Northern Kenya's drought: The role of pastoral movement

Three consecutive seasons of failed rains in Northern Kenya have pushed pastoral communities to the brink. Fields lie bare, water sources have dried up, and livestock the backbone of life in the region are dying in alarming numbers. The result has been rising malnutrition, especially among children under five and expectant mothers, deepening food insecurity, and disrupted education as families struggle to survive.

According to Kenya's National Disaster Management Authority about 1.76 million people are currently facing acute food insecurity and require urgent assistance. Of these, more than 179,000 people are already in emergency conditions, particularly in counties such as Mandera, Turkana, Wajir, and Baringo. The situation is expected to worsen, with up to 2.12 million people projected to face acute food insecurity by January 2026.

"The drought is not just an environmental crisis; it is a social and economic emergency," says Dr. Monica Nderitu, an environment and climate change resilience expert. "When livestock die, everything else collapses nutrition, income, health, education, and dignity."

In Kenya's arid and semi-arid Lands, livestock is far more than an economic asset. It is food, savings, identity, and security. In counties such as Turkana, Marsabit, Mandera, Wajir, and Garissa, most households depend directly on pastoralism for survival. Nationally, livestock supplies over 90 percent of Kenya's meat and milk, making it central to the country's food and nutrition security.

As droughts become longer and more frequent, survival increasingly depends on one critical strategy: pastoral mobility.

In Mandera County, the impact is already severe. According to the Kenya Red Cross, malnutrition has emerged as the most serious humanitarian threat, particularly among children under five and the elderly. Thousands of households are struggling to cope as livestock losses mount and food prices rise.

"Restricting movement does not protect ecosystems; it destroys them," Dr. Nderitu warns. "And when herds are lost, Kenya loses food, income, and stability."

An early warning system

For centuries, pastoral communities have relied on indigenous knowledge to survive harsh climates. Long before scientific forecasts are released, they read signs in animal behavior, cloud patterns, winds, plants, stars, and moon cycles to anticipate drought and act early.

"Indigenous climate knowledge is incredibly precise and local," says Dr. Nderitu. "It allows pastoralists to move early, reduce losses, and adapt before drought peaks."

She notes that pastoral systems offer critical lessons for national climate policy. Supporting mobility corridors, negotiated grazing agreements, herd diversification, and community-led resource management can strengthen both ecological and social resilience. Integrating indigenous forecasting into Kenya's formal early warning systems would further improve preparedness.

In counties like Mandera, where most households depend on livestock, the cost of inaction is already visible asset loss, severe food insecurity, rising malnutrition, and growing conflict over scarce resources.

"Mobility spreads risk," Dr. Nderitu says. "It reduces pressure on land, lowers conflict, and helps communities survive climate stress."

To keep this system working, pastoral communities need secure migration corridors, social protection, improved early warning systems, and sustained investment in water infrastructure. Climate-smart practices such as drought-tolerant breeds and fodder production are also critical. While NGOs play a vital role in emergency response and recovery, strong government leadership remains essential.

"The state must create enabling policies and invest in resilience," Dr. Nderitu emphasizes. "Pastoralists are not the problem; they are part of the solution."

As climate pressures intensify, Northern Kenya's pastoralists are demonstrating that survival does not come from standing still, but from moving wisely with the land. Their movement across the rangelands is not just a response to crisis it is a pathway to resilience.

Why movement matters

Unlike farming systems that rely on fixed land, pastoralism is built around movement. Rainfall in drylands is uneven, meaning pasture and water exist in scattered pockets across vast landscapes. When drought sets in, remaining in one place can be fatal.

"Drought is a slow-moving disaster," Dr. Nderitu explains. "Mobility allows pastoralists to respond early moving animals before conditions become deadly. It is not optional; it is their primary adaptation mechanism."

By moving herds strategically, pastoralists reduce livestock deaths and protect livelihoods. Different animals are taken to different ecological zones depending on their needs... cattle to wetter areas, goats to shrub-rich landscapes, and camels to arid bushlands where they can survive longer without water. This movement also allows overgrazed land time to recover, helping prevent long-term environmental degradation.

The health of Kenya's food system is closely tied to pastoral mobility. Livestock sales during droughts enable families to buy food and essential goods, acting as a buffer against hunger. When movement is restricted by insecurity, closed borders, or poorly designed policies, herds are forced into smaller areas, accelerating land degradation and increasing losses.