeps reopening—
and we keep enlarging it
with our pain.
