Politics
Somalia’s Famines, Government Apathy and the Aid Industry
10 min read.Failed government leadership, the lack of accountable partnerships between aid partners and the government, rampant corruption, and psychological dependence on aid have kept Somalis on life support.

Somalia faces yet another severe drought that is threatening the country with famine if immediate action is not taken. The Gu and Dayr rainy seasons have been short, significantly reducing crop production and devastating livestock. Flash floods and locust infestations have contributed to crop destruction nationwide. Somalia’s Food Security and Nutrition Analysis Unit (FSNAU) has reported that seven million people are suffering from food insecurity with another 2.9 million in food crisis. UN agencies estimate the US$1.2 billion is needed to support the affected communities.
For the past three decades, haunting images of malnourished children and women have hit the airwaves to tug at the heartstrings of taxpayers in donor countries in an effort to increase giving. This is the sad reality; an emergency is declared, followed by a call for billions of dollars in fundraising.
Somalia is not alone in enduring this inhumane and degrading approach to supporting fragile low-income countries. Across the continent, images of starving African children have given birth to a global aid industry that is immoral and unjust. In these unprecedented times, as a global pandemic rages, with severe ramifications for economies throughout the world, many Africans have been awakened by the global outcry for justice and equity led by the Black Lives Matter movement. It has become a moral, political, and economic imperative to examine the impact of humanitarian interventions in the Global South that are often rooted in neo-colonialism and imperial dominance. This article focuses on the protracted humanitarian crisis in Somalia as a case study of failed government leadership and an aid system that has forgotten its mission.
Decades of climate crises and no relief in sight
The humanitarian crisis in Somalia has always been about water — either too much of it or not enough. The country’s economy is largely driven by the 60 per cent of the population that are agro-pastoralists and whose livelihoods have been wiped out by cyclical environmental calamities. Multiple droughts and famine have displaced three million people in the last five decades.
In 1973, “Daba-dheer” — the long-tailed drought — hit the northern region of the country, causing severe food shortages. Over 100,000 families were relocated to the Lower Shabelle and Juba regions by the military government of Siad Barre.
The humanitarian crisis in Somalia has always been about water — either too much of it or not enough.
In 1991-1992, as the civil war raged, famine conditions led the US government to send military airlifts of food to alleviate the suffering of millions. Despite these efforts, 300,000 people died during that period.
In 2011, the world woke up to images of millions of starving Somali children as the country was struck by yet another famine that took the lives of over 260,000 people, half of whom were children under five. In 2016-17, the country again went through another severe drought that reduced crop production and wiped out vital livestock.
Recent data from various UN agencies shows that up to 50 per cent of Somalia’s population, approximately 7.7 million people, are food insecure. This staggering statistic is a 30 per cent increase from last year. Although conflict and political instability are major contributors to food insecurity, droughts, floods, and environmental degradation have had a far greater and deadlier impact. As the climate emergency agenda now grabs our attention globally (and rightly so), it must be recalled that Somalia has endured climate disasters for over five decades.
Up to 50 per cent of Somalia’s population, approximately 7.7 million people, are food insecure.
And while in the past Somalia’s funding partners have responded to the humanitarian crises without addressing the root cause — climate change — we are now seeing a swift shift in language, where “climate solutions” are evoked to align with the billions committed at COP26 to support developing countries to adapt and mitigate climate change.
The humanitarian paradox
Somalia remains the world’s longest-running humanitarian mission, with billions of dollars spent annually, and there are some fundamental questions that must be raised as the climate crisis moves on to the global stage. Why have successive Somali governments been unable to tackle the most serious humanitarian crises? Why are we not realizing modest improvements but instead continue to see a dramatic increase in the humanitarian caseload as more aid is pumped into the system? How long can this state of emergency be sustained? Where is the return on investment for these dollars? Where is the accountability? What reforms are needed in the current structure to bring about real and tangible changes?
The water problem
While Somalis are nomadic agro-pastoralists accustomed to seasonal mobility, the extreme changes in the weather patterns have left most of the landmass uninhabitable. Rainy seasons have become extremely irregular and the rains minimal, while flash floods devastate towns along major rivers. The Gu rains have worsened conditions in human settlements and displaced tens of thousands in the critically dense urban settlements of Beledweyne and Jowhar along the Shabelle River. The problem is just as critical along the Jubba River where the poor floodwater infrastructure results in massive crop destruction.
Flooding and drought are not new to Somalia. These natural disasters have plagued the country for decades yet those in charge of Somalia, both the government and its UN partners, have long neglected addressing the central problem of Somalia’s humanitarian crises — water management.
The failure to manage water has devastated the country’s capacity for self-sufficiency. This negligence is partly responsible for the deaths of millions of Somalis from starvation and for the internal displacement of a fifth of the country’s population. Living conditions in the internally displaced persons (IDP) camps are by any standards some of the most abhorrent and inhumane. Mogadishu is the epicentre of this internal displacement of populations and hosts close to a million IDPs. Baidoa, Kismayo, and Bosaaso also host large displaced populations.
Failed government leadership
While natural disasters have caused a number of problems in Somalia, the real crisis is failed leadership across all levels of government. At the heart of the suffering of the Somali people is a defunct leadership. According to the World Bank, over 70 per cent of Somalis earn less than two dollars a day, with an unemployment rate of 80 per cent. Somalis under 35 years old make up two-thirds of the population, giving the country great potential to accelerate recovery and development with the right leadership in place.
The country’s abundant natural resources — including the longest coastline in Africa and large oil reserves — remain untapped due to inadequate human resource development and internal conflict. While the exploitation of these untapped natural resources could be a game changer, the country’s potential will undoubtedly be crushed by a conscienceless leadership.
Callous political elites have assembled for the sole purpose of chasing power and have shown very little regard for the majority whom they have condemned to a life of misery. Greed and corruption keep the country in a state of perpetual insecurity. Year after year, the country features at the top of global corruption indices. The looting of public assets and resources has been normalized and impunity reigns supreme. Those who have taken the most from the poor are rewarded by the system with ever-higher office.
