How Procter & Gamble Exploits Kenya’s Endorois Community

When you think of Kenya’s Lake Bogoria, the image that likely comes to mind is one of vibrant pink flamingoes gracefully skimming its surface or perhaps the steaming hot springs that bubble from its depths. But beneath the allure of these familiar sights lies a hidden treasure that could eventually eclipse its more visible residents – microscopic organisms that hold the potential to revolutionize industries and transform economies. These microbes, though invisible to the naked eye and lacking the flamboyant beauty of flamingoes, possess an economic power that could dwarf the lake’s more famous residents.

Am on a mission to ensure that Africa’s natural resources primarily benefit Africans, especially local communities. Driven by this mission, I drove through the gates of the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS), one of the primary custodians of Kenya’s natural resources.

The KWS offices, with their red-tiled roofs and sturdy Victorian walls, are a stone’s throw from the entrance to Nairobi National Park. It’s a place that wears its history on its walls, a blend of colonial legacy and modern conservation efforts. I made my way through these corridors, on my way to meet Kavaka Mukonyi, the head of Bioprospecting at KWS.

“Let me come to the main reception to pick you up,” Kavaka’s voice echoed through the phone, warm and inviting.

He arrived moments later, embodying the same cheerfulness his voice had conveyed. We walked through the maze of hallways, exchanging stories like old friends, until we reached his office. A nameplate reading “Bioprospecting” adorned the door—a title that hinted at the work inside, yet the room itself was unassuming. No large microscopes, no chemical apparatus, just a simple office with a flat-screen monitor and scattered papers.

But it was in this modest setting that Kavaka’s words struck a chord, “The world is focused on larger biological resources, but the developed nations are paying attention to the things we don’t see—the microbes that underpin the entire biotech industry.”

Until that moment, I’d always associated biotechnology with genetically modified organisms (GMOs)—a notion that didn’t sit well with my preference for organic, unaltered foods. Yet, as Kavaka explained, the scope of biotech extends far beyond agriculture. The tiny organisms in Lake Bogoria, he explained, could yield financial gains on a global scale if harnessed correctly.

“When you look at the global market, bioprospecting generates over $900 billion annually,” Kavaka said, his tone growing somber as he added, “But these profits are reaped by multinationals in developed countries, while the owners of these resources receive nothing.”

The following day, I met with Levis Kavagi, the United Nations Environment Programme’s (UNEP) Africa Coordinator for the Ecosystems and Biodiversity Programme. We sat outside his office at the UN campus in Gigiri, sipping coffee as he broke down the concept of ecosystem services and how it can bolster community-based conservation.

“For a community to commit to conserving an ecosystem like Lake Bogoria, they must see how it benefits them,” Levis explained. “The benefits, both financial and otherwise, are what we call ecosystem services.”

Levis spoke with a passion that lit up his brown eyes, making the complex world of environmental conservation seem almost poetic. He emphasized the importance of fair and equitable sharing of the benefits derived from natural resources, a principle enshrined in the Nagoya Protocol—a global agreement aimed at ensuring that the profits from genetic resources are shared with those who preserve them.

By the time I left that meeting, I was convinced that the microorganisms in Kenya’s soda lakes could do more than just fatten the wallets of foreign corporations; they could uplift entire communities, protect biodiversity, and even propel Kenya towards sustainable industrialization. I believed that natural capital, if managed wisely, could be the antidote to the poverty, disease, and stress that plagued so many.

Two days later, I drove my Subaru Forrester, nicknamed the Growler, to the University of Nairobi, Chiromo Campus, to meet Professor Mulaa, a leading microorganisms expert. His office, crammed with books and papers, was a testament to decades of research. There, he spoke of how microorganisms could be transformed into valuable industrial products that could revolutionize industries.

“These microorganisms can be developed to help agriculture, protect crops, and even produce enzymes used in various industries,” he explained.

I saw the tangible results of his work: leather made from fish skin using enzymes he had developed. This innovative process was faster and more environmentally friendly than traditional leather making methods. And yet, the potential for such groundbreaking work was largely untapped.

The next day, I visited the Kenya Industrial Research and Development Institute (KIRDI), where Dr. Martha Induli, a Director at the Institute, explained how they were scaling up the production of industrial enzymes. Her passion for science was palpable, her words imbued with the weight of someone who knows that what she’s doing could change lives.

“Enzymes are incredibly versatile,” she explained. “They can remove hair, grease, and more. When you select them from microbes, you find what industrial activity they can perform, then you optimize that.”

