The brutal mining conquest: Inside Devki's iron ore clash in Taita Taveta

Kenya’s mining industry is once again engulfed in a storm, one riddled with murky land deals, state-facilitated corporate dominance, and the systematic sidelining of local communities.

At the epicentre lies a familiar pattern—rich mineral deposits buried in neglected, peripheral regions where mining law can easily be ignored, land ownership records are deliberately kept chaotic, and where grassroots institutions, both the state and civil society, are too weak to resist exploitation.

This sinister pattern has long gripped Kishushe Ranch in Taita Taveta County. Though legally owned by a community cooperative society, the ranch has endured decades of pillaging by external, unscrupulous investors, yet the residents remain chained in poverty.

Attempts by the state to intervene, such as former Mining Cabinet Secretary Najib Balala’s high-profile 2013 cancellation of 31 mining licences covering 4.5 million acres, offered no cure.

The purge, tainted by secrecy, is only the tip of the iceberg of the deeper rot within the ministry. Under President William Ruto’s government, a stinky but no less ruthless campaign is underway across the country’s extractive zones.

Devki Group, a corporate behemoth that has, in recent years, renewed its voracious appetite for mineral-rich land in politically marginalised territories, is embroiled in the tussle over Kishushe.

Over the last three years, Devki has funnelled more than Sh50 billion into two major iron ore processing plants in Samburu and a cement clinker facility in West Pokot.

Its footprints in the marginalised territories are bold, the tactics brutal, and the goal unmistakable: complete control.

President Ruto commissioned two of Devki’s projects and this year launched the construction of the Taita Taveta iron ore plant in Manga shopping centre along the Nairobi–Mombasa highway in Taita Taveta County. The company had earlier acquired a 500-acre piece of land from another private ranch to put up the plant.

In 2022, and in an unexpected turn of events, Devki, for the first time, thrust itself into Kishushe Ranch Cooperative Society, once heralded as a textbook example of successful community land ownership. The result was immediate turmoil.

The cooperative's leadership, which holds the key to the entry of any investor into mining on community-owned land, splintered just as Devki’s intentions became public.

Allegations of bribery, coercion, and state-sponsored manipulation immediately surfaced. The firm’s management has, however, in the past denied these allegations.

Devki, which had already imported the machinery for plant construction, quickly ran into a problem. The mineral-rich lands were under the control of local artisanal miners and a cooperative that had already aligned itself with another rival investor, Acher Post Ltd, which has also applied for a mining licence after over five years of engagement with the Kishushe Cooperative Society.

Kenya’s mining protocols are clear. An investor must present their proposal to the cooperative’s management committee owning the land.

A meeting ensues where the investor lays bare how they intend to implement the project, highlighting how the cooperative members will benefit from the project.

If accepted by the community committee, the proposal is escalated to a full members’ AGM or a special meeting convened for that sole purpose, where the proposal is scrutinised by members through questions and views. Only after thorough vetting and consensus does the committee draft an agreement.

Lease documents seen by The Standard have been signed by one society faction led by Danson Kidai Mwandoto and some members of his group.

The county government has since been accused of taking a partisan side in this project, which has faced a turbulent time over the years, favouring Mwandoto's faction.

Two other groups have been claiming to be the rightful managers of the over 60,000-acre land. One of the factions is led by a former secondary principal, Chombo Shete, who claims to hold the title deed, and another is led by Matlida Walegwa Mwangondi.

“Devki bypassed this process,” said one of the faction’s leaders. “They cut a deal with a splinter group that wasn’t lawfully elected, which ignored the fact that there were other investors who had pitched their interest in the ranch.”

Devki Group now admits that this fresh development could derail the project.

"County and national cooperative authorities are validating the actual registered Kishushe Ranching officials so that they can determine the rightful leadership, as this has been a major problem in the ranch for many years,” a Devki official who agreed to be quoted anonymously said.

A source close to the project told The Standard that the Devki Group was the third company in recent years to have shown interest in the iron ore in Kishushe.

When the new governor took office, the cooperative community commitee requested to look for investors to utilise the 3,000-acre land, and hence the entry of Devki into the fray.

On 13 July 2025, armed with an agreement from one of the opposing factions, Devki set off to the ground with agents with the intention of starting to clear bush for iron ore mining.

They met huge resistance on the ground from irate residents and a fresh demand to produce community consent and mining licences. The situation grew tense until the local OCPD intervened, urging both sides to negotiate a truce.

Six days later, Devki returned, prompting another confrontation. This time, police officers, accompanied by the OCPD, intervened again, with one of the rival factions filing a formal trespass complaint with police.

A temporary 21-day ceasefire was negotiated under police supervision. On 27 July, officials from the Land and Mining and Cooperatives departments arrived on site, as the OCPD had earlier suggested, so that the county government's position on the disputed land could become clear.

“The Mining Executive claimed ignorance of the crisis,” said one of the protesting cooperative members. “The Cooperatives Executive, on the other hand, said it was too early for county intervention since mining licences fall under the national government. He added that the county would only assess documentation after mining begins and that private land use was beyond the county government's jurisdiction.”

Before the 21-day ceasefire had lapsed, Devki deployed workers once more. Over 200 irate cooperative members stormed the site and demolished a temporary iron-sheet structure erected on the disputed land. Police were called in again and arrested two of the protesting members and charged them with malicious property damage. They were later released on Sh30,000 bail each on 3 July.

“We have not seen the lease documents, and if it is there, then we do not recognise it,” stated Christine Zighe, Lands and Mining Executive, adding that the purported ranch officials who issued the lease agreement to the investor had no moral authority to do so. And as far as they were concerned, the ranch is embroiled in endless leadership wrangles.

Despite the fury, documents in our possession show that the Mwandoto-led group inked a lease with Devki effective 1 December 2024. The agreement includes a Sh100-per-tonne royalty and a monthly Sh50,000 rent for a lease of 45,000 acres with automatic renewal. These terms, however, have failed to calm the broader membership, who feel dispossessed and unheard.

Devki insists it adhered to procedure, yet the company’s decision to push land clearance ahead of official gazettement has fuelled suspicions of a state-sanctioned land grab. This is reinforced by the fact that the trespass case reported to the police has never been acted upon.

Former ranch chairman Mwandawiro Mbela, who also claims to hold the original land title, argues that the lease is illegitimate.

“Devki never renewed its exploratory licence,” he said. “We are demanding its cancellation. A 45-year lease under these circumstances is a joke.”

Governor Mwadime, once vocal in his support for community control and local mineral sales, has since retreated into silence. Devki’s history elsewhere suggests a familiar playbook—full control, minimal local benefit, and outright displacement of small-scale miners and indigenous landowners.

In the neighbouring Kwale County in Samburu, Devki’s steel project rose on land forcibly taken from locals lacking formal title deeds. Compensation was meagre—just Sh30,000 per acre of ancestral land. Petitions to agencies like the National Environmental Management Authority (NEMA) and the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights (KNCHR) have vanished into bureaucratic black holes.

Devki Chairman Narendra Raval continues to promise transformation. He speaks of jobs, skills transfer, and community development. He points to 15 youths undergoing training at the Samburu facility and pledges local employment and CSR projects. “This is a major win for the county,” he told regional leaders.

But on the ground, those words feel hollow. Across multiple regions, Devki’s presence is increasingly associated with secrecy, forced evictions, and corporate bullying disguised as development.