KAPESE, Kenya — At first glance, there is little to suggest that Kapese, a dusty settlement of traditional manyattas and free-roaming livestock scattered across the parched landscape of northern Kenya’s Turkana region, is the epicenter of the country’s oil ambitions. Beyond a couple of boreholes and a small primary school bearing the logo of Tullow Oil, the Anglo-Irish company that first discovered significant crude deposits here near the town of Lokichar in 2010, little of the development once promised to residents has materialized. Since Tullow halted operations in 2020 after more than a decade of setbacks and spiraling debt, much of the extractive infrastructure that punctuated the surrounding scrubland has also been dismantled. Locals have stripped gates and fencing from the well pads for scrap metal. Heavy plastic liners, once used to store drilling waste, now stretch across the roofs of many nearby manyattas. Yet, as one approaches the Twiga oil well, where several waste pits sit in long rows like burial sites behind a chain-link  fence topped with coils of razor wire, a faint, acrid smell of petroleum still hangs in the air. “That smell — you used to be able to smell it from 500 meters away,” said Enock Paule, a local community leader from Kapese, squinting into the harsh midday sun. “You couldn’t even go near this fence.” He recalled bringing a team of Kenyan journalists here some years ago, and several of them vomiting from the stench. Today, Paule and other residents point to these pits as…This article was originally published on Mongabay

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