KAKUMA, TURKANA WEST — The groundnuts were still fresh from the soil when they landed in our hands. Their shells were damp with earth, a reminder that they had only moments earlier been pulled from the ground. My colleague, Joshua Juma, a self-confessed lover of groundnuts, did not wait for them to be roasted. He cracked one open, smiled, then reached for another.
“They’re sweet,” he said.
Nearby, fresh cassava had just been harvested. A few metres away, rows of kale, tomatoes, spinach, beans and maize stretched across a green field that seemed almost impossible.
This is Kakuma a place the world has long associated with refugee camps, humanitarian assistance and food aid. Yet here we were, eating fresh produce grown in one of Kenya’s hottest and driest regions. It was the first hint that another story was unfolding in Turkana West, one that is quietly challenging long-held assumptions about refugees, food security and climate change.
At the centre of that story is a bold declaration repeated by farmers across Choro Farm near the Kalobeyei Integrated Settlement: “Kakuma can feed Turkana.”
At first, the words sound ambitious. Then you meet Eliya.
The Burundian asylum seeker moves confidently through neat rows of vegetables, stopping occasionally to inspect a tomato plant or clear weeds from around a young crop. Years ago, conflict forced him to flee Burundi, leaving behind the only home he had ever known. Like thousands of others escaping violence, he crossed into Kenya seeking safety. He arrived with uncertainty about his future, but one thing remained unchanged—his determination to work.
“I wanted to work,” Eliya says. “I did not want to spend my life waiting.”
Today, farming has become his livelihood. Eliya says every sale from his farm earns him about KSh7,000, income that has enabled him to expand production and employ seven casual labourers. His vegetables supply markets inside Kakuma before reaching customers in the wider Turkana community. For him, the farm is more than a source of income. It is proof that displacement does not have to define a person’s future.
Water is the lifeline of everything growing here. In Turkana West, rain is scarce and unpredictable, forcing farmers to innovate with every season. When seasonal rivers begin flowing during the rainy months, farmers use generators to pump water onto their fields. As the rivers dry up, they shift to shallow wells dug into the sandy riverbeds, drawing underground water using solar-powered pumps.
The system allows farming to continue throughout the year despite temperatures that often climb close to 40 degrees Celsius. It is a practical example of climate-smart agriculture in action.
A few rows away, Kanedza Winnie carefully harvests leafy vegetables before placing them into a basket. Like Eliya, she fled Burundi hoping to find safety in Kenya. Today, she measures progress not in the number of years spent in exile, but in the harvests she takes to market. She says farming has transformed her life, allowing her to earn an income, feed her family and regain a sense of purpose.
Nearby, Kamedza Shadra prepares vegetables for the next market day. She believes farming is changing how refugees are perceived. Rather than waiting for assistance, she says, refugees are proving they can produce food, create opportunities and contribute to the economy of the communities that welcomed them.
The vegetables harvested at Choro Farm end up on dinner tables across Kakuma and Turkana West, linking refugee farmers with traders, consumers and host communities. For the three farmers, the dream extends beyond earning a living. They believe Kakuma can become a food basket for Turkana.
That ambition is gaining attention beyond the settlement.
According to UNHCR, Kenya hosted 869,501 refugees and asylum seekers by the end of 2025, with more than 309,000 living in Kakuma Refugee Camp and the neighbouring Kalobeyei Integrated Settlement. Increasingly, the agency has shifted its focus beyond emergency assistance, supporting programmes that promote self-reliance, livelihoods and economic inclusion for refugees alongside host communities.
The World Food Programme (WFP) has repeatedly warned that Kenya’s arid and semi-arid lands, including Turkana, are on the frontline of the climate crisis. Recurrent droughts, erratic rainfall and land degradation continue to threaten livelihoods, making climate-smart agriculture an essential tool for building resilient food systems. Rather than relying solely on food assistance, humanitarian agencies are investing in irrigation, sustainable farming, water management and local markets to help communities adapt to a changing climate.
The transformation is already visible across parts of Kakuma and Kalobeyei.
Beyond vegetable farming, refugee and host-community groups are producing honey through modern beekeeping, creating another source of income while supporting environmental restoration. Others are successfully rearing fish, demonstrating that aquaculture can thrive even in one of Kenya’s driest counties with the right technology and reliable water sources. Together, these initiatives are creating something few would have imagined inside a refugee settlement: a growing green economy.
Earlier this year, an international report by Deutsche Presse-Agentur (DPA) documented similar efforts around Kakuma, highlighting how farmers are restoring degraded land using drip irrigation, rainwater harvesting and efficient water management. John Lomulenog, who manages one of the demonstration farms near Kakuma, described how land once considered too dry for cultivation is now producing millet, okra and spinach through climate-smart farming techniques. His observations mirror what is happening at Choro Farm.
The story unfolding here is no longer only about surviving drought. It is about adapting to it. It is about restoring degraded land. It is about creating livelihoods where few believed they were possible. Above all, it is about changing the narrative surrounding refugees.
For decades, refugee settlements have been viewed primarily as places of dependence. But the fields of Kakuma tell another story.
A refugee who fled war now employs seven people. Women who once depended on humanitarian assistance now earn an income from vegetables grown under the scorching Turkana sun. Families are harvesting cassava, kale, tomatoes, beans and groundnuts from land many assumed could never sustain agriculture.
As we prepared to leave Choro Farm, Joshua reached for one last handful of fresh groundnuts. Around us, workers continued harvesting vegetables destined for markets across Kakuma.
The irony was impossible to miss: thousands of kilometres from the country where he was born, Eliya was helping feed families in Kenya. Standing among the green fields, the slogan no longer felt like optimism.
It felt like reality Kakuma can feed Turkana.
