A bird’s-eye view of what is left of the Maasai Mau, one of Kenya’s most important water towers, is as chilling as it is shocking.
The forest now looks like hundreds of gigantic baldheads, standing one after another, only comforted with thin patches of hair lining around them to cover the shame of their destruction.
The lush-green canopy that made the Mau Forest Complex, the largest closed canopy forest ecosystem in Kenya, is fading, interrupted by open fields of drying timber, houses in the middle of trees, greying tea plantations and bare land, fighting to heal itself from fresh destruction.
More than 9,000 hectares, or about 22,000 acres, are gone. They are now homesteads, farms or private grazing fields.
Like expansionists who invade territories and set up colonies in hostile and inhabitable landscapes, you can see how its occupiers encroached on it.
Exactly how many families live here today? No one knows. Depending on who you ask, they can be less than 10,000 or as many as 60,000.
ENCROACHERS
One by one, the structures came up; the next occupier would take up the next available parcel of land, extending deeper into the forest.
They would then pave the way for whoever came next, to dig deeper and help them cut down more trees. There is always comfort in numbers.
At first, they put up temporary structures. Hundreds of mud-walled houses and those made from timber can be spotted littering the forest.
Most of the white beacons that should separate humans from the water towers still stand. These barriers did not stop the encroachers.
They marched hundreds of acres past them, deep into the forest. A good number have been broken down by its tormentors to erase the boundary, while others have been covered by vegetation grown around them.
LAXITY
Seeing little resistance and pushback from the government, encroachers got comfortable and structures made from iron sheets started coming up.
As the authorities continued to look away, some became more courageous and started building more permanent structures.
Hurriedly, some put up structures hanging precariously on the sides of the hills, which can easily be washed away by heavy rainfall.
In less than five years, it is impossible to tell there was once a canopy of trees covering the bare land that now stretches over the drying valleys and tributaries that feed into at least 12 rivers, some that support several ecosystems in Kenya and Tanzania.
Where there were no roads, they created them. Where there were too many trees, embers of charcoal burning billowed day and night to create land for farming.
Most patches are the size of two or three football stadiums combined, separated by live fences.
They would be emboldened by the government inaction to put up more than a dozen schools, most using permanent structures.
PROTESTS
Legitimised and with the support of local politicians, some of the early occupiers started selling part of their parcels to innocent buyers from other parts of the country.
Trading centres and small towns came up inside the forest to complete the settlement process.
Today, it is impossible to see how these people can now be ordered to exit the forest, which some say has been their home for more than two decades.
On the ground, the picture of the forest in the eyes of residents is quite the opposite.
Some that agreed to speak only see betrayal from the State. They read mischief and see a government that does not care about the survival of the common person.
Their pain as they pulled down structures and started ferrying out their belongings is palpable.
They say they have been turned homeless overnight and betrayed by a government that is disinheriting them despite giving them valid land ownership documents several years ago.
Their pain is made worse by political propaganda, which continues to grow louder by the day.
PROPAGANDA
Politicians who know better have chosen to stay clear of the eviction debate.
Those who only see them as votes are saying only the things they want to hear.
Tension continued to rise Thursday, as some of the residents continued to pull down their structures voluntarily, starting with the roofs downwards.
Others have vowed to stay put and fight on, having been given what looked like genuine titles from the same government that has now turned its back on them.
Officers from the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS), Kenya Forest Service (KFS) and police are meanwhile assembling in readiness for the battle that lies ahead.
Residents are scared of these forces. The security officers are equally scared of residents.
Angry residents who wanted answers on their fate Thursday surrounded one of the police camps near the forest.
Fearing retaliation and attacks, the police camps were seeking reinforcement, adding to the aggravation of the residents.
TITLE DEEDS
Three of the families we spoke to on the road as they ferried their belongings out of the operation area said they did not have anywhere else to go and will camp outside the boundary to await what is next.
“We have nowhere to go. We are just removing our things out of the area (operation zone),” Christopher Kendiye said.
“Where do you want us to go? We are just going to be on the road, at the end of the boundary. Where they have said it’s the demarcation,” he responded when asked where he was headed.
Mr Kendiye, who said he has lived 20 years on his land in Mau Forest, accused the government of insincerity on the genuineness of their titles.
“We have titles and all the documents they are asking for, but they are now saying they are fake. Do they want us to produce those made from gold before they accept them?” he asks.
HUMANE EVICTION
But KWS and KFS officials maintain that titles will he handled on a case-by-case basis and have called on any individuals with genuine titles to present them for the necessary action to be taken.
“We have encouraged them to voluntarily move out. We should not politicise an environmental issue,” said Mr Dickson Ritan, a senior KWS warden and a commander of the Joint Enforcement Unit.
“We will be as humane as possible in the eviction exercise. The second phase targets about 9,000 hectares,” said Mr Mwai Muraguri, a conservator at KFS.
As the two sides prepare for the clash in the next 60 days, several farmers continue to draw water from the rivers flowing from the forest to grow all manner of crops, from tomatoes and wheat to sorghum and avocado, downstream.
Further down along the Mara River, tourists are assembling, waiting to witness the epic wildebeest migration, which too now stands threatened.