Here we go again. President William Ruto has dusted off the old “reopening the border” script, promising that by April, the gates between Kenya and Somalia will swing wide open. He says he’ll personally officiate the ceremony in Mandera, as if a ribbon-cutting ceremony can magically erase thirteen years of Al-Shabaab insurgencies and a security situation that is still, frankly, a shambles. We’ve heard this song before - back in 2022, Uhuru and Hassan Sheikh Mohamud tried to play the same tune, but the reality on the ground refused to dance. Now, we’re being told “trust us” one more time.

The President claims we will “double the number of police officers” to ensure safety. In Nairobi, we can barely get a cop to show up for a mugging without asking for “fuel money,” yet we’re supposed to believe thousands of boots will suddenly secure hundreds of kilometers of scrubland and porous sand? Ruto says we should “leave the insurgents to us,” but for the people living in the North East, those aren’t just words - they’re potential death warrants. It’s easy to be brave from the back of a customized SUV in a stadium; it’s another thing entirely to be a local chief expected to provide “timely intelligence” against a group that doesn’t take kindly to informants.

Let’s be real about why this is happening now. This isn’t about “brotherly love” or “East African unity.” It’s about the miraa lobby. The Nyambene Miraa Trade Association petitioned the Ministry of Interior, and suddenly, national security concerns that have kept that border shut since 2011 are being “ratified” away. We are prioritizing the export of stimulants over the lives of the officers who will inevitably be caught in the crossfire when the “criminals and insurgent groups” Ruto mentioned decide to test those reopened designated points in Mandera, Liboi, and Kiunga.

This entire move reeks of the same calculated optics we highlighted in The Strategic Playbook Behind President William Ruto’s 2027 Re-election Campaign. Reopening the border allows the administration to claim a “diplomatic win” and secure a volatile voting bloc in the Meru region by opening up the Somali market for their khat. It’s a classic move: solve a commercial problem with a security risk, then act surprised when the blowback hits the headlines in six months.

The government is asking for “close coordination” with the UK and the US, which is code for “we need more foreign aid to fix the mess we’re about to make.” If the border was closed in 2011 because the situation was unmanageable, what has changed in 2024? Somalia is still fighting the same war, and Al-Shabaab hasn’t suddenly traded their RPGs for trade licenses. This isn’t a reopening; it’s a door being left ajar in a neighborhood that is still very much on fire.

In Nairobi, we’ll see the news clips of the President smiling in Mandera, and then we’ll go back to our lives, hoping the “intelligence-led approach” actually involves some intelligence for once. But for those on the frontline, this April “gift” might just be a Trojan horse wrapped in a miraa sack. Keep your eyes open, because the cost of this “free trade” might be a lot higher than the price of a bundle of khat.