In September 2011, I was invited to Nairobi for an interview with former SAS Colonel, Rob Andrew, the MD and CEO of Salama Fikira Ltd., a security and risk management company, run jointly by Rob and fellow director, Conrad Thorpe, a former Royal Marines SBS commanding officer.

I was offered the job of Field Security Advisor to Tullow Oil, who had contracted Weatherford Drilling of Canada to drill a series of exploration holes in Turkana, a remote and arid desert region of northern Kenya.

Not long after I joined, the two directors went their own ways; Conrad Thorpe retained Salama Fakiri and Rob Andrew’s company became Newport Africa, with whom I remained. Within weeks of the interview, I found myself deployed to the remote semi-desert of Turkana, on an isolated oil exploration rig, at a site named Ngamia 1 (Ngamia is the Swahili for ‘Camel’ – of which animals there were hundreds in the area, being the beasts of burden and a source of sustenance for the Turkana people).

The rig site was classified by the Government of Kenya as a “vital installation” and, therefore, had been assigned Government security forces to secure it.

My responsibility was, therefore (with my back-to-back counterpart) the managing a rotational guard force of 20+ Administration Police (APs) which was a National paramilitary force uniformly dressed and operationally similar to the Army, originally formed in the days of the Mau-Mau uprising and armed with Heckler & Koch G3 rifles.

Also, we had 20+ Kenyan Police Reservists (KPRs). A KPR was a sort of ‘neighbourhood watch’ askari, drawn from the Turkana community. KPRs were armed with a variety of weapons from Heckler & Koch G3 rifles to ancient .303 Lee Enfields to old Kalashnikovs.

Along with the government personnel, we had 20 unarmed Newport Africa security guards (recruited from Lokichar and Lodwar, and whom I trained from scratch). These, along with the armed guys, would man watchtowers and control access and so on.

The purpose of our presence was to maintain security of the site to prevent any trespass or theft, prevent the entry of any illegal firearms or explosives, and any contraband by the rig crews (mainly alcohol), and to secure the surrounding area, to defend the rig and personnel against any acts of terrorism by al Qaida or al Shabaab or disgruntled tribesmen.

There were frequent occurrences of armed and violent cattle raiding in the area, between the Turkana and the neighbouring Pokot – a traditional pastime, it seemed, that had existed for centuries. So, we also had to ensure that the violence did not spill over onto the rig site. Therefore, I planned and deployed both 2km-deep foot patrols around the rig skite, and 4km-deep mobile patrols.

We, the security force, were tasked with escorting the rig workers to-and-from the airstrip on crew-change days. The airstrip was located in Lokichar, 29km distant, and we also had to secure the airstrip during the take-off and landing of the aircraft.

I compiled and facilitated daily training sessions that included patrolling techniques, CT access control and searches, vehicle escorts, and mobile vehicular ambush drills for when we moved the crew to and from the airstrip, etc.

I was lucky enough not to be confined to camp as the rig workers were, and could go out with the patrols sometimes, to do in-the-field training or just to get out for a walk in the desert.

I would often just go off on my own for a stroll around the outer perimeter. The desert was not just bare sand… there were acacia trees everywhere and in the seasonal run-offs were fig and other deciduous trees. The bird life in the area was pretty good, and I managed to identify several species which before now I had never seen. There were, as would be expected, plenty of scorpions, but one of the other nasty things to watch out for was the Camel Spider.^[ii]

I am not afraid of spiders or scorpions or other ‘creepy crawly’ animals – I mean, in my childhood, that was all I was interested in. But these camel spiders? They’re a different story. Horrible looking, vicious predators and huge, fast monsters! They don’t like the hot sun, so they move very quickly from shade to shade. If they get into the shadow of a human, and the human moves, the spider will, follow, to remain in the shade. The faster the human moves, the faster goes the spider, the human runs and the spider runs, giving the impression that it is chasing the human.

There were many African Saw-scaled Vipers ^[iii] around, and these snakes were frequently found in the watchtowers, causing great alarm amongst the security guards. Once, there was one which had entwined itself through a chain-link fence surrounding the guards’ tented camp. I removed it by pulling it out gently by the tip of its tail, slowing dragging against its own resistance until it was free. Holding the snake at arm’s length, I took it away. The snake was hanging down but coiling and striking at me. Fortunately, it was only about 18 inches long, so couldn’t connect his little fangs with my arm or body. As walked from the staff tents towards the front gate I cleared a swathe of staff, yelping with disbelief, as if I was some sort of magician or witch doctor.

