LAPSSET corridor to unlock trade and security gains in Northeastern Kenya

Several security officers have lost their lives in al Shabaab attacks including IED incidents along the corridor.
The road is going to open up this region for commerce and movement
Regional commissioner John Otieno describes how improved infrastructure will transform economic activity in Northeastern Kenya.
Mark

Why does a road matter so much for security in a place like Northeastern?

Mimi

Because right now, when an attack happens, the response is slow. Bad roads mean security forces take hours to reach a site. A paved road cuts that time dramatically. It also makes it harder for militants to hide or operate—they lose the advantage of isolation.

Mark

But couldn't a better road also make it easier for attackers to move around?

Mimi

Theoretically, yes. But the logic here is that improved visibility and faster response times outweigh that risk. Plus, a functioning economy and movement of goods creates more eyes on the ground, more witnesses, more normal activity that makes clandestine operations riskier.

Mark

The communities initially opposed this. What changed their minds?

Mimi

They were worried about losing grazing land—their livelihood. But once they saw the actual benefits—being able to reach markets faster, reduced travel time to towns—the calculus shifted. It wasn't abstract anymore. It was: my child can get to school quicker, I can sell my goods more easily.

Mark

Is the passport office part of the same vision?

Mimi

Yes, but it's about a different kind of access. For years, getting a passport meant leaving your region, spending money, taking time away from work. Now it's local. It's saying: you matter enough that we'll bring government services to you, not make you chase them to the capital.

Mark

What happens if the road gets built but security doesn't improve?

Mimi

Then the economic argument still holds—trade increases, connectivity improves. But the security promise becomes harder to defend. The region would have invested heavily in infrastructure betting on a security outcome that didn't materialize.

  • Al Shabaab IED attacks have claimed the lives of security officers along the corridor, making the region one of Kenya's most persistently dangerous stretches of road.
  • Poor infrastructure has compounded the threat, slowing emergency response times and allowing militants to operate in the gaps that bad roads create.
  • Eighty-five kilometers of the Nairobi-Garissa-Isiolo road have already been upgraded from murram to tarmac, with full completion to Isiolo expected within fifteen months.
  • Early community resistance — rooted in fears over lost grazing land — has been largely converted to support through sustained public sensitization campaigns.
  • A new immigration office in Garissa, capable of processing 25,000 passport applications annually, is already serving thousands who once had to travel to Nairobi for basic documents.
  • The region is shifting from debating whether these projects should exist to pressing for how quickly they can be finished.

In the arid expanse of Northeastern Kenya, where distance has long been both a physical and political condition, the Lapsset corridor is being laid down as an act of deliberate inclusion. Regional Commissioner John Otieno sees in upgraded roads and decentralized services not merely development, but a renegotiation of the relationship between the state and its most remote citizens. The same infrastructure that promises to draw trade and investment inward is also expected to deny al Shabaab the cover that isolation has long provided. It is a wager that connectivity itself can be a form of governance.

Standing in Garissa after touring the infrastructure reshaping his region, Northeastern Kenya's Regional Commissioner John Otieno spoke of the Lamu Port-South Sudan-Ethiopia Transport Corridor — Lapsset — as something more than a construction project. For him, it is the mechanism through which a long-marginalized region might finally claim both economic relevance and security stability.

At the corridor's core is the Nairobi-Garissa-Isiolo road, 85 kilometers of which have already been upgraded from murram to tarmac. Completion to Isiolo is expected within fifteen months. The practical effects are already visible: travel times are shrinking, and towns like Fafi, Hulugho, and Masalani are more reachable than before. Otieno envisions this as a foundation for trade and investment — but it is the security argument he presses hardest. Northeastern has suffered years of al Shabaab attacks, with IEDs killing security officers along these very routes. Better roads, in his framing, mean faster response times and less cover for militants. The road is a security tool as much as an economic one.

Not everyone welcomed the project at first. Abdi Sugal, who chairs a youth group in Modika, recalls genuine resistance from residents who feared the corridor would swallow grazing land and upend pastoralist life. It took sustained public participation and sensitization efforts to shift that sentiment. The turning point came when people began to feel the benefits concretely — reduced travel times, improved access — rather than as promises. By the time of Otieno's tour, opposition had largely become support.

