A few years ago I did some work (see “In ‘Forgotten Kenya,’ mobile classrooms follow in nomads’ footsteps”) with the Aga Khan Foundation (East Africa) and one of their partners, Education For Marginalized Children in Kenya, in North Eastern Province in Kenya.

This is the area hosting the Daadab refugee camp, where countless stories of famine and devastation are coming in anew. When we came in August 2009 to visit pastoral families in the region, there was drought and hunger, but it was nowhere near the scale it is today. I donated what I could afford to the World Food Program yesterday. The Canadian government has also promised to match donations made by Canadians:

The federal government announced Friday that it would match donations by individual Canadians who give money to eligible, registered, Canadian charities responding to the famine. The matching funds will apply to all donations made during a 10-week period, retroactive to July 6.

For a more in-depth analysis of the famine, check out the CBC here; for photographs from the area, see the Atlantic; and for a look at the causes of the famine beyond the traditional rhetoric of drought, see the Washington Post and the CBC. Donations are a short term answer to a humanitarian disaster; but much more is needed to develop a long-term, sustainable response to this recurring crisis.

Would a similar gesture towards Uganda, Kenya also shut-down this source of “blame”? What kind of impact would this have? From “The Importance of National Shame,”

Mr. Cameron seems aware of this effect. This week, he began a bridge-building mission to Pakistan by acknowledging that the crippling Kashmir dispute between New Delhi and Islamabad was the fault of Britain’s extremely ill-judged act of partition: “As with so many of the world’s problems,” he said, “we are responsible for the issue in the first place.”

It was both noble and clever. By putting a period on the end of that sentence, he helped render obsolete the timeless Pakistani habit of blaming every national failing on Britain’s perfidy. That’s now been admitted. It’s time to face the real problems.

Continued.

Over at Opinio Juris, Julian Ku highlights an important passage in the ICC pre-Trial Chamber’s recent approval to investigate crimes against humanity in Kenya. The opposing judge highlights that going ahead would:

… broaden the scope of possible ICC intervention almost indefinitely. This might turn the ICC, which is fully dependent on State cooperation, in a hopelessly overstretched, inefficient international court, with related risks for its standing and credibility. Taken into consideration the limited financial and material means of the institution, it might be unable to tackle all the situations which could fall under its jurisdiction with the consequence that the selection of the situations under actual investigation might be quite arbitrary to the dismay of the numerous victims in the situations disregarded by the Court who would be deprived of any access to justice without any convincing justification [emphasis added].

This is an important statement considering the difficult position the ICC already finds itself in. For more highlights follow the link to Ku’s post. Here’s a short article in the Daily Nation (Kenya) and from UN News:

[Kaul] concluded that there was no reasonable basis to believe that the crimes in Kenya were committed in an attack against a civilian population pursuant to or in furtherance of a policy stemming from a State or an organization, which he said was required by Article 7 of the Statute.

But, really, what are Kenyans to do? The courts are corrupt; the police would never offer adequate protection, easily bribed; Kibaki and Odinga will repeat the same buy-votes-incite-violence methodology in the next elections; the TJRC is a joke. If this is not the ICC’s place [in this particular case] to step in and protect those harmed by a State where there exists no other legal recourse or protection, who’s is it?

Back on the West Coast to the tune of tsunamis and earthquakes. Mother in kitchen making coffee and clanging dishes, three German exchange students, occasional other-sibling telephone calls, 6 km run with seemingly endless hill, wet forests and moss, noisy rivers, excitement over tomorrow’s hockey game, big fir trees. I was also firmly told to hand over my computer for several of the ten days I will be here to engage in ‘relaxation.’ A longer post incoming on the transition out of Nairobi. New projects, more fieldwork, less kidnappings.

New on World Bank.

These students have transferred from the Garunley Mobile School to the Abakore Primary Boarding School in Abakore Town, North Eastern Province, Kenya.

Aden Ali.

Fardosa Abdi.

Ubah Mohammed.

Interviewing the students was a challenge. While I had a translator, my presence was alarming/surprising/disconcerting. I only got through the basic questions (age, favorite subject, future profession, class ranking) – which really reveal very little about a person – before realizing that my intrusion was not really warranted. The pictures were taken for the organization who might be profiling their mobile school transfer students.

Education for Marginalized Children in Kenya funded this early childhood development center at Abakore Primary School. I would consider this good working conditions for children in Kenya: there are tables and chairs, some light, lots of books, and space.

We left Habaswein early in the morning. The sky was that eary gray before the sun burns off the clouds. We first stopped for liver, chapati, stew and tea, a tyical breakfast in the region, before driving back to Abakore and on to the Garunley Mobile School. Fortunately, Garunely was not far outside Abakore so we spent only about 20 minutes bouncing on cracked and pot-holed land before seeing a herd of goats. Loud honks from the car drew attention and we were met by the mwalimu, or teacher.

To learn more about mobile schools, I would suggest reading my first article at Toward Freedom. This meeting was more of a follow-up to look at other aspects of the school rather than the basic details. Through a translator, I spoke to a member of the School Management Committee (the community members who govern the school) and the teacher.

New developments in the mobile schools include government registration. Gurunley, now official, benefits from a feeding program. Mind you, most of the food was stuck at the World Food Program hangers since they only release food to certain key people and not directly to an approved community member. The school also needs to increase enrollment from 19 to 30 to ensure they benefit from full government grants: vaccinations, potential water services and a steady feeding program. All these are necessary to ensuring the school continues during droughts.

Classes usually happens for two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening so most of the kids were away in the bush taking care of animals. None of the children are vaccinated and many were sick. When we left the family, we took one girl and her mother to the dispensary in town. A fairly decent outfit considering how rural the area is – they now also have two medical students from Nairobi on internship.

The SMC member was pretty clear on his interest in having the children of the community educated. The main reason, aside from education “being the best thing you can give a child,” was that he wanted a better life for his children. This struck me as interesting. When the schools were first introduced, most families were wary that pastoralism would take a back seat to education. The schools were accused of being there to erode local cultures and “Christianize” children.

While the schools function around the pastoral clock, the children are supposed to leave after a year and transition into mainstream schools in Abakore and other towns. So, it seems that parents are admitting to a drastic generational change which will definitely mark pastoralism over the coming two decades.