Poor governance and weak institutions led by ego-driven male politicians are the source of the ongoing political, security, and humanitarian crises. The top leadership and their ministers are picked based on loyalty rather than competence. Appointing weakest-link personalities is the norm in order to curtail any criticism of the government. Lawmakers who are ill-equipped to manage the affairs of an extremely fragile post-conflict country are selected by a clan system that has proven to be inadequate and corrupt. Year after year, poorly resourced government institutions struggle to implement effective planning and coordination mechanisms and fail to meet the complex and serious challenges faced by the country. Inept leadership, mismanagement of key portfolios, and the lack of accountability within government also give humanitarian and development partners free reign to do as they see fit.
Callous political elites have assembled for the sole purpose of chasing power and have shown very little regard for the majority whom they have condemned to a life of misery.
In particular, the last five years have been politically tumultuous. From day one, the Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) made its priority to go after political foes, stifle free speech, and inhibit freedom of movement, using government and international instruments to attack anyone it deems a threat. Attacks on former presidents, prime ministers, and the use of firepower against peaceful protests have been the hallmark of the administration. The current political standoff is indicative of an out-of-touch leadership that will stop at nothing to rig elections. A highly contested election cycle lands the country in uncharted territory. Attempts to steal the election by any means necessary have ushered in a new dawn of political chaos not seen since the country’s Third Republic was formed in 2000. As millions face starvation and security threats from Al-Shabaab mount, FGS and regional leaders have derailed all efforts to hold timely and credible elections.
President Mohamed Abdullahi Farmajo, whose term ended on 8 February 2021, attempted a coup d’état on 27 December 2021, dramatically raising the political temperature in Mogadishu. In April, over 100,000 people fled the capital after government forces and leading opposition supporters clashed over the proposed law to extend the government’s mandate by two years — a violation of the country’s provisional constitution. These delays, clashes and uncertainties have led to the near-total collapse of government functions causing economic hardship and deep fissures across all sectors including within the security apparatus.
The current political standoff is indicative of an out-of-touch leadership that will stop at nothing to rig elections.
Political volatility has contributed to the weak response to the current drought. International donors are very apprehensive about disbursing aid to support drought mitigation efforts for fear that the funds will be used to finance political campaigns. The continued political instability has also prevented major donors from providing much-needed development aid. Those in the know understand that very little progress is being made, if any, and that the “igu sawir” — the photo-ops by government officials— are only for show, to give international partners and the public the impression that things are moving forward. The recent agreement by the National Consultative Council, consisting of Prime Minister Mohamed Hussein Roble and the heads of regional governments, says that elections must be completed by 25 February 2022. This is the third such agreement on elections, a last ditch effort to salvage the polls and prevent the country from spiralling into political violence.
The billion-dollar failure
In 2020, Somalia received US$2.0 billion both in humanitarian and development aid. The absence of a vested and capable government, the lack of accountable partnerships between humanitarian aid partners and the government, rampant corruption by all actors, and psychological dependence on aid have kept Somalis on life support. While increased funds are required to tackle the complex challenges across the country, it must be understood that money alone will not change the conditions on the ground.
The problem with the humanitarian and development aid cycle in Somalia is that assessments of threats are routinely conducted, analysed and published, but meaningful steps are rarely taken to pre-empt a crisis. Prevention and proactive measures are not defined early, clearly, or prioritized and resources tend to arrive after disasters have taken hold and families have lost their most basic resilience. Recurrent droughts and floods persist because partners do not invest in real solutions that would address their root causes. Very conveniently, money earmarked for emergencies can only be used for “aid” in the form of food and non-food items; it cannot be redirected to where it would have a more meaningful impact such as water management and infrastructure.
The goal cannot simply be “saving lives” without any measure of the quality of those lives that are saved. There seems to be no feedback loop in this cycle to critique both the continued investment in inadequate strategies, and the recurrence of deadly events that hinder economic development, improved governance, the rise of civil society, and the implementation of effective, long-term solutions. The majority of programmes are designed in Halane, a UN compound where all international actors reside, with much of the decision-making taking place in Nairobi, Geneva, or London without localized understanding or willingness to programme for impact. Development work does not work in theory alone — it has to work in practice.
The goal cannot simply be “saving lives” without any measure of the quality of those lives that are saved.
There are numerous UN agencies and hundreds of INGOs/NGOs operating throughout the country, all with different approaches and mandates that they carry out in a highly paternalistic, condescending, and out of touch, master-servant manner. Each agency has its own unique mission/vision (agenda) and the aid machinery and infrastructure are greased with dollars meant for Somalia’s most vulnerable. It is a system that prioritizes the sustainable livelihoods of its expats, who receive exorbitant compensation packages.
Aid system in need of urgent reform
The failure to adapt and the refusal to reform and transfer ownership to local communities has resulted in poor outcomes. Despite the worsening climate shocks that call for long-term sustainable solutions, UN agencies and international partners continue to push an emergency response narrative and often hide behind self-imposed policies to justify ad hoc short-term programmes as the pendulum swings between extremes for the Somali people.
“This is Somalia” is a common phrase among partners that means “anything goes”, and leads to programmes that set the bar at the lowest level possible. The effectiveness of projects is hardly considered; instead, project burn rates (how fast project budgets are spent) are used as a measure of progress. In the decades-long absence of a functional national and subnational government, many in the UN system have become accustomed to unfettered powers. Partners have operated without needing to work with the government. They are governed by organizational mandates with zero oversight or monitoring from the national or regional authorities. Both local and international NGOs are funded by donors directly through UN agencies to provide nearly all the basic services (shelter, water, health, education).
