TOBONG'U LORE

On the map, it features like a drop of sweat cascading down the face of the country. But it never dries up, because this salty water body is the world’s largest permanent desert lakes. Initially, it was called Anaam a Cheper. Or Anaam a Ka’alokol (which means sea of many fish) – but then mzungus came named it after some Rudolf bloke. Then in 1975, the late Mzee Jomo Kenyatta renamed it to Turkana – after the people who live around it.

It is on the shores of this lake that the Turkana congregate every year to host a celebration. Tobong’u Lore. A clarion call to welcome people back home. Ideally it is for the Turkana people, but because that is also the cradle of humankind, the festival could as well be an invite to all humanity.

Lodwar, the capital, will surprise you. If, like me, all you ever heard about communities living in the north is strife, hunger and warring communities. One of the most metropolitan areas you will find in Kenya. The Turkwell flows across the capital, passing at the back of Christ the Redeemer with His open arms, standing astride, looking over the town and its people.

While the sun hangs low and fierce, the Turkana still thrive. Whether under the relentless sun or the starlit sky, they embody a deep-seated connection to their traditions.

At Tobong’u Lore there was an explosion of culture. Of an elegant dark skinned people with a love for color (and Lakers jerseys). Women wear neck ornaments that hold their heads high. And men adorn headdresses made of Ostrich feathers.

Music and dance are a profound embodiment of their connection to – not just one another- but also to the earth that nourishes them, the sun that defines them, the jade sea that carries the spirits and memories of those that were here before.