Ogiek have little to celebrate as evictions, broken court promises persist

Johnson Takur, address members of the Ogiek during a consultative meeting on the ongoing registration process of the community land after court reverted the land back to the community.[File]

For the Ogiek community, the songs, dancing and colourful displays at the 7th Ogiek Cultural Festival on Friday, August 14, 2026 were meant to celebrate identity, heritage and resilience.

Instead, the gathering in Nkareta, Narok North, became a powerful indictment of a government the community accuses of ignoring court orders, perpetuating historical injustices and allowing the continued displacement of indigenous families from their ancestral land.

Held under the theme “Cultural Resilience in Diversity,” the festival brought together community elders, leaders and residents to showcase Ogiek traditions while renewing demands for the full implementation of landmark judgments recognising their rights to their ancestral territories.

Ogiek Peoples’ Development Program (OPDP) founder and executive director Daniel Kobei said the community had every reason to celebrate its culture, but little reason to celebrate its treatment by the State.

“We are here to celebrate who we are, where we came from, what we have preserved as an indigenous community and what we must continue to protect for generations to come, despite the land rights challenges facing this community,” Kobei said.

At the heart of the community's anger is the Kenyan government's alleged failure to implement landmark decisions of the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights (AfCHPR).

The court ruled in favour of the Ogiek in May 2017, finding violations of their rights in relation to their ancestral land in the Mau Forest. A subsequent judgment in June 2022 addressed reparations.

Yet, nearly a decade after the initial ruling, the community says the judgments have not translated into security of tenure, meaningful compensation or an end to evictions.

Fresh compliance proceedings and non-compliance findings in late 2025 have only sharpened the frustration.

For Kobei, the message to the government is straightforward: the time for promises and legal manoeuvring is over.

“It is time for the Government of Kenya to act,” he said.

The dispute has become particularly painful as Ogiek families continue to face eviction from parts of the Mau Forest.

Wilson Memusi, chairman of the Narok chapter of the Ogiek Council of Elders, condemned the eviction of hundreds of hunter-gatherer families from Sasimwani in the Maasai Mau Forest.

He said families were removed without adequate notice or alternative settlement arrangements, despite the African Court's rulings in favour of the community.

“Using environmental conservation as an excuse to displace the traditional indigenous custodians who protect the forest is unjust,” Memusi said.

He accused authorities of violating judgments that recognised the Ogiek's historical and legal claims to their ancestral lands.

The elders' position reflects a long-running tension at the heart of the Ogiek land question: how to protect forests without dispossessing the communities that have historically depended on them and regard them as ancestral territory.

‘What Are They Celebrating?’

The frustration was echoed by Nkareta Ward MCA Francis Ole Kuyioni, who said the community's problems have deepened rather than eased.

“The government has forgotten them. I am not sure what they are celebrating today,” Kuyioni said.

He cited land dispossession, historical injustices, inadequate healthcare and marginalisation among the challenges facing the Ogiek.

Kuyioni called on all stakeholders to pressure the government into addressing the community's grievances and appealed to President William Ruto to establish a compensation programme for Ogiek families affected by forest evictions.

His appeal follows government compensation efforts involving other communities evicted from forests, including Kipsigis families displaced from forest areas in 2019.

For the Ogiek, the question is increasingly one of equality before the law: if compensation and resettlement can be considered for other displaced communities, why, they ask, has their own claim remained unresolved despite international court victories?

Against this backdrop, the festival offered a reminder of what is at stake beyond land and compensation.

The event showcased traditional songs, rhythmic drumming, colourful attire, traditional honey harvesting and indigenous knowledge passed from one generation to another.

Community elders, traditional birth attendants and indigenous midwives were recognised for preserving knowledge and practices that have survived decades of social, economic and environmental change.

The Ogiek also highlighted their deep ancestral, medicinal and spiritual connections to the Mau and Mount Elgon forests.

Organisers promoted cultural tourism, open-air exhibitions and living museums as potential avenues for preserving heritage while creating sustainable livelihoods.

But speakers warned that culture cannot survive in isolation from land.

For a community whose identity is deeply intertwined with the forest, the loss of ancestral territory threatens not only homes and livelihoods but also language, traditional knowledge, spiritual practices and the transmission of culture to younger generations.

Narok County Executive Committee Member for Tourism, Wildlife and Culture Robert Simotwo, who was the chief guest, stressed the importance of preserving Ogiek food, dressing, language and other cultural practices.

“Everyone needs to know, if we are going to lose any of these items, what we are going to lose is identity,” Simotwo said. “You can only be assimilated if you deliberately choose to lose your identity.”

His remarks captured the central contradiction confronting the community: a people being encouraged to celebrate and preserve their identity while, according to their leaders, continuing to lose the land and security that sustain that identity.

The Ogiek's experience exposes a wider question about the effectiveness of international human rights rulings in Kenya.

Winning a case may establish a legal principle. But for communities on the ground, victory means little if families remain vulnerable to eviction, compensation remains unpaid, and court orders are not fully implemented.

The Ogiek say that is precisely where their struggle now stands.

Their festival therefore became more than a cultural gathering. It was a public demand for accountability.

The community is asking the government to implement the African Court's decisions, address historical injustices, compensate those entitled to reparations and provide lasting protection for Ogiek ancestral land.

Until that happens, the celebration of culture will remain shadowed by an uncomfortable reality: the Ogiek can preserve their songs, language and traditions, but they cannot preserve a culture whose ancestral foundation is steadily being taken away.

For a community that has already won historic recognition in court, the battle is no longer simply about proving who they are. It is about forcing the State to act on what the courts have already said.