I spoke with my sister Leah this morning for the umpteenth time since the post election violence rocked my country. This has become a daily ritual now, a round of phone calls to my entire family and friends first thing in the morning, mid-day and at nightfall. She’s survived yet another night of terror and fear, and so has my little brother Dan and the rest of my family. They live in or near Eldoret, one of the larger towns in western Kenya, the epicenter of the worst of the clashes. The situation may be taking a turn for the better, but according to her, it is way too early to tell. She came close to losing her home and everything in it when her neighbour’s house adjacent to hers was razed to the ground after being looted bare. For days, she’s been holed up in her house, not daring to venture outdoors as looting and fires raged all around.

My sister’s fate and that of my family pales in comparison to that of many who’ve lost their lives, family members and all they ever owned. The official tally of the dead stands at 300, but other estimates goes as high as 500. Up to half a million are displaced countrywide, camping at church grounds, police stations, stadiums and other safety havens.

According to Leah, bands of well armed warriors from the pastoralist Pokot and Marakwet tribes of the larger Kalenjin ethnic group that occupies the expansive Rift Valley of Kenya had descended on Eldoret town, the biggest city in Kalenjin land. Strutting around with their AK47s, bows and arrows, they took turns controlling the streets at night as the government police and paramilitary units took charge during the day. In their wake, up to 200 people mostly from President Kibaki’s Kikuyu ethnic group have been killed and more than 30 thousand families evicted in the region alone.

Ten kilometers away in the Burnt Forest area, a village where my mother and the rest of the family lives, my brother Dan reports seeing daylong convoys of military trucks, buses, trucks, tractors and private vehicles full of fleeing families, some on foot, carrying whatever little they can. Most of them are from the Kikuyu tribes, with military escort leaving western Kenya for the safety of Nakuru town closer to central Kenya, the stronghold of the Kikuyu tribe. In between, across the fertile agricultural countryside, billows of smoke rise to the dry summer sky, and where sounds of children dancing with glee as they herd goats and sheep across the plains, in place of birds chirping in the bushes and farmers bringing in the seasons’ harvest, cries of desolation and death rend the air. It is here that women and children were burnt alive in a church and those who tried to escape were hacked to death.

It’s not the first time that ethnic animosity has turned ugly in these parts of Kenya. I was a first year university student in 1992, and home on holiday for the first multiparty elections when the first wave of ethnic violence erupted. Then as now, I witnessed the horror of my close friends and neighbours homes go up in smoke, many of them packing and leaving, never to be seen again. Those who could afford came back a year later, only to sell their pieces of land and vanish for good. In that year, more than a thousand people perished and Kenya has never really been the same again. Ethnic tensions continued to simmer below the surface, waiting for the slightest provocation, mostly by opportunist politicians who appeal to ethnic chauvinism and exploiting their peoples’ fears, manipulating identity consciousness for political advantage.

The 1997 election was no different and ethnic cleansing returned. It’s only during the 2002 elections that we witnessed relief from the cyclical waves of ethnic clashes disguised as electoral violence. Almost the entire nation was then united under the rainbow coalition led by Mwai Kibaki and Raila Odinga. Then, they were the closest of political friends and together, they delivered this country from the iron grip of former dictator Daniel Arap Moi. Now, only 5 years later, they are the bitterest of enemies, a rivalry that’s now plunged the country into the darkest precipice from which it might never return in a very long time.

For now, the capital Nairobi breathes an uneasy calm. Archbishop Desmond Tutu departed last night. This morning, U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for Africa, Jendayi Fraser jetted in. All forms of formulas are being advanced to break the stalemate. Government spokesman Dr. Alfred Mutua is adamant that “you cannot share power with losers”, the president seems to be softening his stance in favour of a government of national unity. The opposition Orange Democratic Movement insists they won the election and president Kibaki is in office illegitimately. Their only compromise is that of a three month transitional government after which a presidential poll should be held. The government will not hear of it. ODM will only accept international mediation while the government maintains this is an internal affair that should be handled by Kenyans alone. Kibaki has ignored the advise of his own chief legal officer, the Attorney General Amos Wako. The standoff remains.

In the meantime, normal life has all but ceased to be in the entire country and beyond. Most countries in the larger East Africa including Southern Sudan, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi and Eastern Congo are beginning to feel the squeeze. Basic commodities are scarce. Many parts of the country are experiencing food shortages. Supermarket shelves are bare, gas stations tanks are dry, prices have sky racketed and those who traveled to visit family across the country, or to vote in their rural homes are stranded and cannot make it back to the city or other places of work. Schools are meant to open on Monday the 7th for new school year, but this cannot be. My brother Dan, a third year college student is stranded and cannot or doesn’t know if he should risk the journey from the village to Eldoret for school. He is not sure if the small room he’s renting in town is still intact. Kenya’s fixed telephone line network amounts to only 20 percent of the country’s telecommunication coverage. The rest is based on pre-paid mobile telephony. In only four days, the whole country has a shortage of mobile phone recharge vouchers, communication is thus paralysed!

My sister remains holed up in her house, running out of food and another week gone without stepping out to go to work. A humanitarian crisis is slowly unfolding across the country and the government is yet to respond to the needs of the many internally displaced. The Kenyan Red Cross Society and many corporate entities, print and electronic media and other concerned groups are stepping up efforts to collect donations to assist the displaced. Last night, belatedly, the government set up a disaster taskforce to assess the extent of the damage and the humanitarian needs, but as expected, it might be slow, bureaucratic, inefficient and riddled with corruption.

For now, all agree that the fate of the nation is in the hands of the two protagonists, Presoident Kibaki and ODM’s Raila Odinga. The sooner they seize the opportunity for dialogue and reconciliation, the sooner the country may begin the long and complicated process of healing. But if the opposition stands its ground and goes ahead with its calls for more protest rallies, then next week will see the country plunged into yet another fresh round of violence and mayhem.