Until very recently, partners and donors have been reluctant to invest in government institutions to build capacities. This act is counterintuitive to the basic principle of supporting a state-building agenda. UN agencies and donors are often not able to directly assess, monitor, and evaluate the implementation of programmes and rely on self-reported methodologies from implementing agencies whose predetermined outcomes favour them. Consequently, this leads to results that are open to interpretation, that are unreliable and questionable at best.
The modus operandi in Somalia is to continue to rely on non-state actors to deliver essential services while the government at all levels fails to build true capacities, sound governmental systems, civil and economic infrastructure and financial models to resource programmes for its citizens. Rigid partner structures that operate parallel to the government at best downplay the role of the government and at worse stifle real institutional development.
Remedial actions
The humanitarian crisis across the country needs the immediate attention of the government and the international community before it becomes a full-blown famine. The Somali government must mobilize resources and capacities to prevent yet another humanitarian catastrophe.
As the election fever builds, federal government and the federal member states should redirect the millions allotted for vote-buying and election rigging to the hundreds of thousands of families that have lost the means to support themselves. Governments both national and local must begin people-centred campaigns to fundraise from Somalis at home and abroad. It is fundamental that international partners and the aid infrastructure make room for swift reforms that shift programming power to local actors and governments.
Investment in water infrastructure to support adequate water resources is the only way out of Somalia’s humanitarian conundrum. Given that nearly all of the rural livelihoods are agro-pastoral — investment in robust water infrastructure is critically needed to build resilient, sustainable communities that no longer need to rely on water trucks for the supply of water.
Empowering affected communities to apply locally developed solutions should be prioritized. Top-down plans with heavy overheads must be avoided. Direct support to communities using transparent money transfer systems is needed to provide immediate relief to the communities for whom agro-pastoralism is a traditional way of life. Developing and investing in low-hanging fruit such as the blue economy and livestock, the backbone of Somalia’s fragile economy, is urgently needed.
New conversations must be had around what it means to assist those in dire need with the goal of building resilient and self-sufficient communities. The historical humanitarian systems of shock and response have systematically failed Somalia. Such approaches keep Somalia mired in a state of despair, unable to make ends meet. Reform of the aid system led by a strong capable government that understands the complexity and the expertise required to tackle many of the existential threats the country faces is needed. This will reinforce mutual accountability between the government and the international community.
Developing and investing in low-hanging fruit such as the blue economy and livestock, the backbone of Somalia’s fragile economy, is urgently needed.
It is about time humanitarian actors in Somalia asked themselves where the value-added for their investments is to be found and how they can restructure the current approach to bring about a significant impact to the lives of marginalized Somalis.
Government leadership must prioritize saving millions from starvation, end the political standoff, and hold timely and credible elections. The international community and those who bankroll Somalia’s political elite have a moral and practical obligation to ensure that election stagnation ends and that credible election outcomes are obtained. By failing to do so, Somalia’s partners will have contributed to the imminent demise of the Third Republic and to allowing the famine that now threatens the country to take hold.
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Politics
Al-Shabaab and the Education Crisis in Northern Kenya
The government’s decision to withdraw all non-local teachers has played into al-Shabaab’s hands and consigned the region’s youth to a life of poverty.

Kenya recognises education as a fundamental human right that is vital for the attainment of national development goals. Article 53 (1) (b) of the Constitution of Kenya 2010 states that every child has a right to free and compulsory primary education while Article 55 (a) requires the state to take measures, including implementing affirmative action programmes, to ensure that the youth have access to education and training. Under Article 56 (b), minorities and marginalized groups have a right to be provided with special opportunities in education.
To give effect to the Constitution, the Basic Education Act (No 14 of 2013) has been passed into law to regulate primary education and adult basic education in the country. The Children’s Act also acknowledges and protects every child’s right to education. In addition, Kenya has adopted various general and specific policies on education. The second Medium Term Plan of Vision 2030 (2013) and the Policy Framework for Education and Training (2012) are the most recent.
Kenya recognizes that education is key to empowering the most marginalized and vulnerable individuals in society and makes efforts on an affirmative basis to enable these individuals to exploit their capabilities alongside their Kenyan peers through primary, secondary, and tertiary education.
Outside the provisions of the constitution, the government has also recently made efforts to address the issue of access to education and concerns about the quality of education. The measures undertaken include the establishment of tuition waivers for secondary schools, curriculum reviews to optimize student learning, and public‐private partnerships that aim to increase individual and community participation in the education sector.
World Bank statistics show Kenya’s successes in improving education through free primary education and other programs, with the most recent data from 2018 showing a literacy rate of almost 82 per cent. This has risen significantly from 72.16 per cent in 2007 to 78.73 per cent in 2014. Yet, despite these efforts, the country is still beleaguered by challenges and is far from narrowing the equity gap in the education sector. This is partly due to the application of solutions that fail to adequately address the social, cultural, historical, and political realities of the communities in the different parts of the country.
For the longest time, northern Kenya has been associated with marginalization, most prominently in the education sector. Although the region occupies a crucial geographical position as a borderland, progress is hampered by regional insecurity and government neglect. Most recently, threats from Al-Shabaab have had an indelible effect on the region’s education sector, leaving it to fare among the worst in the country in terms of literacy levels, school enrolment, performance in national examinations, high school graduation rates, transition to university, and student-to-teacher ratios. According to a 2015 report by Uwezo – a citizen-led assessment of learning outcomes in Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda, 8 per cent of adults in Kenya did not attend school. The regional contrast is stark: in northeastern Kenya 82 per cent of adults did not attend school while in central Kenya 0.1 per cent of adults (1 in 1,000) did not attend.
Historical overview
With its mission of exploiting the country’s natural, human, and economic resources, the British colonial government recognized the agricultural potential of the Kenya highlands — which it referred to as the White Highlands — and encouraged the establishment of settlers in places like Kiambu and Nyeri.
