Energy and Petroleum Cabinet Secretary Opiyo Wandayi is set to land in Kitui South and Kitui East today for an official inspection of ongoing government electrification projects. However, his visit comes at a moment of deep grief and growing insecurity in the region, following the brutal killing of two locals in Endau Malalani earlier this week, allegedly by armed Somali herders in a fierce clash over grazing land.
What was initially expected to be a celebration of rural development has instead taken the tone of a high-stakes mission—into a region battling both darkness and death. While Wandayi will be inspecting progress under the Kenya Off-Grid Solar Access Project (KOSAP) and the Last Mile Connectivity Programme, residents in vast parts of Kitui South and East say electrification has remained a distant promise. Many villages, including Mutha, Zombe, Voo, Mutito, and Endau, continue to live without power. Schools, hospitals, and homes remain in the dark, depending on firewood and kerosene, even as billions have been allocated for rural energy expansion.
But it is not just electricity that the people of Kitui are lacking. As two families prepare to bury their loved ones, shot dead by alleged herders in Endau Malalani, the conversation has shifted sharply toward security—or the lack of it. Residents describe an increasingly volatile situation, with herders crossing from neighboring counties, armed and emboldened, invading farms, and clashing violently with local farmers. The latest killings mirror a disturbing pattern. Over the past year, multiple deaths have been reported in Mutha, Kalambani, Kyuso, and parts of Kitui East. In some instances, families have fled their homes, unable to withstand the tension and fear brought by heavily armed herders seeking pasture.
Despite the escalating crisis, elected leaders have remained conspicuously absent from the conversation. Both Kitui South MP Rachel Kaki Nyamai and Kitui East MP Nimrod Mbai, elected under the Jubilee and UDA party tickets, have not issued any public statements regarding the killings. Their silence has been met with outrage on the ground, where many believe their leaders have abandoned them in their time of greatest need. Residents say they feel invisible—without electricity, without security, and without a voice in government.
County Commissioner Kipchumba Ruto, during a media address earlier in the week, sidestepped the issue of the killings altogether. Instead, he focused on the illegal charcoal trade, warning that anyone caught engaging in charcoal production or sale would face arrest and prosecution. While environmental enforcement is a priority, many residents felt the commissioner’s omission of the recent deaths and the broader pastoralist conflict was a painful reminder of how disconnected state officials remain from the day-to-day horrors facing ordinary citizens.
As CS Wandayi’s motorcade rolls through Kitui South and East, residents will be watching closely—not just for promises of grid lines and transformers, but for a sign that someone in government finally sees them. In these forgotten parts of Kitui, development without security is an empty gesture. Electricity without peace means little when lives are still being lost. Today, Kitui is not just asking for power—it’s demanding protection, justice, and leaders who are not afraid to confront the truth.
Because in this corner of Kenya, progress is no longer measured in megawatts, but in how many people are still alive to switch the lights on.