Her words made me realize just how ubiquitous and powerful enzymes are. She explained that they can clean our clothes, make our medicines, and even give our jeans that beloved faded look. And that’s just a tip of the iceberg. But as powerful as they are, the profits they generate are often funneled into the coffers of multinational corporations, leaving the communities that own these resources empty-handed.

Take, for example, the enzymes from Lake Bogoria. They were used by Genencor International to develop a successful line of Tide bleach for Procter & Gamble, a US multinational. Consequently, these two Firms made millions and are still cashing in.

This turn of events proves that enzymes are powerful. So powerful that they run the world. You see that detergent that washes your clothes clean? Enzymes make that possible. When you drag yourself to the kitchen sink to wash dishes before you hit the pillows, you are able to wash those greasy dishes real clean, real fast, because the dishwashing soap is laced with enzymes. That faded jeans that you love wearing every Saturday also owes its fades to enzymes. When you have a crazy cold and dash to the pharmacist for some drugs, you should whisper a quick ‘asante sana!’ to enzymes because they are playing an increasingly important role in the manufacture of drugs.

As if that’s not enough, the pesticide that you sprayed on your crops to annihilate some stubborn pests couldn’t have made it into your knapsack sprayer if enzymes hadn’t enabled its manufacture. Do you now see how the fingerprints of enzymes are all over the place on all manner of products? They definitely run the world these enzymes. But it’s not just about running the world; it’s about how you run it. Enzymes mostly run it in a green and sustainable way. Unlike crazy chemicals, they are biodegradable, which means that they don’t mess the environment.

Whoever owns the enzymes smiles all the way to the bank. That’s why the biotechnology firm Genecor International together with Procter & Gamble made a fortune from Lake Baringo’s enzymes yet the local Endorois Community made nothing.

When William Procter and James Gamble established Procter & Gamble in 1837, the Endorois had already been living around Lake Bogoria as an organized community for more than one hundred years. The enzymes that would later make millions of dollars for Procter and Gamble were already inhabiting the microbes in the lake. But at the time, there was no Genencor International or other biotech firms to pore and poke the lake’s enzymes in search of commercially viable enzymes.

Almost 200 years later, as of 2024, Procter & Gamble was worth $397.7 Billion. For fiscal year 2023, Procter & Gamble’s revenue was $84 billion. To put that staggering revenue into perspective, Kenya Government’s 2023-2024 tax revenue was $18.6 billion four times less than Procter & Gamble’s revenue that year.

Isn’t it therefore only fair that a company whose annual revenue is more than Kenya’s annual tax revenue should pay some royalties for Lake Bogoria’s enzymes? After all, these enzymes contributed to its staggering revenue. Baringo’s Endorois community are entitled to a share of this revenue. This is clearly stipulated in the Convention of Biological Biodiversity (CBD) and the Nagoya Protocol that stemmed from this convention.

The CBD clearly states that, “To be ‘fair and equitable’, benefit-sharing should reflect the efforts of national authorities and of stakeholders such as communities, institutions and companies in making the genetic resource available (through conserving, allowing access to, providing information on, and collecting it) and using it (conducting research and development, etc.).”

The Nagoya Protocol further reinforces this when it states in Article 5 that, ‘benefits arising from the utilization of genetic resources that are held by indigenous and local communities, in accordance with domestic legislation regarding the established rights of these indigenous and local communities over these genetic resources, are shared in a fair and equitable way with the communities concerned, based on mutually agreed terms.’

Exactly! Let me translate the above paragraphs for you into simple English, “communities, institutions and companies should share the money that is made from the commercial utilization of genetic resources.”

The benefit sharing must be ‘fair and equitable’ amongst all parties. That’s the law. But am afraid am going to have to spoil the party here. Although the CBD was adopted in 1992 when google wasn’t even born, USA has not yet ratified it. Do you know why? In order to protect US companies like Procter & Gamble. The US Government made it clear that they would not ratify the CBD due to concerns that the Convention failed to sufficiently safeguard the intellectual property of U.S. corporations. They further argued that the Convention could place USA under the jurisdiction of an international body, particularly in matters related to natural resource management, and could lead to financial obligations.

All the UN States have ratified this vital agreement – Iran, Libya, Cape Verde, Somalia – all of them except the United States of America. This means that international law may not necessarily shield the Endorois Community from the powerful corporate arrows of companies like Procter & Gamble. That’s why Kenya and other African countries must come up with stringent laws that will compel US companies to share benefits fairly with local communities.

