For Trans Mara residents, it's a Christmas of fear and hunger

The Christmas mood is rippling across the country. But in Trans Mara South and West, the season has arrived carrying fear.

On days that should have been filled with carols, laughter and shared meals, classrooms and church halls have instead become shelters of the last resort. Following clashes that have rocked the area, families fled under cover of darkness, clutching children and livestock as gunfire echoed and flames consumed their homes.

For many in Trans Mara, Christmas will not be marked by celebration, but by grief and the hope that peace will come before more lives are lost.

At Sankale Primary School, now a crowded shelter, survivors of the Angata clashes spoke of terror, loss and lives torn apart.

David Kirui, a farmer, said he was tending his land when gunfire erupted without warning. He fled with nothing, leaving behind his home, his crops and his family.

“I ran to save my life,” he said, staring at the classroom floor.

For David Koech, the violence brought unimaginable pain. He recalled hearing gunshots, screams and warnings for residents to flee. As people ran in all directions, some were being killed and houses torched. Later, he learned that two of his children had died.

“Everything changed in one day,” he said.

Gilbert Korir, a boda boda operator, was preparing to start his day’s work when the violence broke out. He abandoned his motorcycle - bought on loan - and ran. With it went his only source of income.

Naitigeen Bett, a mother, was washing clothes at a nearby river when she heard gunshots and screams. She ran home, abandoning everything, only to find her children missing. After a frantic search, she found them hiding in a neighbour’s house, shaken, but alive.

Their stories reflect the deep trauma unfolding in Trans Mara South, where families have been displaced, livelihoods destroyed and survivors left pleading for help.

Bett now sits on the floor of a classroom that doubles up as her home. A thin mattress leans against the wall. Days blur into nights as hunger, cold and uncertainty set in.

“We ran with nothing. No clothes, no food. Now this is where we live,” she says, her voice barely audible.

Days after fleeing, Bett says no food, medical supplies or bedding had reached the displaced families. Mothers worry about how to feed their children. The elderly lie on the bare floor. The sick hope the illness does not get worse.

Joseph Tonui, another resident, fears most for those least able to endure the harsh conditions — young children, the elderly and the sick.

“There is no medicine here, no clinic. If a child falls sick at night, where do we go? Who helps us?” he asked.

Tonui says officials and humanitarian agencies had promised to return with assistance, but help never came. His plea is simple: food, medicine and reassurance that the violence will end.

For others, survival has meant sacrifice. Kirui, the farmer who fled his land, donated 1.5 hectares of maize crop to feed displaced families when the clashes erupted. Now, with schools set to reopen and his own reserves depleted, he wonders how long he can keep going.

“We helped because we had to. But now we are all struggling. Hunger does not choose sides,” he said.

The violence flared more than two weeks ago along the Lolgorian–Angata Barikoi border, leaving at least seven people dead and forcing thousands to flee. Entire villages were reduced to ashes as more than 120 houses were torched.

Jane Chererot had been preparing for Christmas with her children when word spread that attackers were approaching.

“We ran in the dark,” she recalled from a church hall now crowded with families. “We left everything behind — food, clothes, even our beds.”

Her children keep asking when they will go home.

“I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know if there is a home to return to,” she said, wiping away tears.

At a nearby school, Rachael Rono gestured toward a classroom where dozens sleep on the floor.

“There is no food, and the children are exposed to cold and disease,” she said.

In Angata Barikoi, the pain has been so deep that some churches have suspended Christmas services entirely.

“As church leaders, we agreed to suspend all Christmas services and festivities. It would be insensitive to celebrate while families are mourning loved ones and others remain displaced. This is a time for prayer, reflection and standing in solidarity with those who are hurting,” said John Ngeno, an Angata Barikoi AIC pastor.

Transmara’s beautiful rolling hills and fertile valleys tell a story of abundance — maize fields, sugarcane plantations, forests and rivers nourished by year-round rainfall. To outsiders, it appears a land of promise.

To residents, it is a place haunted by mistrust.

For decades, Angata Barikoi and surrounding areas have endured cycles of inter-community conflict driven by land disputes, cattle rustling and weak land governance. The region has long been classified as a banditry hotspot.

Anne Chepkwony, a resident, says the national government must acknowledge the area’s unique challenges.

“People here have died because of cattle raids and land disputes for many years,” she said. “We need lasting solutions, not temporary deployments.”

Land disputes lie at the heart of many violent confrontations. Poor documentation, historical injustices and overlapping claims have left communities feeling cheated.

In June, three people were shot dead and seven others injured during clashes between police and residents over disputed land at Oloirien Group Ranch in Kimintet Ward. The conflict centres on a 288.83-hectare parcel declared an adjudication section in 1975, part of which was later allegedly alienated without community consent.

In April, five people were killed when government surveyors attempted to carve out land claimed by Kipsigis families from the disputed Angata Barikoi–Moyoi area, despite existing court orders.

Although the government says recent surveys have clarified boundaries and resolved long-standing disputes, residents remain sceptical, citing decades of broken promises.

This Christmas, the cost of unresolved conflict is visible everywhere. Churches stand quiet. Villages lie deserted. Children who should be opening gifts sleep on classroom floors, listening for footsteps in the night.

“We are tired. We just want peace. We just want our lives back,” said Bett, watching her children gnaw on sugarcane.

As panic spread, security agencies deployed officers across Trans Mara East, West and South. Yesterday Rift Valley Regional Police Commander Samwel Ndanyi visited Sankale Primary School, promising protection and government support. He also arranged transport for families seeking refuge in safer areas such as Emurua Dikirr.

Deputy Inspector General of Police Eliud Lagat earlier announced a special security operation, accompanied by a dusk-to-dawn curfew. Two suspects have been arrested, including Lolgorian MCA Michael Seme, while others remain at large.

But for residents who have lived through cycles of violence before, promises offer little comfort.

Political leaders insist the crisis cannot be solved by security operations alone. Emurua Dikirr MP Johana Ngeno renewed calls for comprehensive disarmament, blaming the proliferation of illegal firearms for the recurring bloodshed.

“These guns are fuelling killings and revenge attacks. Until they are removed, peace will not last,” he said.

Narok County Commissioner Kipkech Lotiatia announced a 14-day amnesty for residents to surrender illegal weapons, warning that forceful mop-up operations would follow.

“Those who fail to comply will have themselves to blame,” he said.

The Kenya Red Cross estimates that more than 1,800 people have been displaced and urgently need food, shelter, clean water and medical care. Women, children and persons with disabilities have been hit hardest, many having lost everything to fire.

Regional Commissioner Ali Hassan vowed firm action.

“There will be no sacred cows when it comes to matters of security,” he said.

A recent peace dialogue collapsed after some community leaders failed to attend. Days later, tensions spiked again when a man was shot dead along the Lolgorian–Angata Barikoi road while returning from a graduation ceremony at Kabarak University.

“We thought things were calming down,” said Johanna Kamilan.

inga Stadium in Homa Bay. [James Omoro, Standard]