Issue No. 83

The Political Economy of Cattle Rustling in Kenya

For decades, much of Northern Kenya has wrestled with cyclical violence rooted in pastoralist competition over livestock and grazing land. But what was once culturally regulated pastoralist raiding has gradually devolved into a militarised, profit-driven enterprise. Intersecting with both food security and climate change, banditry and cattle rustling are intensifying, with an August 2024 report by the National Crime Research Centre documenting a sharp rise in the past year, resulting in over 300 fatalities and many thousands more displaced or impoverished. The government's attempts to stifle the violence have further struggled in the face of Kenya's cost-of-living crisis, as well as the participation of corrupt, vested political interests in Nairobi.

Historically, cattle raiding was a socially sanctioned mechanism embedded in the cultural fabric of pastoralist communities across Kenya's northern arid and semi-arid lands (ASALs). Governed by traditional customs and elder authority, raids served important community purposes, including the replacement of lost livestock, bride price payments and male initiation. In large parts of ASAL areas of Northern Kenya, men's social worth has long been intimately tied to the quality and quantity of their livestock. However, elders placed clear limits on raids, banning attacks on women and children and enforcing compensation processes to avoid retaliatory violence. These practices were also flexible, adjusting to environmental conditions; raiding was often suspended during droughts, for instance.

However, in the 1990s, these traditional systems began to break down, with the long-standing cultural practice gradually transforming into a more violent and commercial activity. The proliferation of illicit firearms, trafficked from conflicts in then-southern Sudan, Ethiopia, and Uganda, militarised the practice, with automatic weapons such as M16s replacing spears and shields. Raiders were suddenly able to seize large herds of livestock with force while arms proliferated among groups, including the Turkana, Samburu, and Pokot. And with tribal political elite discovering the immense sums possible from cattle rustling, the reciprocity and honour that provided socio-economic guardrails to the practice of cattle raiding were eroded. Raids that had historically been bound by customary rules were increasingly overtaken by organised violence. 

A vicious cycle soon emerged, which continues to this day, with political and economic elites exploiting the corrosion of traditional pastoralist systems, which in turn further eroded their influence. Local politicians have long been linked to cattle rustling by supplying arms, transport or safe passage in exchange for loyalty or votes, particularly during election periods. Here, cattle rustling is wielded as a tool for both ethnic mobilisation as well as a source of informal revenue to help fund campaigns. Just this week, Turkana Governor Jeremiah Lomorukai accused Tiaty MP William Kamket of profiting from the stoking of inter-communal cattle rustling along the Turkana-Baringo border. Similarly, wealthy businessmen have also taken advantage of the national government's absence from Northern Kenya to launder stolen livestock through informal markets and cross-border trade routes. Illicit cattle continue to be rebranded or slaughtered in secondary markets or transported across porous borders. 

These porous and poorly demarcated borders have further contributed to the regionalised nature of this insecurity across the Horn of Africa. Illicit arms, stolen livestock, and armed groups routinely flow across border areas such as Moyale, Mandera, and the Turkana borderlands. This year, several raids on Turkana fishermen by armed Ethiopian militias have occurred, for instance. Artificial and colonial-era borders do little to quell historic inter-group tensions and violence, particularly with poor coordination between security forces and the absence of coordinated disarmament or policing frameworks. The consequences of armed conflict, poverty and political breakdowns in Kenya's neighbouring countries continue to seep into its own peripheral regions, undermining its attempts to tackle the perennial issue.

Climate change has significantly accelerated this breakdown. The ASAL regions, which comprise over 80% of Kenya's landmass and nearly 70% of the country's livestock, have been severely affected by prolonged droughts and erratic rainfall. Between 2020 and 2023, the region endured 5 consecutive failed rainy seasons, culminating in the worst drought in more than 40 years. In counties such as Turkana, Baringo, and Samburu, rainfall during the 2023 long rains fell up to 70% below average, leading to the loss of over 2.5 million livestock across the country. For communities that rely almost entirely on pastoralism, these losses represent a total collapse of income and food security. This remains one of the central contributors to the epidemic, with young men supplementing their limited pastoralist incomes with other, often illicit, revenue streams.

This convergence of violence and environmental stress has triggered a wider humanitarian crisis. As livestock disappear, so too does access to food, income, and basic services that communities depend upon. In 2024, over 1.9 million people in Kenya's ASAL regions faced acute food insecurity, a figure that has continued to rise in 2025 amid renewed droughts and ongoing insecurity. The Kenya Red Cross reported over 12,000 people displaced across Northern Kenya in the first quarter of 2025. Displacement has further disrupted education and health services, with schools and clinics in violence-prone areas forced to shut down. In late May, more than 20 schools in Kerio Valley were closed after teachers were withdrawn by their unions following the killing of a Catholic priest in the area. 

These issues are likely to be only accentuated in the coming years, with environmental pressures rising as herders are forced to move beyond traditional grazing routes for water and pasture. In turn, the negotiated agreements regarding seasonal migration have become a flashpoint for conflict, while desertification and flooding have further reduced available grazing land and increased competition. Drought-stricken youth often engage in rustling to rebuild depleted herds, but many now operate within organised networks that include brokers, traders, and political patrons that undermine traditional conflict resolution systems and fuel retaliation.

At the heart of the issue, though, is that many of these peripheral counties fundamentally remain peripheral to Nairobi's gaze, both politically and economically. The roots of this can be traced back to a long history of neglect under colonial rule. Then called the Northern Frontier District, the British colonial administration governed the region under harsh laws that restricted movement, isolating it from the rest of the colony and stifling economic activity. It was viewed not as an integral part of Kenya but as a buffer zone against external threats, maintained through coercive policing rather than inclusive governance, and with limited investment in infrastructure and basic services. This laid the foundations for widespread poverty and weak institutions, with post-independence governments having done little to redress this structural exclusion. 

Although the 2010 Constitution devolved resources to counties and enshrined socio-economic rights, implementation in ASALs has been inconsistent. Kenya's devolved system, which was intended to mitigate inter-communal divisions by addressing socio-economic grievances through enabling peacebuilding structures and political settlements, has further stalled, partly due to the pathology of the corrupt elite-captured system. Counties such as Turkana and Baringo continue to register some of the lowest development indicators in the country, with budget execution rates for key sectors, including education, health, and roads, still below the national averages. Still, there have been some politicians calling increasing attention to these issues and the rising violence, such as National Assembly Speaker Moses Wetang'ula, who recently urged unity amongst North Rift leaders and for them to renounce cattle rustling. 

Over the years, the state's response has fluctuated but has often been militarised and ineffective in nature. Repeated disarmament campaigns and security operations have met limited success, though Operation Maliza Uhalifu, launched in 2023 in Laikipia, has somewhat reduced pastoralist militia violence in the North Rift area. Others, though, such as one in 2022 that targeted the Baringo, Elgeyo Marakwet, and West Pokot counties, were only able to briefly quell violence. And in some instances, government crackdowns have exacerbated the very insecurity they aim to resolve by displacing communities and weakening informal governance mechanisms. 

Supporting pastoralists' income diversification and communal resistance against climate shocks alongside improving relationships between the national government and these peripheral areas would go some way in stalling the rising violence in the longer term. Further, cross-border intergovernmental security cooperation is critical as well, with this issue far from unique to Kenya and roiling communities across the Horn of Africa. And while it is a complex and multi-faceted issue, so too should Kenya's politicians look closer to Nairobi to tackle the issues of banditry and cattle rustling in the North. For too long, these issues have been considered wholly peripheral in nature.

The Horn Edition Team