The settlement of colonialists in the highlands propelled the region’s development. Infrastructural development, such as the building of the Kenya-Uganda railway, soon followed, easing the movement of people and goods to and from the region, followed by such social amenities as schools and hospitals, which remained concentrated in the highlands. The departure of the colonial administration left behind a system that perpetuated inequity and allowed central Kenya to stay ahead of other parts of the country.
As for northern Kenya, its geographical location—far away from the railway line— contributed to its isolation during Kenya’s peak years of development. The British government only set up a few essential facilities in the region, such as police stations, military bases, and administrative offices. The building of schools became the responsibility of the local communities. With few resources, the districts could not afford to build many schools, and the few that were built were below standard.
The departure of the colonial administration left behind a system that perpetuated inequity.
Formal education was introduced to the people of Kenya by European Christian missionaries who used it as an evangelical tool to spread Christianity. The missionaries dominated the provision and administration of education throughout the colonial period. This strategic decision greatly benefited other parts of Kenya and further isolated the northern parts of Kenya where the climatic conditions were harsh and which were predominantly Islamic territory. Most of the communities never accepted Christianity and received a limited benefit from the “education mission” undertaken by the missionaries. Kenya’s most prestigious high schools central and Rift Valley regions—like Mangu High School, Alliance High School and many others—started out as missionary schools.
Successive post-independence governments perpetuated the marginalization of the people of northeastern Kenya. For instance, President Jomo Kenyatta, the first president of Kenya, imposed a state of emergency on the region in December 1963, which persisted for 28 years until it was lifted by his successor, President Moi, in 1991. In part, the state of emergency was a response to attempts by ethnic Somalis in the colonial Northern Frontier District (NFD) of Kenya to secede from Kenya and join their fellow Somalis in the larger Somalia Republic.
The Kenyan government dubbed the 1963-67 conflict the “Shifta War.” During the conflict, the Kenyan forces treated the ethnic peoples in the region with brutality, leaving a lingering sense of suspicion, anger, and tension, to the extent that some communities still consider themselves not part of Kenya. This exacerbated the sense of mistrust, with other Kenyan communities fearing being posted to the region for administrative duties, teaching, or to provide government services.
Schools remained understaffed because of the low numbers of teachers, while most locals could not take up teaching due to the high entrance grades required to join the Teacher Training Colleges (TTCs). Many high school graduates from the region have been scoring below average due to the poor learning conditions and the limited resources availed to the region by the central government.
After civil war broke out in Somalia in the early 1990s, the region’s security situation worsened as the conflict spilled over into Kenya. The civil war in Somalia started as a clan-based conflict but Islamic fundamentalist groups such as al-Shabaab, Daesh and Takfiriyun—which are against Western education—soon emerged. The interim Federal Somalia Government has been unable to contain these groups, which started launching attacks in northern Kenya, taking a region that had been slowly catching up back to the dark ages.
Al-Shabaab terror attacks
Northern Kenya has borne the brunt of al-Shabaab attacks. The group’s leaders have sought to establish a base in a region—one of the country’s poorest—where the ethnic Somali population has for years complained of mistreatment by the state. The insecurity hit the education sector hard since 2018 when al-Shabaab began attacking schools and killing teachers, many of whom started fleeing the region that year.
Most teachers hail from elsewhere in Kenya. Al-Shabaab, which seeks to create sectarian strife, has killed many public servants besides teachers, including engineers and security personnel. In 2015, it launched a string of attacks on non-local casual labourers at construction sites, forcing many of them to flee. The armed group also staged an attack that targeted the only university in the entire region, Garissa University College, killing 148 students. This led to the destabilization of the institution and created fear among students from other parts of the country. Laxity on the part of Kenyan security agencies has been witnessed; many police officers and soldiers detest being deployed in the northeast, where they face a greater danger of attack than in other parts of the country.
The British government only set up a few essential facilities in the region, such as police stations, military bases, and administrative offices.
The government posted a new regional commissioner who helped reduce the terror attacks. Mohamud Saleh led the region’s security forces between 2015 and 2018. His approach centred on community intelligence gathering. He gave locals the confidence they needed to go to the police with information about what al-Shabaab was saying and doing. Saleh was transferred back to Nairobi in 2018. The terror attacks have been on the up, especially in Mandera. Due to scant trust between citizens and the security forces, officials deployed from Nairobi to the region since then have struggled to gather intelligence on al-Shabaab.
The death of education in northern Kenya
While an understandable step, the government’s decision in early 2020 to withdraw all non-local teachers played into al-Shabaab’s hands. First, it created widespread anger in northern Kenya since residents took it as a signal that Nairobi does not consider them fully Kenyan. While the al-Shabaab accuses locals of being too Kenyan, the government on the other hand views them as belonging to Somalia. Secondly, evacuating teaching staff from the northeast risks consigning the region’s youth to poverty, or worse, leading to an entire generation missing out on education, with dire consequences such as delinquent and criminal behaviour likely to follow.
The Teachers Service Commission (TSC), the national body responsible for teachers’ employment, has insisted that teachers not be posted to the northeastern region until their safety is assured. Local leaders and members of parliament have argued that the government’s mass transfer of teachers is an indication of the continued marginalization of the region’s people. The education sector in northern Kenya has been brought to its knees by al-Shabaab.
Turning the situation around
To bring changes to the education sector in northern Kenya, we must first address the security situation. Corruption in Kenya’s security sector and failed or politicized intelligence-gathering lie at the root of the problem. Studies show that corruption fuels terrorism by undermining counter-terrorism measures and destroying police-community trust. Military force alone will not help to counter al-Shabaab’s activities in Mandera. The government should consider using committed intelligence officials who can blend into the local population and emerge with more accurate and timely intelligence to stop the group’s plans. The build-up of mistrust between the locals and Kenyan authorities has played into the hands of al-Shabaab.
Capacity building for civil society groups, community structures, local leaders, and the media could also help prevent violent extremism in northern Kenya. Human and material resources and training for all those involved in fighting al-Shabaab – such as elders and community leaders – are needed. Without the effective implementation of the local and community-level components of Kenya’s National Strategy to Counter Violent Extremism, and in the absence of an extensive intelligence network, the country will struggle to combat terrorism.