There was a range of low altitude mountains as a backdrop to the rig site, and between it and the rig stood a low hill, with a summit of about 900m ASL, but with an altitude gain on the climb of about 85m. We called it simply ‘The Viewpoint’. I would get up there at least twice on each rotation. With the range of hills behind me, the view across miles and miles of desert from this viewpoint was fantastic and exhilarating.

I loved being out in the desert. It was so different to the bush I was used to when on safari and it was the first time I had seen a Rhinoceros beetle. There were some incredible termite mounds, with tall chimneys, that allow hot air to escape, to keep the interior of the termite colony cool.

To regularly liaise with local government and National security agencies, to maintain good relationships and a flow of necessary information, I got out of camp a couple of times a week and drove 28kms into Lokichar (a dusty trading centre, sprawling either side of the main ‘road’ between Lodwar and Lokichoggio). I would sometimes walk with a local interpreter to a nearby manyatta and chat with the local pastoralists or pass by the manyatta while on a patrol out training the guys.

The Turkana people call themselves ŋiTurkana (The Turkana). The name means the people of Turkan. They are mainly semi-nomadic pastoralists who are noted for raising camels, although some in the north raise mainly cattle. Both use donkeys for transportation and they will occasionally eat them. In their oral traditions they designate themselves ‘the people of the grey bull’, after the Zebu, the domestication of which played an important role in their history.

In recent years, development aid programs have aimed at introducing fishing among the Turkana (a taboo in some sections of The Turkana society) with very limited success. They are not unlike the Maasai in general appearances but have been much less exposed to tourism and are more primitive in their lifestyle.

I learned a few words of greeting in the Turkana language but conversed in Swahili with those that knew it. I found them to be friendly and inquisitive people. Livestock is an important aspect of Turkana culture. Goats, camels, donkeys and zebu are the primary herd stock utilized by the Turkana people. In this society, livestock functions not only as a milk and meat producer, but as form of currency used for bride-price negotiations and dowries. Often, a young man will be given a single goat with which to start a herd, and he will accumulate more via animal husbandry. In turn, once he has accumulated sufficient livestock, these animals will be used to negotiate for wives. It is not uncommon for Turkana men to lead polygynous lifestyles, since livestock wealth will determine the number of wives each can negotiate for and support.

Turkana rely on their animals for milk, meat and blood. Wild fruits are gathered by women from the bushes and cooked for 12 hours. Slaughtered goats are roasted on a fire and only their entrails and skin removed. Roasting meat is a favourite way of consuming meat. The Turkana often trade with the Pokots for maize and beans, Marakwet for tobacco and Maasai for maize and vegetables. The Turkana buy tea from the towns and make milk tea. In the morning people eat maize porridge with milk, while for lunch and dinner they eat plain maize porridge with a stew. Zebus are only eaten during festivals while goat is consumed more frequently. Honey is the only sweet thing used by the Turkana.

A borehole and pump were sunk below the water table in a wide seasonal korongo, or lugga, as they are known in Kenya to supply water to the rig. The seasonally dry lugga was some 6km from the rig site, nearby a very large manyatta known as Nakukulas.

The dams, man-made by Turkana to access the water table, dry up in the dry season, so, as part of a development deal which included the building of a school and a clinic at Nakukulas, Tullow Oil also agreed to put in a storage tank. The water usage was controlled by two AP or KPR guards who lived in a tent next to the pump generators. They were also responsible for refuelling the generators and to prevent theft and damage.

The water was turned on for periods at certain times in the day to fill the water storage tanks. The water from the tanks could, again, at pre-determined times, be drawn from a standpipe into containers to be carried away for domestic use in the manyatta.

One problem we had there occurred several times early on in the operation, and this was the stealing of water from the rig supply pipeline. The water for rig use was pumped the 6kms through 3-inch heavy-duty poly-pipe to the rig, where it was either stored in great water pits for use in the drilling operation as slurry, or pushed through a filtration system for use by the camp for washing, laundry and cooking, etc. Before the pipes could be buried (the road grader had broken down and needed an engine replacement), several times they were cut with a panga, about 3- or 4kms from the borehole.

Now this was at first assumed to be to collect water by someone who could not be bothered to walk all the way to Nakukulas. There were many small, individual manyattas scattered throughout Turkana, and none were near a water source.

