The lines of Europe’s carve up of Africa were finally taking shape. On March 11, 1913, Britain and Germany agreed who got which bits of a swampy corner of the continent that few in either of the cold and distant countries had heard of.

Two states that did not exist at that time put the border agreement into effect again on Thursday with Nigeria formally handing over the Bakassi peninsula to Cameroon.

That followed a ruling by the World Court in 2002 for which both countries supplied copies of yellowing colonial-era documents to justify claims to territory that had brought them to the brink of war.

Neither might have had as much interest had it not been for the expectation that there is oil there, but it again highlighted Africa’s commitment to colonial borders drawn without consideration for those actually living there.

Many people in Bakassi have made clear they would rather be in Nigeria than Cameroon. There have been recent attacks by groups very similar to those waging a different struggle further west in the Nigeria delta.

Nigeria said that by following the ruling it was showing its respect for international law, a demonstration of the change in the country since the end of military rule. On the other side of the continent, an international pronouncement on the Ethiopia-Eritrea border remains disputed.

Fights over historic borders go far beyond Africa of course, as the recent bloodshed in the Caucasus has made only too clear.

Does Africa have any choice but to stick with its colonial borders? There are several hundred ethnic groups in Nigeria and Cameroon alone. Would questioning borders mean the collapse of much of the continent in bitter disputes over who got what? Would it ease the ethnic tensions that poison many countries?

Our route is along the Great North Road, the famed Cape Town-to-Cairo highway on what is said to be the only untarmacked stretch on the whole continent - roughly 550 kilometres from where the highway ends at Isiolo town north to Moyale on the Ethiopian border.  It has all the wildlife and stunning scenery Kenya is world-famous for, but few tourists ever see it.

This is part of the old Northern Frontier District, the arid top half of Kenya which was closed to visitors by the British colonial government because of its inaccessibility, harsh conditions and endless banditry.  Little has changed since independence in 1963.

 To call the wide track of dirt, ruts and rocks a road is an insult to other roads. It demands a four-wheel drive vehicle, and punishes any that comes with an endless succession of shuddering bumps, heat and fine dust that penetrates every corner. It has taken us two days to reach Marsabit, a mere 600 km from Nairobi. But out here, trips are measured by time, not by distance.

We - Reuters TV producer Patrick Muiruri, Reuters photographer Antony Njuguna, navigator Michael Githaiga and mechanics Frederick “British” Gappy,  Lawrence “Jughead” Waithaka and myself - are rolling in convoy in case one vehicle develops a problem. There is another reason to move together - safety in numbers. Cattle-rustling is still a rite of passage for young warriors among the nomadic peoples that roam the dry plains with herds of cattle, goats, camels and sheep. It has intensified in recent decades thanks to an influx of automatic weapons from conflicts in neighbouring Somalia and Sudan.

Violence here is regular and can easily spill over into outright warfare. Banditry has also blossomed in these badlands.

The government presence here is thinly stretched and usually without the equipment needed to police the problem, leaving police and paramilitary soldiers in a reactive position. Electricty, water and functioning telephones are rare sights, and in most places were never brought by the state-owned utilities. Schools are there, but it is difficult for teachers to get students from wandering clans. Most schoolchildren in other parts of Kenya are speaking English and Swahili by the age of 5; here, it is common to find boys of 15 who cannot speak Swahili - the lingua franca of a nation with more than 42 different ethnic groups.

Local people speak of Kenya Mbili - Two Kenyas - the developed southern half, and theirs, the forgotten and neglected one.

“When someone leaves for Nairobi, people say he has gone to Kenya.
There is a sense of being second class, neglected,” said Hussein Sasura, a native of the Marsabit area, told us. Sasura is also the assistant minister in the new Ministry for Northern and Arid Lands, which aims to bring development to this vast region.
He’s optimistic that things are finally changing after 45 years of independence, from which the north has rarely tasted any fruits.

Two big developments are already inching their way north. Chinese engineers are beginning to lay 136 km of asphalt from Isiolo to near the Merille River, the first phase of a plan to finish the road to Moyale. Already, tourist lodges and wildlife managers are planning for an upsurge in tourists to an area that usually is reached by light aircraft or those willing to make the punishing trip to see some of Kenya’s still-unspoiled beauty.

Moving faster is a team of engineers laying a fibre optic cable alongside the road, working under a Ministry of Information and Communication contract to bring internet and telephone service to all corners of the country. Digging with a 10-metre long cable-laying machine, they say they expect to hit the border in about two months.

And oil men from China are already prospecting in Merti, and have plans to look elsewhere in a region rumoured for decades to have oil. All this means more people will be in the district, but will it bring all the attendant commerce and development? Can the highway bring more tourists and help tame the insecurity? Will the road and communications infrastructure finally unite the Two Kenyas?

The news from Somalia seems to be relentlessly negative, writes Reuters Somalia correspondent Guled Mohamed. So it has been for the best part of 17 years since warlords overran the country in 1991 to usher in the modern period of chaos in this part of the Horn of Africa.

African Union peacekeepers have been unable to stem the violence; peace initiatives come and go with little impact; and the 14th attempt to restore central government is struggling as the Ethiopian-backed Transitional Federal Government finds itself up against a resilient insurgent movement including former members of the Islamic Courts Union that briefly held Mogadishu for six months in 2006.

However, tales of hope, entrepreneurship and solidarity abound among Somalia’s 9 million people.

How do you think Somalis can move forward? Can the diaspora wield its economic power to help? Has Ethiopia’s military intervention helped or hindered? Do the Islamic Courts represent the people as their fighters say? How can the world help, or should it just stay out and let Somalis sort things out themselves?

Have your say …

Not usually keen on giving interviews to Western media, President Isaias Afwerki sat down this week for a nearly two-hour chat with Reuters’ Asmara correspondent Jack Kimball and East Africa bureau chief Andrew Cawthorne. In it, he criticised the United Nations, denied an incursion into Djibouti, outlined Eritrea’s economic policies and accused the United States of trying to destabilise his country.

Has Isaias Afwerki been good or bad for Eritrea and Africa. What do you think?