The insecurity hit the education sector hard since 2018 when al-Shabaab began attacking schools and killing teachers.
Training local teachers to free the region from its dependence on a non-resident teaching workforce is an important step that needs to be prioritized for security-related disruptions to be avoided. The continued suspension of learning activities has long-term ramifications. Studies show that children who have never been to school can easily be manipulated and recruited into the ranks of violent extremist groups.
The government should also upgrade the current school infrastructure. Schools in the north have few learning materials and cannot be at par with schools elsewhere in the country. The current budgetary allocation by the Ministry of Education is low, and the shortfall is bridged by funding from developmental partners such as USAID and the World Bank.
The challenges of improving education and other aspects of life in northern Kenya are enormous as the neglect has been ongoing since Kenya’s founding. No one entity may be able to overturn the cumulative disadvantages of historical injustices, but collaboration among agencies is necessary. The Kenyan government must spearhead a coalition of stakeholders and willing partners to implement an action-based policy framework for change. Given the extent of the lag, future funding needs to account for missed opportunities in a fair manner and as such, elected representatives from the area should form a special caucus to lobby the government to increase the national government allocation. Finally, deliberate policies need to be enacted to move the region from the margins to the centre.
Politics
The Indo-Pacific Concept and the African Connection
The Indo-Pacific concept is an expansion of the Asia-Pacific concept to include the Indian Ocean littoral countries and islands.

The development of the Indo-Pacific Concept has drawn global attention to South East Asia and the South China Sea. The concept is largely attributed to the leaders of Japan, the US, Australia and India who are also grouped together under the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue (The Quad). The idea straddles the region covered by the countries of the East Asia Summit (EAS) and includes some APEC countries.
The Indo-Pacific is geographically an extension of the Asia-Pacific concept. But rather than restricting itself to a vision of Asia that has Myanmar as its outer limit, it is an expanded vision that englobes both the Pacific and Indian Oceans, bringing the concept to the shores of Eastern Africa and to the island countries of the Indian Ocean.
Japan, Australia, India and the US have all unveiled their Indo-Pacific policies and strategies while the ASEAN countries announced their outlook for the Indo-Pacific in 2019, as did France. Germany announced its new policy for the Indo-Pacific in 2020 and the EU is working on an Indo-Pacific policy under its presidency. For its part, China has opposed the Indo-Pacific concept and prefers the Asia-Pacific idea. China sees the Indo-Pacific concept as an effort to counter its hegemony whereas most proponents of the Indo-Pacific concept seek a Free and Open Indo-Pacific (FOIP) that includes freedom of navigation, trade, etc., in line with the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).
In effect, China’s attempts to counter the maritime claims of several ASEAN countries using the nine-dash line have provoked reaction. The nine-dash line has no legal basis as decided by the Permanent Court of Arbitration in the case won by the Philippines in 2016. China’s intent to secure its interests at the cost of the claims of the ASEAN countries—and Japan—over the Senkaku Islands, has compelled them to develop more robust policies to confront China. Different countries approach this issue in different ways, while keeping in view their ability and interest to challenge China’s growing assertiveness.
Once the Indo-Pacific includes the Indian Ocean, particularly the Western Indian Ocean, then the impact on South Africa, Mozambique, Tanzania, Kenya and Somalia—the five African countries that have a seaboard on the Indian Ocean—becomes evident. The impact will also be felt by the countries at the mouth of the Red Sea: Eritrea, Sudan and Egypt and Djibouti. The Islands of Madagascar, Mauritius, the Comoros, Seychelles and the French Indian Ocean territories are important parts of this construct.
Formed in 1982, the Indian Ocean Commission (IOC) is perhaps the oldest body dealing with countries within the region. Institutionalised since 1984 and headquartered in Mauritius, it links the Comoros, Madagascar, Mauritius, Seychelles and Réunion (an overseas department and region of France). Observers on the IOC include China, India, the European Union, and the Organisation international de la francophonie (OIF). France has tremendous influence over the IOF. France also controls the island of Mayotte which did not obtain independence along with the Comoros.
Another regional arrangement is through the Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA) which was established in 1997 and which now has 22 members and 10 Dialogue Partners. The five African countries on the Indian Ocean littoral and the four island countries make up 40 per cent of the IORA membership that extends up to Australia. It has four ASEAN countries, (Indonesia, Thailand, Singapore, Malaysia), four SAARC members, (India, Sri Lanka, Maldives, Bangladesh) and four from West Asia, (Yemen, UAE, Oman and Iran). Among the ten Dialogue Partners are China, Egypt, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Republic of Korea, Turkey, United Kingdom and United States of America. Most of these countries are important players in the Indo-Pacific construct today. Two Quad members—India and Australia—are members of IORA, while Japan and the US are Dialogue Partners.
Since 2012, when India assumed the IORA chair, there has been a growing determination to strengthen institutions and capacities within IORA. India revitalized IORA during its chairmanship and six Priority and two Focus Areas were identified to promote sustained growth and balanced development in the Indian Ocean Region. These included maritime security, trade facilitation, management of disaster risk, fisheries, the blue economy, women’s empowerment and academic and tourism exchanges. This was largely a functional agenda but the activities gave the members access to various powers that are active in the Indo-Pacific and in the Gulf of Aden. In 2017, South Africa took the helm for two years and the chair is now with the United Arab Emirates. It has been a long time since Africa lead IORA; the first term was with Mauritius in 1997-98 and then with Mozambique in 1999-2000. So far, neither Kenya nor Tanzania have chaired the IORA.
