This blog post was written by Foziah Mutali, a Sub-County Coordinator with LifeStraw, on a recent visit to Turkana for program implementation with Mary's Meals.
What began as a road trip to Turkana turned into a powerful reminder of why access to safe water matters. From breathtaking hills to heartbreaking realities...
The Journey Begins
It all started with a bit of worry. Our Project Manager, Nancy, was stressed out because all the flights were fully booked. Dan, Laban, and I half-joked about how great a road trip would be - and as fate would have it, that’s exactly what we got.
The drive to Turkana was long, but incredibly beautiful. Endless hills rolled across the horizon, each one more stunning than the last. Somewhere along the way, I spotted my first baby camel. I was so fascinated that I begged the team to stop the car, jumped out, and followed them for a bit - wishing I could carry one of them in my arms. But the older camels stared at me as if daring me to even try.
Not everything went smoothly, though. Dan was unwell, and for a moment we thought we might have to send him back with the driver. But after a quick stop at a local clinic, he bounced back, ready for the adventure ahead.
Training, Turbidity, and Transformation
Our first activity was training the Mary’s Meals staff on what we intended to do during the LifeStraw installation exercise in the selected schools. We took them through the Large Group, Small Group, and Use & Maintenance trainings. Afterwards, we sang the “Asante LifeStraw” song - and of course, everyone joined in singing and dancing to the famous “Alulu” song.
Later, we were assigned areas to visit. I was supposed to go to Kakuma, but my adrenaline wasn’t ready for a quiet assignment. I requested Lokori - a place where people live in constant fear due to insecurity. Lokori borders West Pokot, and nights there are often filled with uncertainty.
On my second night, I heard what I thought were distant firecrackers. In the morning, Samal, one of the Mary’s Meals staff, casually mentioned they were gunshots. “It’s normal,” he said. “They spotted enemies nearby.” That’s when I realized how much courage it takes to live and work here.
While Laban, who had been posted in Kakuma, shared short videos cruising on proper roads, I found myself deep in Lokori, where roads simply didn’t exist. I still don’t know how we located some of the schools because half the time we were just turning through open land with no visible paths.Most classrooms were made of sticks, and so were the offices and shops. You’d see a stick structure and someone would cheerfully say, “Welcome to our office.” Everything in Turkana feels different, even the termites! The towering termite mounds are so beautifully sculpted you’d mistake them for art installations.
LifeStraw in Action
As we moved through villages and schools, one thing became clear: Turkana is like a different world. Many schools have no buildings - just open fields or a few stones arranged under an Acacia tree or temporary structures. In Kakuma, things are a little better thanks to organizations supporting the refugee camps.
I’ll never forget standing under a small tree with Samal when he told me we had just missed the pupils. It was barely past midday. “They’ve gone home after lunch,” he said. For most children here, school meals are the only meals they get. They come to learn - and to eat. Weekends mean hunger, so while many of us celebrate TGIF (Thank God It’s Friday), these children quietly dread it.
Water scarcity defines life here. Most communities rely on canals and lagas (seasonal rivers). The water is often turbid, odorous, and unsafe. When we demonstrated how the LifeStraw works, it was pure magic. For many, it was their first time seeing clear water. Some hesitated to taste it at first, but after a few brave sips, everyone wanted to try.
Water is a universal language. Despite the barriers in communication, the joy was unmistakable. In that moment, the impact of our work felt so real.
When Beauty Meets Fear
Remember those breathtaking hills I mentioned earlier? I couldn’t stop admiring them, so I shared my excitement with some locals - only for them to tell me that the same hills are often used as hideouts by attackers. What I saw as beauty, they saw as danger. It was a sobering reminder of how different perspectives can be shaped by experience.
On our last day in the field, we found the main road closed, there had been an attack the night before. The area was on high alert, and we had to find an alternative route back to Lodwar. The road might have changed, but our mission didn’t.
The Second Visit: Sampling and Laughter
Months later, I found myself on another road trip heading back to Turkana with 11 other team members, each assigned different areas of work - this time for water sampling and quality testing. Becky and Julie were stationed in the lab while the rest of us were spread across thecounty. My carmates for the road trip were Dan and Kanini. Somewhere along the way, Kanini earned the nickname DJ IK for keeping us dancing throughout the trip.
Dan, as always, captured every beautiful and meaningful moment behind the camera. Dan, Chris, Lihanda, and I were assigned to areas around Lokori, while Laban, Michael, Kanini, Patricia, Wanga, and Shadrack covered other regions. The plan was to return to Lodwar in the evening, but the long distances had other plans. We ended up finding a small place to sleep - fortunately, it had a fridge to keep our samples cool. Of course, this meant I was stuck with Kanini’s entire bag - clothes, essentials, everything. Thankfully, she’s a true fieldwork survivor!
Turkana also has its share of surprises. When it rains in neighboring regions, the county experiences sudden flash floods that fill up the lagas. One afternoon, while returning from the field, we had to wait for the flooded rivers to subside before crossing. Wanga’s team had the same experience and - of course - he didn’t waste the moment; he changed into shorts and started playing in the water! Our Global Programs Manager, Violet, kept calling to remind us to remain patient and not risk our safety. Her calm voice was a reminder that in the field, safety always comes first - no matter how eager we are to get back.
As the days passed, teams spread across Turkana, collecting samples under the blazing sun and ensuring Julie and Becky were extra busy at the lab. When the work finally wrapped up, we made one last stop at the shores of Lake Turkana. There, the children in us took over - we played in the water, laughed, and let the moment wash away the fatigue of fieldwork.
The road trip back to Western Kenya was long but unforgettable. The same hills that once felt foreign now felt familiar, like old friends waving goodbye.
A Journey Beyond Work
Turkana changed me. It reminded me that our work at LifeStraw is more than just providing safe water - it’s about restoring dignity, hope, and health in communities that have been left behind for too long.
If you’ve only been to Lodwar and think you’ve seen Turkana, think again. The real Turkana lives beyond the town - out in the heat of Lokori, along the winding roads of Kalokol, in the laughter of children waiting for lunch, and in the eyes of a community that still dares to hope.
