I know quite a number of you have been asking me about Isiolo and I have given you knit picks of it. You will have to bear with me on the details, because those details are what you will read in my story.
But for the sake of those of you itching to the core, here is a quick feel of Isiolo. The temperature shuffles between sweating like a pig hot, and bearable warm. Isiolo is a conflict of two types of vegetation; dry and prickly and cool and hilly.
Isiolo is smack in the middle of the country. It is an area of conflict because the Somali, Borana, Turukani, Duji, Samburu lay claim to it and so do the Meru. These are historical messes really.
The truth is the Somali who were from Somaliland in the early 18th century were awarded the land of Northern Kenya as a token for fighting alongside the British in the First World War. You know kind of the same way Queen Elizabeth decided to dish out Mt. Kilimanjaro as a gift.
Now here you have a situation where people were given land as a token of appreciation and the said, original inhabitants who grew up there. Then you have neighboring communities that had their politicians lay stake on the land. So you have communities with issues of boundaries living alongside each other in a thin balance.
What blew my mind in Isiolo was that people speak Swahili. I know it sounds so tourist like, but seriously. I expected to have to look for a translator on the trip. But alas they speak better Swahili than I do. Sidebar; I need a Swahili refresher course. Anyone feel inspired to teach me?
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