When piracy hit the West Indian Ocean region, the navies of several IORA member countries helped control the scourge but IORA played no role in the security arrangements. However, since January 2009, the Djibouti Code of Conduct (DCoC) has provided opportunities for 21 member countries to coordinate capacities to deal with piracy in the Gulf of Aden and the Western Indian Ocean. A DCoC meeting in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia in January 2017 revised the code, now known as the DCoC+ or the Jeddah Amendment. It builds on the 2009 version and encourages members to cooperate fully to repress transnational organised crime in the maritime domain, maritime terrorism, and IUU (illegal, unreported and unregulated) fishing. India joined the DCoC+ as an observer in 2020 as did the EU and the Eastern Africa Standby Force. The DCoC provides IORA with stronger security elements while the Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia (ReCAAP) has been reached through the DCoC+.
When piracy hit the West Indian Ocean region, the navies of several IORA member countries helped control the scourge.
In developing their Indo-Pacific outlooks, Japan and France have sought to engage Africa directly. French policy was broadly enunciated by President Macron in May 2018 in Sydney and seeks an inclusive Indo-Pacific in which France has a growing interest. The policy speaks of promoting democratic values, protecting shipping, dealing with regional crises, and notes the presence of French forces in Djibouti, the South Indian Ocean and the UAE—with none in Asia. Economic opportunities, including the blue economy, development cooperation, Science & Technology (S&T) networks, are all part of France’s new approach to Asia and its oceans.
Dealing with terrorism and radicalization are also important goals. What is missing are direct references to Africa even though the geographic base for France in the Indian Ocean is through its Island territories of Reunion and Mayotte as well as its base in Djibouti. For France, the Indo-Pacific space is a geographic reality. France is present in the region via its overseas territories and 93 per cent of its exclusive economic zone (EEZ) is located in the Indian and Pacific Oceans. The region is home to 1.5 million French people, as well as the 8,000 French soldiers that are stationed there.
Japan’s Free and Open Indo-Pacific (FOIP) policy also covers the Indian Ocean up to its African shores. At TICAD7, the Yokohama Declaration saw Japan seek African support to protect the common good of the Indo-Pacific. While the West and North African countries had a lesser interest in the Indo-Pacific, the pro-Chinese countries ensured that they only took note of the FOIP in the Declaration, which emphasized maritime security:
“We stress the importance of promoting regional and international efforts related to maritime security, including piracy, illegal fishing and other maritime crimes, maintaining a rules-based maritime order in accordance with the principles of international law as reflected in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 12 (UNCLOS). We also underscore the importance of strengthening maritime security and safety through international and regional cooperation, as reflected in 2050 Africa’s Integrated Maritime Strategy (2050 AIM Strategy), in accordance with international maritime laws.”
Like France, the US and China, Japan too has a base in Djibouti, the focal point for much action around Indo-Pacific policies. While France and the USA have had longer-standing bases in Djibouti, the country has received greater attention due to piracy around the Gulf of Aden. Consequently, both Japan and China have established bases in Djibouti while India has access to all the bases in the country other than that of the Chinese. India also has agreements with the US and France to use their island assets and has engagements for security with Mauritius and Seychelles, and capacity building with Comoros, Madagascar and Mozambique. Kenya and Tanzania have used Indian military training teams to establish their military academies while Indian peacekeepers have operated in Somalia under the UN since the 1990s. India has also trained AMISOM contingents from Ethiopia and Uganda and has contributed to the AU’s fund for AMISOM.
Japan has been actively seeking to increase its investments in the Indian Ocean littoral and views the large projects in the Kenyan port of Mombasa and the port of Nacala in Mozambique as important and of strategic value. China is involved in the railways in Djibouti and Kenya, and the port in Djibouti but seems to have run into problems with Tanzania regarding the Bagamayo Port. A CSIS study showed that China was investing in 46 ports in Africa, four of which are on the Indian Ocean littoral—Durban, South Africa, Beira in Mozambique, Doraleh in Djibouti and Bagamayo in Tanzania. These are mostly categorized as part of China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) and some of them are strategic in nature while others are infrastructure and trade facilitators.
Japan has been actively seeking to increase its investments in the Indian Ocean littoral.
Thus, while China has a clear BRI concept of economic engagement with strategic overtones and is grasping the opportunities, the other countries which challenge its view are generating their Indo-Pacific outlooks and engaging them within their existing Africa programmes: Japan with TICAD, India with the India-Africa Forum Summit (IAFS), France with its Africa policy, and the EU with its EU-African Union summit process. The US also developed a new Africa Strategy under the Trump administration. What all these programmes lack is cogent coordinated economic action. The Asia Africa Growth Corridor (AAGC) is a joint India-Japan strategy that seeks to coordinate trilateral projects in conjunction with African partners.
Moreover, the need to address non-traditional security threats and to deal with Humanitarian Assistance and Disaster Relief (HADR)—as India has effectively done over the years in the region—is coming to the fore. Africa could benefit from divergent interests and capabilities but needs to be cautious in ensuring a level playing field for all its partners.
Politics
Shifting Rights: Dispossession of Pastoralists by Predatory Stealth
Pastoralist communities are effectively losing their rights to their communal lands through an obscure and predatory engagement process that involves conservation NGOs and self-seeking community leaders.

Scientific evidence strongly affirms that arid and semi-arid ecosystems are key frontiers for shifting resource rights and increased exposure to global challenges such as climatic risks. A large share of Kenya’s land is classified as ASALs (Arid and Semi-Arid Lands) with different forms of ecosystems including ranches, community-based conservancies and game reserves, among others, all of which contribute to community livelihoods and resilience as well as to the national economy. As the world grapples with the underwhelming resolutions of COP26, there is increasing need to pay attention to climate justice as a fundamental basis for achieving the Paris targets and sustainable development goals.
This will require that keen attention be paid to the shifting resource rights of ASAL communities. In effect, resource management decisions have often been accompanied by strong claims that these communities have been involved in the decision making process, that consent has been obtained and that they are happy with the decisions taken.
