GARISSA – There’s a palpable change in the air as President William Ruto of Kenya recently announced a decisive shift in policy that’s been long awaited by the Somali community residing in the country’s northeastern region. For decades, the community endured a painstaking bureaucratic process just to obtain identification cards. This policy, entrenched over the past 60 years, has now been dismantled with the president’s decree.
Unveiling this policy shift in the town of Wajir, Ruto articulated a vision of equality and constitutional fidelity. Why, he queried, should citizens living near the borders face harsher scrutiny than their compatriots? He assured, “The discrimination faced by this region’s people for six long decades will finally cease. When a child from Mandera, Wajir, or Garissa seeks an ID, why subject them to needless probing? This must end immediately,” he declared with conviction.
Imagine, if you will, the previous routine: an aspirant for a Kenyan birth certificate or a national ID had to navigate through an exhaustive vetting process. What prompted such rigor? The shared cultural, linguistic, and religious ties with neighbors across borders in Somalia and Ethiopia. To the affected citizens, it often felt more like suspicion than security.
“We desire that the residents of Northern Kenya perceive themselves as equals with every other Kenyan citizen,” Ruto continued, painting his vision with the broad eagerness of a leader set on righting historical wrongs.
In a further commitment to balance and develop regional administration, Ruto announced plans to resurrect the immigration office in Garissa, a critical service node closed for some time. Consider the current burden: residents are compelled to trek all the way to Nairobi—no small feat—for basic documentation. “To shutter the passport office was discriminatory. Government services must be universally accessible, and inclusivity is our pledge,” he reiterated.
Let’s cast our minds back: The vetting process was conceived as a security measure, birthed from the turbulent era of the 1960s’ Shifta insurgency. It was a time when ethnic Somalis and other groups attempted to knit themselves into the fabric of Somalia, igniting tensions—the Shifta War saw its seeds sown in such passionate calls for secession.
Ahead lies the critical 2027 election season, where the northeastern region, emboldened and better represented, might become a pivotal player. Projections suggest the voter register could swell to nearly 2 million souls—a notable bloc. In recent developments, a Kenyan court directed a recount, spotlighting discrepancies in the 2019 population census conducted by the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics.
The winds of change are blowing confidently through the corridors of policy and governance, reshaping narratives once steeped in exclusion. “GALEELO” she’d say, my grandmother, urging us to remember that fair treatment is at the heart of a peaceful nation. Could this change lead to more profound unity and understanding?
