- The purchase of the Turkana oil field by a new operator has revived talk of a boom for this semiarid county in northwestern Kenya.
- Little development has occurred since the oil field was discovered in 2010, but Gulf Energy promises to invest up to $6 billion — the company’s chair told Kenyan lawmakers the field would produce up to 50,000 barrels a day by 2032.
- But observers are worried by the new operator’s lack of experience producing oil, by revised terms in favor of the company, and by still-incomplete environmental and social impact assessments.
- Turkana communities, in many cases strengthened by newly formalized rights to their land, are resolved to play a defining role in the development.
LOKICHAR, Kenya — On a recent Sunday afternoon in Lokichar, a small town in Kenya’s northern Turkana region, the expansive grounds of the Black Gold Hotel are deserted, aside from a couple of housekeepers seeking shade in the leafy courtyard beside the conference center. Just beyond the hotel gates, a four-lane highway linking Lokichar to the nearby regional capital of Lodwar is similarly empty. A long-promised oil boom remains stubbornly on the horizon.
In 2010, the Anglo-Irish firm Tullow Oil PLC discovered oil deposits estimated at more than 500 million barrels in the arid landscapes surrounding Lokichar. Hailed as a major breakthrough by then-president Mwai Kibaki, this was meant to usher in a new era of prosperity for Turkana and its people, whose history of systemic neglect dates back to the colonial era. A wave of internal migration and a frantic construction boom followed in the remote pastoralist trading town. But after more than a decade of setbacks and spiraling debt, Tullow effectively halted its operations in 2020, leaving behind a trail of stalled infrastructure and lingering uncertainty.
A Nairobi-based petroleum trader, Gulf Energy Ltd., acquired Tullow’s entire Turkana stake in a $120 million transaction finalized in September 2025, with the Kenyan government retaining a 25% stake. The company has since pledged to invest approximately $6 billion in developing Turkana’s oil fields.
At a parliamentary committee hearing in early February, the company’s chairperson, Francis Njogu, said the firm aims to begin commercial production by Dec. 1 this year, signaling a decisive new stage for the hitherto ill-fated project. He told lawmakers production would reach an estimated 20,000 barrels per day in the project’s first phase, as the company works to expand infrastructure and export capacity, rising to 50,000 barrels by 2032.
“We are very ready,” Njogu said. “We are approaching this … with a view to creating as many jobs and business opportunities [as possible] for Kenyans, starting with our Turkana host community, and are committed to positioning Kenya as an oil-producing country.”
‘The wells are now community assets’
Away from the conference rooms and committee hearings, the livelihoods of most people in Turkana’s hinterland still revolve around livestock herding, which has become increasingly precarious as recurring droughts have decimated herds and driven conflict over land and water.
Many hoped oil would offer a different path. But the renewed push faces deep skepticism. Years of delays, broken promises, exclusion from decision-making and a lack of transparency have hardened attitudes and galvanized communities. This time, residents intend to have a seat at the table from the start and are demanding firm guarantees on land protection, environmental safeguards and revenue sharing before development resumes.
In 2020, Kapese, a remote settlement near some of Turkana’s primary oil wells, became the first community in the region to secure a collective title deed under Kenya’s 2016 Community Land Act, with the land since managed by an elected committee. Two other communities, Nakukulas and Lokichar itself, have since followed.
“When Tullow first came here, we didn’t know what was happening. They just showed up with their vehicles and machines and started drilling,” said Enock Paule, chair of Kapese’s Community Land Management Committee. “Those wells are now community assets.”
While the state controls the resource beneath the ground, under Kenya’s Petroleum Act, host communities are entitled to 5% of the national government’s share of oil revenues. Registration of land titles provides many Turkana communities with stronger leverage to challenge land acquisition and insist on clear, written agreements, said Geoffrey Eregae, deputy director for energy, petroleum and mineral resources in the Turkana county government.
“People actually know their rights now. They are informed. They can write memorandums. They can explain exactly what they need,” he told Mongabay.
Concerns remain
However, Muturi wa Kamau, national network coordinator at the Kenya Oil and Gas Working Group, is unconvinced that Gulf Energy’s arrival will improve the lot of Turkana communities. He has spent much of the past decade supporting communities, including Kapese, in gaining legal control over their land, but he noted the revised agreement with the Kenyan government allows Gulf Energy to claim up to 85% of annual crude output to cover its investment and operating costs, meaning the government’s revenue share will come from what remains. This is a sharp increase from the 65% in previous contracts with Tullow, and Kamau warned that this could widen the gap between production and tangible local benefits.
He also expressed his concerns about how Gulf Energy, a company that he said “does not really have expertise when it comes to upstream petroleum operations,” secured the Turkana contract in the first place. “It’s a process that should have undergone competitive bidding, so how they came into the picture is very questionable.”
The company, whose chairperson, Njogu, is described by analysts as politically close to President William Ruto, has previously been linked to fuel-supply contracts in Kenya’s power sector that drew scrutiny from auditors over procurement and pricing issues. This has reinforced calls from civil society groups and local leaders for greater transparency as Gulf Energy moves into Turkana.
At a series of public forums in February, residents and local MPs also noted that key environmental assessments have not yet been completed, deepening existing anxieties about the project’s impact on water, land and livelihoods.
But the biggest concern to emerge from these forums was over security, with local leaders warning that rising banditry and intercommunal violence across parts of Turkana threaten both community safety and the project’s viability. Several speakers referenced the 2018 protests that disrupted operations and warned of similar unrest without stronger government action.
One of the project’s most pressing challenges remains how to transport oil from landlocked Turkana to international markets. An earlier proposal for an 895-kilometer (556-mile) export pipeline to Lamu port has been shelved due to prohibitive costs. Instead, Gulf Energy will initially rely on road transport, with up to 200 trucks required to move the initial daily target of 20,000 barrels along often unsafe routes.
Given such persisting obstacles, some observers question whether the project will ever reach full commercial production. Kamau argued that rising costs, governance concerns and shifting global energy priorities could push meaningful returns ever further into the future. “I honestly just don’t feel that these communities are going to see a lot of money from this project,” he told Mongabay.
Expired promise
Ikal Angelei, director of Lodwar-based NGO Friends of Lake Turkana, is similarly skeptical of oil’s promise to bring real development to Turkana. But from the state’s perspective, she argued that further delay now carries its own risk. As much of the world transitions away from fossil fuels, Kenya is “looking at the possibility of stranded assets” if it doesn’t act soon, she said.
Njogu reiterated this sense of urgency in his recent parliamentary appearance. “The current opportunity exists against the backdrop of a rapidly evolving global energy landscape,” he told lawmakers, “where the window for financing new upstream oil projects is narrowing.”
Back on the ground in Lokichar, Veronica Lowoyan, who owns the Sandiego, another hotel on the main drag, sees little difference between Tullow’s past failures and Gulf Energy’s latest bid to unlock Turkana’s oil wealth. “They are the same,” she said. “It’s just the name that has changed.”
She is at least hopeful that her hotel’s occupancy will soon pick up. “It’s quiet for now,” she said, “but they are coming.” This time, she added, the people of Turkana are ready.
“Before, we were in the dark. Now, we are enlightened. We know what we want.”
Banner image: A Turkana elder stands in front of a boma in the settlement of Kapese. Image by Christopher Clark for Mongabay.
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