However, what has not been revealed is the manner in which consultations and engagements with these communities have been used to shift rights from communities to other powers. Community engagement is a fundamental platform through which community voices are included in the decision-making process, and therefore, understanding how these engagements are being used to shift resource rights is critical to strengthening the engagement capacities of the affected communities.
This blog provides a reflection from fieldwork undertaken in Samburu County, Kenya, that focused on how land rights intersect with adaptation strategies. The fieldwork was carried out under the Rights and Resilience Project funded by Danida. The project aims to investigate resilience and land rights in the context of pastoral adaptation in Kenya. More specifically, the project looks at how adaptation strategies interact with land needs. The implementation of the project is led by researchers from the University of Copenhagen, The Institute for Development Studies (IDS), University of Nairobi, University of Roskilde, the Danish Institute for International Studies (DIIS), and the International Livestock Research Institute (ILRI)
How are community-based conservancies are established?
The concept of Community-Based Natural Resource Management (CBNRM) underpins the establishment of community-based conservancies (CBC), mainly by communities with an interest in particular outcomes. Conceptually, pastoralist communities, including those living in the ASALs, are expected to drive the establishment of conservancies as a means of preserving resources and supporting their livelihoods both during normal seasons and in times of shocks. However, the process is not a purely community undertaking, but is often catalysed by actors posing as “good Samaritans” who either bring experience, resources, or information to support the process. For instance, the Northern Rangeland Trust (NRT), a Kenyan conservation NGO, has led and financed the establishment of some 23 CBCs covering about 1,687,985 hectares in the Isiolo-Samburu-Laikipia landscape since 2004, involving an estimated 400,000 community members.
A study of the Sera Conservancy situated within the Losesia and Sereolipi Group Ranches in Samburu shows how communities lose their rights to the CBC through a relatively obscure and predatory engagement process. The conservancy was established in 2001 and covers an area of 339,540 ha.
According to community members, the decision to establish the conservancy was driven by the changing ecological conditions (e.g., shifting weather patterns), increasing population and resource scarcity. This meant that the community had to rethink and embrace new ways of managing their resources, inspired by the awareness campaigns carried out by established conservation NGOs such as the NRT. In establishing the conservancy, parts of the group ranches were delineated as wildlife corridors while specific areas were designated for livestock usage.
Communities lose their rights to the CBC through a relatively obscure and predatory engagement process.
The fundamental idea behind the creation of the conservancy was to preserve its ecological and resilience value and promote the resilience of both the conservancy and the community by regulating the availability of feed during the different seasons. This approach to building resilience is widely recognised in international policy on climate change as part of ecosystem-based adaptation (EbA). EbA involves a wide range of ecosystem management practices to increase resilience and reduce the vulnerability of people and the environment to climate change.
Transitions in engagements: from decision makers to mere public participants
The establishment of CBCs is anchored in the community’s support for conservation that involves conservationists providing training and creating awareness among selected community members – mainly the leaders of the various community ranches. The need to establish CBCs is then mooted as an option for ensuring a more effective management of the resources of pastoralist communities especially given the changing climate and the increasing population. This often culminates in some form of negotiation between the community leaders and a promoter (e.g. the NRT). These negotiations begin with initial meetings with community elders and representatives of group ranches where the ideas around CBCs are discussed and the associated benefits highlighted. Community leaders then relay the information to the wider members of the group ranches who are called to attend meetings with selected political leaders such as members of the county assembly and where they are informed about the need to conserve the resources available for pastoralism.
According to members of the Losesia Group Ranch, discussions in community meetings are often based on the understanding that the CBC idea is driven by the community. Yet the reality is that the process is driven by conversations held elsewhere outside the community. The early-stage experiences in initiating the Sera CBC raise key questions around whether the CBC concept as framed in literature and policy is really community-led or are just a model approved by the community. Whatever the case, this represents the first juncture at which rights begin to shift within the engagement space. In this case, the community’s right to decide the best model of conservation for its resources is weakened as the process is driven by conversations initiated outside the community. Indeed, it has been argued elsewhere that the creation of CBCs is motivated by the rich wildlife resources on the community lands rather than by the interests of the community. Yet at the CBC initiation stage community rights still remain relatively high because they still have the power to make and question decisions since no deals have been struck at this point.

Figure 1: Illustration of the critical junctures along the community engagement process where rights shift from the communities to other powerful actors
Once a community agrees to the establishment of a CBC, it develops the rules and regulations that will govern the organisational engagement with the CBC. These rules include delineating specific areas for wildlife and others for livestock. Community leaders, in conjunction with the conservation NGO, ensure that the areas demarcated for wildlife become relatively restricted to community access. At the same time, the movement of livestock in certain parts of the conservancy is systematised to ensure that pasture is managed and preserved for use by all during the different seasons. At this point, community rights still remain relatively strong given that most decisions, including the CBC’s rules and regulations are made by the community. However, narratives around wildlife conservation begin to strongly emerge as part of the CBC discourse within the community.
The creation of CBCs is motivated by the rich wildlife resources on the community lands rather than by the interests of the community.
Community members have said that while they appreciate the value of wildlife conservation as part of their culture, they do not have a clear understanding of what rights they have over the conserved wildlife. They are merely informed by their leaders about its potential value in terms of tourism and revenue generation to support various community projects. On the other hand, they are clear about the value that their livestock is able to attract even though livestock is controlled and pushed to the periphery by the drive to delineate wildlife areas.
Therefore, while the communities still feel that they have rights to the CBCs and the associated benefits, whether from wildlife or livestock, their rights are increasingly weakened as they commit to set aside a section of their land for wildlife conservation while they have little control over the expected activities and benefits. Moreover, it is the community itself that will have placed restrictions on access to the designated wildlife areas. This is a clear illustration of how community engagements serve to open up avenues for loss of resources, especially when communities become eager to align to changing conservation models or when they mainly focus on beneficial opportunities without interrogating the inherent consequences.
