Kenya denies Jubaland troop presence in Mandera as leaders decry sovereignty breach

Kenya Denies Jubaland Troop Incursion as Mandera Leaders Cry Foul — A Border Dispute With Long Shadows

NAIROBI — Kenya’s government says nothing unusual is happening in Mandera. Local leaders insist armed men from neighboring Somalia are inside the town, disrupting life and humiliating the state. In a region where a dirt road can mark the difference between war and peace, the truth can be as contested as the border itself.

What Nairobi says

Interior Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen pushed back hard on claims that Jubaland forces crossed into Mandera County. Speaking to reporters in Busia, he said those sighted near the frontier were civilians escaping insecurity inside Somalia, not foreign troops. He framed the reports as politically driven and unhelpful to security work.

“There is no cause for alarm,” he said, promising stepped-up surveillance and intelligence sharing along the border, a frontier that has absorbed Kenyan resources and attention for more than a decade.

The government’s line reflects a familiar reflex in fragile borderlands: lower the temperature, avoid panic, and deny adversaries the satisfaction of seeing disunity. In a season when rumors jump from WhatsApp groups to television tickers in minutes, officials know language is a tool—perhaps as potent as the patrols themselves.

What Mandera leaders say

On the other side of the argument, Mandera’s political leaders describe something more tangible. Senator Ali Roba and Governor Mohamed Adan Khalif say armed units affiliated with Somalia’s Jubaland administration moved into Mandera in mid-August, establishing positions in parts of the town. They pointed to a local school, Bordan Primary, shuttered weeks before national exams, as evidence of a security clampdown gone awry.

Businesses have gone quiet, they say; some families have fled; the fear is not theoretical. Roba called the situation “a humiliation of our sovereignty,” while Governor Khalif accused security agencies of looking the other way and urged Ethiopia to avoid using Mandera as a staging ground for operations tied to Somalia’s conflicts.

These are not casual allegations. The county’s economy is fragile and border towns like Mandera—abutting Somalia’s Beled Hawo and Ethiopia’s Suftu—live in cycles of anxiety that rise and fall with news from across the line. When officials say shops are closed and classrooms are empty, that is a measure of daily life more than geopolitics.

A border shaped by war next door

To understand why this story matters, remember the geography. Mandera sits at a pinch point where Kenya, Somalia, and Ethiopia meet. Across a dry riverbed, Beled Hawo, in Somalia’s Jubaland state, has seen its share of politics by other means. The Kenyan military entered Somalia in 2011 to push back al-Shabaab and later joined the African Union mission. Nairobi has, for years, cultivated ties with Jubaland’s leadership as a buffer against the jihadist insurgency.

That policy has brought both dividends and dilemmas. Kenya’s northern border counties have suffered some of the country’s worst terrorist attacks. In 2014, gunmen killed 28 people on a bus near Mandera town. Weeks later, quarry workers were massacred. The memory lingers in how people listen to footsteps and watch the horizon.

There is also the precedent of spillover. In 2021, clashes between Somali federal and regional forces in Beled Hawo sent bullets and fear across into Mandera. Residents took shelter as the state tried to keep the fight next door from becoming a crisis at home. When leaders say they have seen this movie before, they are not imagining it.

The politics of wording

“Incursion.” “Refugees.” “Stabilization.” Words can reframe the same set of events. If armed actors from Somalia crossed onto Kenyan soil—whether pursuing enemies or seeking sanctuary—that is a sovereignty question. If frightened families did, that is a humanitarian one. If both happened at once, as often occurs in border emergencies, officials must walk a narrow line between protecting citizens and upholding regional diplomacy.

It is notable that the Interior Ministry’s reassurance came alongside a promise to enhance border surveillance. That is standard, but it also signals an awareness that perception can harden into political fact. For a national government keen to project control, the idea of foreign troops camping in a Kenyan school is intolerable. For county leaders accountable to neighbors they see at the market and mosque, underplaying fear can look like abandonment.

Al-Shabaab, ATMIS drawdown, and a moving front

Behind this dispute is the more stubborn story: al-Shabaab remains resilient, and the security map of southern Somalia is in flux. As the African Union’s transition mission reduces its footprint and Somali forces assume greater responsibility, regional states like Jubaland face pressure to hold and expand territory. In such contexts, forces reposition. Factions probe. Civilians run. And borders—especially those with family, trade, and clan ties that predate the modern state—blur.

Kenya’s calculus is complicated by this churn. A buffer policy can mean closer relationships with regional actors across the border, but it also risks drawing Kenya into their internal feuds. Add Ethiopia’s security interests along the frontier and you have a triangle in which small missteps can create large storms.

Lives in the balance

Little of this political choreography matters to a parent in Mandera trying to get a teenager ready for exams, or a shopkeeper wondering if it’s safe to open. Schools closing ahead of tests is not an abstraction; it can change a young person’s trajectory. Businesses shutting their doors can push already precarious households into poverty.

Residents often describe the soundscape of insecurity: the crack of a rifle somewhere across the dry riverbed, then the wail of a siren, then the silence that follows when people decide not to risk the walk to work. In a place where the price of sugar and the arrival of a bus from Wajir can be the day’s news, the presence—or even rumor—of armed men is enough to stall a town’s rhythm.

What to watch next

• Independent verification: Satellite imagery, geolocated videos, and corroborated eyewitness accounts could clarify whether armed units crossed into Kenyan territory and where they positioned.
• Official communiqués: A joint statement by the Interior Ministry and the Kenya Defence Forces would indicate whether Nairobi views this as a political rumor or a security event.
• Local impact: The reopening of Bordan Primary School, and whether commerce resumes, will be a real-time barometer of risk in Mandera town.
• Cross-border coordination: Any publicized meetings between Kenya, the Jubaland administration, and Ethiopia would show if quiet diplomacy is underway.
• The al-Shabaab factor: A spike in attacks or attempted infiltrations along the border would change priorities rapidly for all actors.

The bottom line

In Mandera, where the edge of Kenya is also the edge of several wars, rumors can save lives or start panics. The government says there is nothing to fear. County leaders say they are seeing a slow-motion encroachment that cannot be ignored. Both sides, it seems, share one hope: keep Mandera out of Somalia’s conflict while keeping al-Shabaab out of Kenya. How they balance truth-telling, face-saving, and the duty to protect will shape which story becomes reality.

Perhaps the most urgent question is the simplest: what do the people of Mandera need right now? Clear information. Steady security. Open schools. And an assurance that their town will not be turned, yet again, into a front line for someone else’s war.

By Ali Musa
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.