Chapter 2: The Year 2006 – Drought, Death, and Defiance
The year 2006 began with silence—the kind of silence that comes when the earth itself seems to have given up. The rains had failed again. The rivers were dry, the grass had turned to dust, and the wind carried the smell of hunger. Across Kenya, millions of people looked to the sky for mercy, but the clouds refused to come.
In the small village where John Mankind was now a year old, his mother watched her crops wither under the relentless sun. The maize stalks stood brittle and lifeless, and the goats bleated weakly from thirst. Each morning, she walked miles to fetch water from a shrinking stream, her baby tied to her back, his small hands clutching her shawl.
President Mwai Kibaki declared a national disaster in January 2006. The drought was the worst since 1971. Over 3.5 million Kenyans faced starvation, and hundreds of thousands more suffered from water shortages. The government appealed for international aid, and relief trucks began to roll into the arid lands of Turkana, Marsabit, and Garissa. But the help was never enough.
In the markets of Nairobi, food prices soared. A bag of maize flour became a luxury. The poor lined up for hours at relief centers, clutching empty sacks and hope. The drought did not discriminate—it touched every corner of the nation, from the dry plains of the north to the crowded slums of the capital.
For John's family, survival became a daily battle. His father sold two goats to buy food, but the money vanished quickly. At night, they sat around a small fire, listening to the radio reports of hunger and despair. Yet, even in the darkness, they prayed for rain.
The Marsabit Plane Crash
On April 10, 2006, tragedy struck again. A Kenya Air Force Harbin Y-12 aircraft carrying a peace delegation crashed into Mount Marsabit in heavy fog. The passengers were on a mission to mediate clan conflicts that had worsened after the Turbi massacre of 2005.
Fourteen of the seventeen people on board were killed. Among them were five Members of Parliament, two assistant ministers, a deputy opposition leader, a bishop, and several senior officials. The crash sent shockwaves across the nation.
The victims had been traveling to bring peace to a region torn apart by drought and tribal violence. Instead, they became martyrs of the very cause they sought to heal. The nation mourned deeply. Flags flew at half-mast, and churches filled with prayers for the dead.
In Marsabit, the people wept openly. The hills that had claimed the lives of their leaders stood silent, shrouded in mist. For many, it felt like a curse—a cruel reminder that peace in Kenya was always fragile, always just out of reach.
The Raid on the Standard Group
As the country grieved, another storm brewed—this time in the heart of Nairobi. In the early hours of March 2, 2006, hooded police officers stormed the offices and printing plant of the Standard Group, one of Kenya's largest media houses.
They smashed computers, burned newspapers, and shut down KTN's television transmission. The raid was brutal and swift, carried out under the cover of darkness. The government claimed it was a "security operation," but the public saw it for what it was—an attack on press freedom.
Journalists and citizens alike were outraged. Demonstrations erupted across the country. The media, long seen as the voice of the people, had been silenced by force. The incident became a symbol of the growing tension between the government and the public.
In the villages, people whispered about the raid. "If they can silence the newspapers," John's father said, "what will they do to us?"
Corruption and Political Betrayal
The year also brought renewed anger over corruption. The ghosts of the Goldenberg and Anglo Leasing scandals returned to haunt the government. In February, two ministers resigned under pressure, and twenty senior officials were barred from leaving the country as investigations continued.
The scandals revealed how billions of shillings had been stolen through fake contracts and fraudulent deals. The people were furious. They watched as politicians enriched themselves while millions starved.
To make matters worse, Members of Parliament voted to increase their own salaries and allowances, including mileage benefits, even as the drought ravaged the nation. The decision sparked outrage. Newspapers carried headlines calling it "a betrayal of the people."
In response, pro-government politicians formed a new party—NARC-Kenya—to counter the growing influence of the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM-K). The political landscape was shifting once again, and the battle lines for the next election were being drawn.
Other Shadows of 2006
The year seemed cursed with tragedy. In January, a five-story building collapsed in Nairobi, killing at least eight people and injuring dozens. The disaster exposed the corruption and negligence in the construction industry, where bribes often replaced safety standards.
In November, an outbreak of Rift Valley Fever swept through parts of northeastern Kenya, killing livestock and infecting humans. The disease spread fear among farmers already weakened by hunger.
That same month, flash floods hit the northeastern and coastal regions, killing several people and displacing over 80,000. The floods came as a cruel irony—after years of drought, the rains returned only to destroy what little remained.
Meanwhile, the trial of Thomas Cholmondeley, the great-grandson of a colonial settler, gripped the nation. He was accused of killing a local stonemason, and the case stirred deep racial tensions. For many Kenyans, it was a painful reminder of the inequalities that still lingered decades after independence.
The Child and the Nation
Through it all, little John Mankind grew. His mother's arms were his world, his father's voice his comfort. He learned to crawl on the dusty floor of their hut, his laughter a rare sound of joy in a year filled with sorrow.
Sometimes, his mother would look at him and whisper, "You were born in struggle, my son. But you will live to see peace."
The drought had taken much, but it had not taken hope. Across Kenya, people continued to plant seeds, to pray, to rebuild. The spirit of resilience—the same spirit that had carried the nation through colonialism, dictatorship, and violence—refused to die.
As 2006 came to an end, the skies finally opened. The rains fell, washing away the dust and tears of a weary people. The rivers filled again, and the land began to breathe.
But the wounds of the year would not heal easily. Kenya had survived another storm, but the cracks in its foundation were growing deeper.
And somewhere in the heart of the country, a child named John Mankind took his first steps—small, uncertain, but full of promise.
End of Chapter 2 – The Year 2006: Drought, Death, and Defiance