Fired up with this knowledge, I set off for Lake Bogoria, eager to interact with the Endorois Community, the traditional custodians of Lake Bogoria and all its natural resources, including the lakes valuable microbes. One hour later, I drove into the stillness of a deserted parking lot, the three-star hotel standing quietly off the Naivasha junction. I headed straight to a dim corner of the adjacent restaurant, waiting to meet Wilson Kipkazi, the Endorois Welfare Council Chairman, and Kenneth Ole Nasho, a former Kenya Wildlife Service Game Warden.

The Endorois had made history in 2003 when they took their case to the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights, demanding recognition of their ancestral right to Lake Bogoria. After seven years, they won, but the government’s inaction turned victory into frustration. I was eager to hear from Kipkazi about the ongoing struggle and how the Endorois could benefit from Lake Bogoria.

As I sat with my untouched black coffee, two men entered and joined me. Kipkazi didn’t waste time. “The companies that came for research never informed the community. We later learned that they made millions from resources extracted from Lake Bogoria. This made us furious. Thankfully, some, like Novozymes from Denmark, paid royalties that changed lives by educating 246 children in a year.”

Lake Bogoria wasn’t just a resource; it was sacred to the Endorois. “Lake Bogoria is like an umbilical cord for us,” Kipkazi said. “It’s a sacred site with deep spiritual significance and traditional functions that bond our community.”

Nasho added concrete thoughts about the future, “The Endorois told me that they need their own local scientists.” This vision for the future was clear—Endorois scientists, blending indigenous wisdom with modern science, unlocking the treasures of Lake Bogoria to sustain their community for generations.

After finishing with the two men, I drove to Nakuru, about 80 kilometers from Naivasha and stopped at Westside Mall to meet Hon. Kipchumba Keitany, Baringo County’s Executive for Industry, Commerce, Tourism, and Enterprise Development. (He has since been replaced after a new County Governor took over). Lake Bogoria is in Baringo County.

“There are people who have been taking care of these resources; there are people who were born here, and this is their resource. This is where they get their medicine, their therapeutic healing. They have been custodians of this beautiful lake for a long, long time.” Hon. Kipchumba told me.

For two hours, we had a concerted conversation about Lake Bogoria and the wider Rift Valley that it is a part of. He was so passionate about the Rift Valley – its people and natural resources – that during those two hours, we conceived an idea that led to the birth of the birth of an organization known as Great Rift Valley Centre for Research and Development (GRICERD).

When I finally drove off after concluding this fruitful conversation, I could hardly wait to arrive in Lake Bogoria roughly about a one-hour drive away.

When I arrived, the lake was eerily silent, its surface undisturbed by any sign of life. The water, a faint brown reminiscent of weak coffee, lapped gently at my feet, revealing my toes buried in the sand. An African spoonbill waded nearby, its long legs a stark contrast to the stillness around it. I smiled at it but it didn’t return my smile, seemingly engrossed in something deep in the waters.

After conversing for an hour with a few local elders who joined me at the lake, the future that these amazing people wanted became crystal clear to me.

The Endorois community was eager for a future where it wouldn’t take a scientist from Leicester University to mine microorganisms from their lake; a future where it wouldn’t take a mzungu (white people) biotech firm to dissect those microbes and discover highly profitable enzymes; a future where it wouldn’t take yet another mzungu company to use those enzymes to develop a highly profitable product worth billions.

Indeed, the Endorois community want a future where they will have their very own home-grown scientists whose contemporary scientific knowledge will fuse with the Endorois indigenous knowledge to create a priceless knowledge base that will lead to sustainable revenues that will change their lives for generations.  

That future can begin as soon as tomorrow. Even as those homegrown Endorois scientists come to fruition, there are already established Kenyan scientists like Professor Mulaa from Nairobi University and Dr. Martha Induli from the Kenya Industrial Research Development Institute (KIRDI). In the same vein, there are experts like Kavaka Mukonyi from the Kenya Wildlife Service. These people with immense experience and knowledge to turn microbes into million-dollar products.

Money is the only missing link. It will take millions of dollars to transform microbes into billion-dollar products.

As I waded slowly from the weak-coffee colored waters of Lake Bogoria, I finally understood why the African Spoonbill bird had been gazing deep into the waters of Lake Bogoria. Its eyes must have been feasting on the priceless treasures that lived in the Lake.

To donate to my organization, Environmental Africa, which is working with local communities to ensure that they benefit from their natural resources, use this paypal email: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.