Before Tullow Oil had come onto the scene, many folks would have to walk miles and miles to get water. However, it was later thought to be acts of sabotage by youths who had not been able to benefit from the employment opportunities the rig provided.

I had two meetings (known as Barazas) with the Nakukulas chief and elders to discuss the best way forward, held under the shade of a huge spreading fig tree.

The police became involved as this cutting went on over several months. One time, we found water spurting up from a cut, and two sets of footprints either side of the pipe, as if someone had stood there to fill water containers. The footprints were of a rubber sandal made from a car tyre, as used by many Africans. I showed two KPRs from the rig the footprints. These guys were so good, they were able to follow these footprints for about two kilometres across the desert, through a maze of hundreds of other car-tyre footprints and those of countless goats, donkeys, and camels, all the way to a large manyatta and right up to the door of a hut, wherein was the owner of the sandals and two yellow plastic containers full of water.

In public he was lashed with a kiboko by one of the community elders.

I received a letter of commendation from the District Commissioner of Turkana East for the liaison work I carried out here as an individual with the Turkana community.

Sabotage was also proven in one case; the two youths were ridiculed in front of the entire manyatta of Nakukulas and were given lashes. In the meantime, the grader had been repaired and before long the pipes were covered over with three feet of earth.

There was a small manyatta called Kode-kode (pr. coday-coday) situated about 1km from the rig, in the opposite direction from Nakukulas. Individuals, and often children, had to walk around 7km each way every day just to fetch water. I visited this manyatta once when out with my patrol, which caused quite a stir when they first saw us approaching, all tooled-up, but eventually settled down to a photo shoot. I later printed A4 paper copies of this photo to deliver to the excited ladies. I also took a great photo of their kids and some individual ladies and girls.

When a new rig started operations near to Lake Turkana, I had the opportunity to visit the area. Lake Turkana National Parks are now listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Sibiloi National Park lies on the lake’s eastern shore, while Central Island National Park and South Island National Park lie in the lake. Both are known for their abundance of Nile crocodiles. The late Dr Richard Leakey and his team of paleoanthropologists discovered an abundance of hominid fossils in the area surrounding Lake Turkana.^[iv]

There I was again, stepping in the unfillable footsteps of another great hero of my teenage years. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Turkana, and although I have always remarked that the environments in which I feel most comfortable are rainforests and forested mountains, I now unreservedly add deserts to that list.

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[i] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Sudanese_Civil_War

[ii] Camel Spiders are members of the arachnid order Solifugae, are a diverse and fascinating, yet poorly understood, order of mostly nocturnal, arthropod predators, notable for their massively powerful two-segmented chelicerae (jaws), voracious appetite, and tremendous speed.

Many solifuges are able to maintain a rapid speed when hunting for longer than most other arachnids. As they run, they hold their front appendages, called pedipalps, aloft giving them the appearance of eight-legged zombies. These pedipalps are covered in sensory setae – the solifuges use their pedipalps to sense what is going on around them. When they encounter an insect or other arthropod, they will use eversible organs at the tips of their pedipalps, called suctorial organs, to hold onto the insect and bring it close, then tear into the prey with their powerful chelicerae.

[iii] The African Saw-scaled Viper is a small yet formidable snake that thrives in the arid and semi-arid regions of Africa, particularly in the savannas and grasslands. What sets this species apart is its ability to produce a characteristic sound by rubbing its scales together—a behaviour often used for communication and warning. Like many vipers, the African Saw-scaled Viper is venomous. Its venom is primarily hemotoxic, causing tissue damage and potentially coagulopathy in its prey. While it poses a risk to humans, bites are relatively rare due to its quiet and reclusive nature. When threatened, the viper prefers to rely on its remarkable camouflage or its loud warning rather than engaging in confrontations.

[iv] Turkana Boy, discovered by Kamoya Kimeu, a member of the Leakeys’ team, in 1984, was the nearly complete skeleton of a Homo ergaster (though some, including Leakey, call it erectus) who died 1.6 million years ago at about age 9–12. Leakey and Roger Lewin describe the experience of this find and their interpretation of it, in their book Origins Reconsidered (1992). Shortly after the discovery of Turkana Boy, Leakey and his team made the discovery of a skull (KNM WT 17000, known as “Black Skull”) of a new species, Australopithecus aethiopicus (or Paranthropus aethiopicus).