Wanyororo River, Who Really Gives a Hoot?
To begin
with, the rivers dried long ago. River beds cutting across some villages serve
as testament of once lively rivers that housed aquatic life at one stage in
their lives. A look of the Wanyororo River, which for long had been the
lifeline of several villages downstream from Dundori hills, where it originates
from, captures the sad state of vital resources.
Once upon a
time, there was a river. It traced its origin from marshy swamps high up thick
forested hills. At its youthful stage, when its currents are strong, its waters
flew over a tablet like stone in a mini-waterfall. As the crystalline waters
cascaded below, beautiful rainbows formed when sunlight reflected on the ever
forming droplets.
The river
snaked its way widening its width to accommodate brownish waters as it gained
in strength cutting across cultivated and onwards through the villages of
Mombasa, Wanyororo, Giachong’e and Murunyu. The roar of water could be heard,
especially during the rainy peaks, for miles around. It was a danger to cross
that makeshift bridges had to be erected in numerous of places to save lives.
We are not speaking of era of substandard bridges devolved governments units
are launching with much fanfare through cutting of ribbons – and which are costing taxpayers astronomically.
The colonial
government of the time saw the great potential of this semi-Nile river. It
dammed it into three places namely at Mombasa and Wanyororo villages (two dams
in latter). In lean season, the Mombasa dam would release water down to
Wanyororo ‘I’ dam which in turn would release it to Wanyororo ‘II’ dam. Thus,
during the three dry months, residents were assured of steady water supply.
The settler
farmers close to Wanyororo ‘I’ dam had in fact harnessed the river’s waters by
constructing an artificial waterfall that turned a water wheel to provide power
to light their houses with – a project that didn’t see the light of the day as
the agitation for independence was in high gear then. Today, these homes form part of Wanyororo and
Kianda primary schools respectively. Sadly, the school management vandalized
the mini-waterfall in procuring building blocks for additional classes.
Except for
Wanyororo ‘I’ dam, which was overrun with marshy reeds, the other two dams were
clear such that, if you were in an elevated place like Bavuni hills, you could
see their ‘bluish’ waters. (By the way, why do water bodies, even forests,
appear blue from a distance?).
Today, you
may need a giant telescope in finding any of these dams from an elevated
position. A low earth satellite would highly return photos resembling those of
artificial ponds after a heavy downpour.
The dams are
simply a mass of green aquatic weeds with patches of greenish water in places.
The once giant river of the yore is today a seasonal rivulet flowing whenever
it rains.
And here is
how the slow death of this river began.
At the
height of the Nyayo regime, some farmers bordering the Bavuni/Wanyororo/Dundori
hills were given parcels of forest land to cultivate. This was in name of
‘political correctness’, when buying loyalty saw misappropriation of natural
resources. Although the idea was disguised as intended to address food security
in a food secure area, it went beyond this.
Private saw millers were dished with permits
to indiscriminately cut down trees, without replacing any.
The results
were not long in coming.
The once
dense carpet of green forest, viewed from air, was no more. Riparian areas were
laid bare. Fertilizers leached into the river such that, when the contaminated
soils were carried downstream and into the dams, weeds of every shade took hold
overnight. The dams’ depths shrunk owing to siltation.
Whereas
communities residing along the general river path were assured of steady water
supply throughout the year, the narrative changed. Trekking long distance in
search of this vital commodity has become a new order. Those connected to piped
water are seeing dry taps or contending with intermittent water supply - once in a
week.
Efforts to
restore the forest and return the river and the dams to their former glory have
not borne much fruits. The Kibaki regime did see the reclamation of forestland
with thousands of trees planted. Although it will take decades for hills to
assume their lost glory, the drying up of riparian parts, should be the case
for worry.
The current
Bahati Constituency legislator, Kimani Ngunjiri, had been quoted as saying Sh66
million had been earmarked for rehabilitation of two dams in the Dundori forest
under Constituency Development Fund. Frankly speaking, no dams exist in the
forest, and there is no clarification whether he was referring to the three
dams mentioned above. Although when the Bahati Constituency was part of the
larger Subukia one, the three dams were rehabilitated under the Subukia CDF programme, where thousands of
shillings were sunk in, and were messed upsetting the ecological balance of the
area.
The onus of
the blame, according to Dundori Ward MCA, Steve Kihara, lies with the directors
of the Wanyororo Farmers Company limited. He was quoted as saying these
officials had been mismanaging communal land, where the dams and wetlands are
located, like personal properties. Since the company was formed in 1980s, it
had never conducted any Annual General Meeting in its three decades existence. This
is surprising going by the registrar of societies records as the group is still
listed as active. It beggars question as to whose interests the directors are
advancing, considering the grabbing of social amenities under their watch.
Though experts
contend restoration of the river will take ages, conscientious voices,
especially from the young generation, are gaining momentum. Already, a youth
lobby group had been going around collecting signatures and hearing views
from affected villagers intending to petition the National Environment
Management Authority to do something.
The general consensus,
however, is that the river is as dead as a dodo.
Once upon a
time, where this dry valley cuts across the villages, was a river. And the river was lively with aquatic animals
and plants. Its fast flowing waters sang as soothing music to ears of wayfarers
who rested by the banks to quench their thirst or to dip their weary feet for
cooling effect.
It was the
lifeline of many a village and irrigated farms bordering its banks.
In many of
its meandering points where currents were not strong, livestock would be driven
to be watered at.
Many a
weekend some families would be seen doing laundry by the banks of the river or
by the dams’ sides as children swam across and others hunted for trout. That
narrative is no more.
There was a
river…… and there were three dams….
There is now
a seasonal stream that pretends to be a river and there are now three giant
ponds pretending to be dams!
And there
was a dark, thick forest that protected wetland and kept the climate of the
place constant throughout the years…..but today the forest cover is a
percentage of its former glory and the hills are bare like one stripped and
exposed of nakedness. The climate change is seeing the once food sustainable
areas becoming food dependent ones…for the harvests are erratic.
Who will
speak for the river…and the dams?
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