Otieno also pointed to a newly opened Garissa immigration office, inaugurated by President Ruto, which can process around 25,000 passport applications per year. More than 16,000 residents have already used it, receiving documents in as few as five days without traveling to Nairobi. For Otieno, it illustrates a principle: that historically remote communities deserve government services on their own ground.

What the tour revealed is a region in deliberate transition — roads being paved, offices opened, skepticism giving way to expectation. Whether the changes will be deep enough to transform Northeastern's economic trajectory or meaningfully reduce militant violence remains uncertain. But the question on the ground has already shifted: not whether these projects should happen, but how fast they can be finished.

John Otieno, the regional commissioner for Northeastern Kenya, stood in Garissa on a Tuesday afternoon having just toured the infrastructure projects reshaping his region. The most significant of these—the Lamu Port-South Sudan-Ethiopia Transport Corridor, known locally as Lapsset—represents something larger than asphalt and concrete. It is, in Otieno's view, the key that might unlock both the economic potential and the security stability that have eluded this corner of the country for years.

The corridor's centerpiece is the Nairobi-Garissa-Isiolo road. Eighty-five kilometers of it have already been upgraded from murram to tarmac, with completion expected to reach Isiolo within fifteen months. For a region where movement has long been constrained by poor infrastructure, this matters in immediate, practical ways. Travel times to remote areas have already begun to shrink. Connectivity between Garissa and outlying towns like Fafi, Hulugho, and Masalani has improved noticeably. Otieno sees this as the foundation for something broader: increased trade, investment flowing in, and people able to conduct business without the friction of bad roads.

But the security dimension is what Otieno emphasizes most. Northeastern has endured years of attacks by al Shabaab militants. Improvised explosive devices have been planted along routes, killing security officers and civilians alike. The losses have been real and recurring. Otieno argues that better roads will change this calculus fundamentally. Improved connectivity means security agencies can respond faster to threats. The visibility and accessibility that comes with upgraded infrastructure makes it harder for militants to operate with impunity. In his framing, the road is not merely economic infrastructure—it is a security tool.

The communities living along the corridor did not always see it this way. Abdi Sugal, who chairs the youth group in Modika, recalls the initial resistance. Residents feared the project would consume grazing land and disrupt the pastoralist way of life that has sustained them for generations. The opposition was real enough that it required sustained effort to shift. Public participation meetings and sensitization campaigns gradually changed minds. As Sugal describes it, the turning point came when people began to understand that the road would actually serve them—that connectivity and reduced travel time were not abstractions but tangible benefits to their daily lives. By the time Otieno arrived to tour the project, that resistance had largely transformed into support.

Otieno also highlighted a second initiative: the Garissa Directorate of Immigration Services office, formally opened by President William Ruto the previous year. The facility can process about 25,000 passport applications annually. More than 16,000 residents have already used it. The significance lies in decentralization. Previously, obtaining a passport meant traveling to Nairobi—a journey that was expensive, time-consuming, and inaccessible to many. Now applicants can receive passports in as little as five days without leaving their region. For Otieno, this exemplifies a broader principle: that historically marginalized regions deserve access to government services without the burden of traveling to the capital.

What emerges from Otieno's tour and remarks is a vision of Northeastern as a region in transition. The infrastructure is being built. The security apparatus is being strengthened. Government services are being brought closer to the people. The initial skepticism from communities has given way to recognition of tangible benefit. Whether these changes will be sufficient to transform the region's economic trajectory or to substantially reduce the threat of militant violence remains to be seen. But for now, the road is being paved, the offices are open, and the conversation has shifted from whether these projects should happen to how quickly they can be completed.

That road is going to open up this region for commerce and movement. People will be able to move freely and conduct their businesses and trade more efficiently.
— John Otieno, Northeastern regional commissioner
Initially, we were reluctant and did not want anything to do with the Lapsset project because we feared it would interfere with our grazing fields. But after sensitisation and public participation meetings, we started realising the project would actually benefit us.
— Abdi Sugal, chairman of youth in Modika
Quieres la nota completa? Lee el original en the-star.co.ke ↗
Contáctanos FAQ