Half an hour from Nasalot National Reserve along the rough murram road to Turkana where gigantic trucks full of supplies for the northern desert lands painfully inch their way on whichever side of the road they can drive on, is the right turn into South Turkana National Reserve.Enroute, we cross Weiwei River that is in full flow and into Kainuk, a tiny outpost with a motley bunch of dukas and a mosque lining the road.

Tall, lean Turkana men walk around with their trademark wooden stools that double up as headrests. There are few Somalis and Sudanese to be seen but their presence is there with Juba Hotel and Juba Investments boldly painted on two single-story buildings.

Young men while away time in a dimly lit snooker room. A few signs belonging to aid agencies smartly stand by the side of the road while a road sign that’s seen better days reads “Eliye Springs 226 kms” on Turkana’s northwest shores. In the battered buses full of passengers and luggage, it can take eight hours to do the seemingly short stretch.

Because of the rains, this otherwise searing plain is cool. The roads and the officer’s mess are in better shape than the outside world. A few kilometres more and we are in South Turkana National reserve. We stop at the main gate in the reserve at a place called Lobokat. “It’s a Turkana word for dug wells,” explains Josephat Wambua, warden of both reserves.

“The Turkana want to have more land for conservancies,” he continues. “The county council is very serious and sets aside money every year to maintain the road.” No wonder they are in better shape than Nasalot and the main road from Moyale on the Kenya-Ethiopia border.

“The Turkana county council has identified areas in the northwest like Lokitaung and Loikibi bordering Sudan. We are assessing those sites because they are so remote – will anyone go there?” It’s always the difficult question in conservation – how to stretch the shilling to lay the infrastructure in the remotest of areas and get people to travel and appreciate the diversity of life and landscapes in them.

“Did you see the three leopards last night?” the young warden suddenly breaks from his dialogue to ask the Kengen chief engineer in charge of the Turkwel Gorge Dam in Nasalot national reserve. No, but Isaac Tarus has seen the lone leopard on other occasions walking along the quiet roads in Nasalot.

We stray off the main murram road in search of the elephant herd. On the soft quartz sand, a trail of footsteps disappears into the scrub. They belong to the leopard – how I wish this secretive cat would just make an appearance. But the dik diks are everywhere – tiny bambis running, jumping, leaping – romantic duos that represent undying love.

“There are no hyenas in Nasalot but they cross over to kill the goats and then back into South Turkana,” our warden volunteers more information. “You see, the County Council of West Pokot allows the herders to graze their livestock in the reserve while here, the Turkana County Council is stricter.”

We come across the biggest herd of Grant’s gazelles that I have ever seen – in the horizon, the herd looks like a beige skyline. Then we see the largest antelope in the world – the eland. Mounds of elephant dung follow the road but then vanish.

Rain clouds begin to darken the sky. We are facing Lomut, the Pokot village deep in the bundus lined by the stunning rock faces of the Sekerr range with the liver-shaped Mount Koghogh and the eagle head of Mt. Mtelo. Nasalot’s pointed peak peeps in the reserve.

When I ask Wambua about poaching in this remote land, I’m surprised by his reply. “You know our biggest challenge are the invasive plants.

“The mathenge (Prosopis julliflora) is spreading so rapidly that I fear in another 100 years, we will be a green desert if action is not taken immediately. You see how green the riverbanks look – it’s because they are lined with this invasive plant that no animal browses on. Once the plant is there, nothing else grows because it changes the soils.

“An experiment I did to cost how much it is to remove one Prosopis plant shows Sh840. It has to be mechanically removed to the last bit of root otherwise it quickly grows back. In Ol Donyo Sabuk, which is only 26.7 square kilometres, it will cost Sh18 million to remove the other invasive, the Lantaena camarra.

“If these invasive plants are not removed, the herbivores will reduce in number and if they go then the carnivores will suffer. The government has to seriously look at this problem.”On the drive back, we watch a snake silently slither into the thickets and overhead, a mighty eagle soars.

Stay in South Turkana:

You can camp at the main gate or next door in nasalotnr@kws.go.ke – email Wambua. Alternatively you can book one of the Kengen guesthouses that are self-contained and cook for yourself or eat at the restaurant. Email: Isaac Tarus the chief engineer at itarus@kengen.co.ke.