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Photo: As the drought continues and food prices soar, children and families in Turkana are surviving on the most slender of means

Drought is not uncommon in the arid north of Kenya. But the increasing frequency of failed rains is unusual, and having a devastating impact on the resilience of local communities to survive food shortages.

Sharing a border with South Sudan, Ethiopia and Uganda, Turkana is a region distinctive for its high temperatures and wide expanses of desert and scrubland, only interrupted by two metre plus termite mounds and occasional strips of verdant green along river edges.

To the first time visitor, Turkana is a harsh, unyielding environment. Yet historically, while rainfall patterns are among the lowest in the country, the annual short and long rains have been mostly reliable, ensuring that there is just enough water to survive the difficult conditions.

Today, however, Kenya is experiencing yet another extreme food crisis, with those in the north most affected. Drought in 2014, followed by poor and below average rates of rainfall in both 2015 and 2016 have led to this critical situation.

Not only have crops failed and livestock suffered, but in emergency planning meetings my Kenyan colleagues have expressed serious concern about the knock-on effects of continued drought – food prices have increased by as much as 30 per cent, and continue to rise. For families already surviving on the most slender of economic margins, this hike in costs is completely beyond their means.

Worse still, there is a real fear that the 2017 rains will bring little relief. We are witnessing, after all, the very real impact of climate change in the region. What was once a 10-year cycle of drought in Kenya, now appears to be occurring every other year.

Communities here are not reliant upon agriculture €“ the dry conditions mean that arable land is in short supply, and crop cultivation is challenging, if not fruitless, in most of the county. Instead, families in Turkana are largely pastoralists. Camels, goats and cattle provide milk and meat for household purposes, and income to purchase necessities such as flour, oil and medicine.

In times of drought, these communities are completely reliant on their livestock; there are no alternative sources of food or income. As pastures have dried up, many families have been forced to move their animals to other parts of the country in search of water and grazing pastures. Many animals have died along the way.

In other families, the lack of food to sustain the livestock means they are not healthy enough to sell, and unable to provide nutrition for the family. They face almost certain death.

What is now emerging is a dangerous and life-threatening situation further complicated by the already vulnerable state of so many children. This is a population which has only just begun to recover after the extreme drought conditions of 2014.

Local communities have yet to build up income, livestock, and even their own health status. There has not been enough time for children and families to €˜fatten up` €“ they have no additional body reserves and limited emotional resilience from which to draw.

This is also true of the local geography. Aquifers, underground storehouses of water which provide an important water source in Turkana, have not had time to replenish, nor has the quality of the soil rebounded, essential for growing food for livestock. It is drier than it has ever been, and still the rains do not come.

Today, as the world looks on, children and families in Turkana are facing yet another period of drought already fragile, already susceptible to the worst impacts of hunger, and with few resources to support them. It is difficult to show strength in the face of adversity when the body is so frequently tested.

Unfortunately, time is no longer on our side. We cannot rely on the rains, we cannot rely on human resilience, which is in such short supply. We must act now before this crisis becomes catastrophic.

 

A birth certificate is a lifelong passport to many rights. Without it, a person cannot access public education, healthcare, and even legal systems.

In Kenya, a child without a birth certificate can’t be admitted to a public school, or register for the national exams needed for admission to secondary school and university. As unregistered children grow into adults, they find they cannot legally marry, own certain types of property, access the banking system and formal labour market, or even vote.

Between 2011 and 2015, ChildFund helped over 77,000 vulnerable children in Kenya`s coastal region and Nairobi to obtain birth certificates, giving them lifelong access to their civil rights.

Two of these children, five-year-old Akinyi and seven-year-old Ochieng, live in Nairobi with their mother Catherine, who lost her own parents when she was just 15. Catherine earns a living by doing irregular jobs, including washing clothes for her neighbours. Before she and her children received their birth certificates, it was impossible for Catherine to access various government services on their behalf, such as a cash transfer program for children made vulnerable by poverty, or HIV and AIDS.

“I have no living parents and, to apply for the monthly government cash transfer program for orphans, I needed my birth certificate and those of my children to prove that we are in need,” says Catherine.

She adds: “I did not have any money to apply for birth certificates, but with ChildFund`s assistance we were able to get the papers. I used them to apply for the cash transfer program, and now I get 2,000 Kenyan shillings (US$19) a month, which I mainly use to buy food and other basic items for my family.”

Statistics indicate that only half of all Kenyan children have birth certificates. The reasons for this are many, and include the lengthy application process and inability to travel to registration offices, but a lack of money to pay the application fees is the major issue for many families.

“Before I got these certificates, my daughter could not join a government school, and I struggled to pay school fees for a lower-end private school. When I received Akinyi`s birth certificate, she was finally able to enrol at a government school. I can also now apply for government medical insurance for my family through the National Health Insurance Fund,” says Catherine.

Now, with a single piece of paper in their possession, Catherine, Akinyi and Ochieng have access to more support and opportunities than ever before, which means a brighter future ahead.