However, it must be noted that most community members do not have the capacity to interrogate such issues. In cultures that reproduce elites and confer powers differently to different categories of social groups, the collective voice of the community to interrogate emerging issues is relatively weak, and there is a general reluctance to do so because such questioning is seen as going against one’s own culture.
The areas set aside for conservancies are in truth the major frontiers for the further erosion of community rights as new interventions begin to leverage the economic value of wildlife. Several studies have raised concerns about this, equating the designation of wildlife areas to the commodification of wildlife for economic gain. To date, about ten lodges and hotels have been established within CBCs, occupying a significant share of the areas set aside for wildlife conservation. These investment deals are negotiated with community members who all along believe that they are in control of the CBC without realising that they are systematically losing control in this sphere of engagement. Negotiations regarding investments in CBCs are mediated and facilitated by particular conservation NGOs, such as the NRT in the case of Samburu, a conservation NGO which already has very strong connections with donors and investors at the international and domestic levels, as well as with policy and business actors. It is at this juncture, therefore, that powerful new actors are introduced into the community engagement space. This means that decisions at this point are no longer under the remit of the community but rather under a wider cadre of interests with different powers.
Several studies have raised concerns about this, equating the designation of wildlife areas to the commodification of wildlife for economic gain.
According to the Losesia community, representatives of the ranches negotiate with the investors based on their constitution, which allows community members to lease out parts of the conservancies. Various economic advantages are touted during these negotiations, resulting in the perception that the community has given its consent through the local elites who are culturally perceived as representing the interests of the community but who in reality have become self-seeking gatekeepers to community land. In presenting the potential economic benefits, however, the financial details are often concealed from the relatively uninformed community members and it is often simply agreed that a certain percentage of the revenues collected will be ploughed back to support conservation. Community members are also promised jobs and other benefits.
While the constitution encourages interventions that promote the conservation agenda, it is relatively vague on issues of rights and benefit sharing and management. Moreover, there are no clear mechanisms to ensure that investors adhere to the conservation principles enshrined in the CBC agenda. This provides a huge window of opportunity for investors to pursue different agendas and further infringe on the rights of the community. Consequently, community members feel that the investments made within the conservancies have actually shifted focus from conservation to pure profit generation to the exclusion of the community members themselves. Some community members highlighted that investors have often expanded boundaries beyond the agreed areas, have introduced new recreational activities—including illegal game hunting—that are detrimental to the ecology of the conservancies, and in most cases have become less transparent about the revenues they generate. Furthermore, new physical boundaries are established, creating a permanent sense of exclusion from the conservancies.
Yet this new trajectory, while clearly infringing community rights, is gaining support from the authorities, particularly at the level of the county government where the interest centres on revenue collection. The county government is expected to provide an enabling environment for investors while at the same time protecting the rights of the community but investors’ interests systematically take precedence over community rights. Moreover, concerns have been raised that some county governments are currently developing county conservancy laws aimed at completely shifting the management of conservancies from communities to the counties. Some community members have also raised concerns that conservation NGOs and investors who initially consulted them closely no longer engage them directly but go through the county government. The common interest around revenues and profits has therefore resulted in a powerful coalition between the investors, the county government, and the NRT, that has taken over the management of the conservancies to the near-complete exclusion of the communities.
New physical boundaries are established, creating a permanent sense of exclusion from the conservancies.
This effectively means that communities are no longer in direct control of the conservancies as was originally envisaged. The community engagement process is no longer about the community decision-making process; it has now become merely a public participation exercise. Community members are invited to meetings pertaining to the conservancies as public participants rather than as interested parties with a stake in decision-making. A community member observed that while the CBC retains their name, it is no longer theirs.
What role does policy play in the shifting community rights?
At the national level, Kenya has developed a range of developmental policies targeting the management of these resources. Additionally, Kenya’s climate change policies such as the National Climate Action Plan, the updated Nationally Determined Contribution, and the Adaptation Action Plan, focus on adaptation and building resilience. These policies acknowledge the role of conservancies in improving livelihoods and the broader economic development, but are more focused on using resources for development rather than for enhancing livelihoods and the resilience of communities. Therefore, national development and resource management policies do not pay attention to the fundamental resource rights necessary to protect local communities from powerful actors. The policies also lack room for strengthening local governance. While the Community Land Act exists to strengthen the role of communities in managing their resources, this law seems to be increasingly superseded by other national and county-level legislations.
The value of traditional and communal resources and rights is less articulated in contemporary conservation policies. This has exposed resilience-building resources such as community conservancies to powerful economic interests that tear apart the communities’ resilience-building social structures, creating further inequalities and social vulnerabilities.
Some county governments are currently developing conservancy laws aimed at completely shifting the management of conservancies from communities to the counties.
At the county level, county governments are expected to provide an enabling policy environment for the conservation interventions, and to protect the rights of the communities within the conservancies. However, the case of Sera CBC shows that county governments are motivated by the developmental goals tied to revenue collection rather than by community rights. For instance, the Samburu County Integrated Development Plan acknowledges that CBCs are resources that can be harnessed for increased revenue collection and county development. This also aligns with the narrative at the national level where conservancies are viewed through the lens of tourist attraction, foreign exchange, and GDP enhancement. As already highlighted above, some counties are developing county conservation laws aimed at putting conservancies under the direct control of county authorities, which is seen as a threat to the rights of the communities concerned.
What are the implications for resilience?
The loss of these rights is leading to an accumulation of social injustice such as gender imbalances. Community governance is also weakened by the community’s exclusion from the decision-making process, leading to the loss of resilience-building resources in pastoralist communities. The loss of rights is exacerbated by the state-centric approach to resilience planning, an approach that has been associated with capitalistic ambitions to control resources and the subsequent resource grabs from vulnerable communities, a phenomenon that has created new cycles of climate risk accumulation. Consequently, the proposed development and resilience-building options are yet to encompass the lived realities of the communities that they seek to help.
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