sustainability

Naivasha, Kenya – For communities living around Naivasha, water is not an abstract resource. It sustains families, livestock, farms and schools.

That reality has taken on new significance after plans for a major Microsoft-G42 data centre in Olkaria, near Lake Naivasha, stalled in May 2026 over concerns about available power capacity.

Microsoft and United Arab Emirates-based artificial intelligence company G42 announced the project in 2024 as part of a $1bn digital investment package for Kenya. The proposed facility was to run on geothermal energy and eventually scale to as much as 1 gigawatt of capacity.

The uncertainty has also prompted questions about what another major industrial user could mean for water in a region where residents already report shortages.

Microsoft and G42 said the proposed data centre campus would run entirely on renewable geothermal energy and incorporate water conservation technology. The companies did not disclose a project-specific water consumption figure in their 2024 announcement.

Kenya Electricity Generating Company (KenGen) communications director Frank David Ochieng told Al Jazeera that the data centre remains at the design stage and that he could not comment further until the project is ready to proceed.

For residents like Musa Olorkedienye, who spoke to Al Jazeera, water scarcity is already a daily concern. He says communities around Olkaria have seen changes in access to water, including the loss of reliable piped supplies that residents previously received from KenGen.

“Currently, we are relying on water vendors to get water, our animals are walking for kilometres, and we fear things could get worse as demand for water rises,” Olorkedienye says.

Pastoralist Isaac Leshishi, who also spoke to Al Jazeera, says increasingly harsh weather is adding to the pressure.

Why Olkaria?

The choice of Olkaria was closely tied to energy. The area is home to Kenya’s major geothermal operations, making it an attractive location for a power-intensive facility.

KenGen operates the Olkaria geothermal complex, while Microsoft and G42 planned to power the proposed data centre entirely with geothermal energy.

A lake under pressure

Naivasha is a freshwater lake in Kenya’s Rift Valley whose catchment supports agriculture, tourism, livestock and domestic water use. Its basin also hosts geothermal development and other economic activity.

Grace Kimani, a patrol leader with Lake Naivasha and Oloiden, told Al Jazeera that the reservoir is under growing pressure from population growth, agriculture, water abstraction, climate variability, pollution and ecosystem degradation.

“The planned Microsoft-G42 data centre in Olkaria could bring jobs and investment, but its water demand raises concerns about adding pressure to already competing needs, particularly during dry periods,” she said.

Kimani said there is limited public information about the project’s expected water demand, source and cooling technology. She said transparency and an assessment of its cumulative impact on water resources would be important.

She also called for water-efficient or water-free cooling, water recycling and the use of treated wastewater, as well as sustainable abstraction limits and community involvement in monitoring.

Silas Wanjala of the Lake Naivasha Riparian Association, who spoke to Al Jazeera, said the region is heavily dependent on groundwater and that declining water flows are adding to the pressure.

“These industries, especially EcoCloud, which deal with data, will consume a lot of water at a time when rivers are drying, and demand for water is on the rise,” Wanjala said.

Olkaria EcoCloud Data Centre is a local partner in the G42-led development. In 2024, the Kenya News Agency reported that G42, Microsoft and EcoCloud signed a letter of intent for the wider data-centre initiative, with EcoCloud described as a local partner that had previously signed a memorandum of understanding with G42.

Wanjala points to past fluctuations in Lake Naivasha as a warning.

“This lake in 2010 nearly dried up due to over-abstraction, and this could be repeated due to high demand for water by these investors in Olkaria,” he says.

His concern comes against a wider backdrop of water scarcity in Kenya. The Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) of the United Nations says Kenya has about 527 cubic metres (527,000 litres) of freshwater available per person, below the 1,000-cubic-metre threshold for water scarcity, and estimates availability could fall to about 475 cubic metres per person by 2030.

The figures do not show what effect the proposed data centre would have on Lake Naivasha. They provide context, however, for why the prospect of another major water user is drawing scrutiny in a region where demand is already high.

How much water would it use?

The amount of water the proposed Microsoft-G42 facility itself would require remains unclear.

The project announcement provides no projected consumption figure.

Existing industrial use offers some context.

A KenGen environmental and social impact assessment records that 195,165 cubic metres of water were abstracted from Lake Naivasha in July 2023 for domestic and commercial uses at Olkaria and for operations and domestic use at Eburru.

Of that total, 153,918 cubic metres were used for commercial operations at Olkaria. The assessment records the abstraction as within Water Resources Authority (WRA) permitted levels.

Those figures relate to existing KenGen operations, not the proposed data centre.

For farmer Eskimos Kobia, who spoke to Al Jazeera, the potential competition extends beyond households and livestock. He says farmers, pastoralists, schools and investors will all face greater pressure as demand increases.

Kimani said climate variability has also led to fluctuations in lake levels, with periods of flooding followed by prolonged dry conditions.

“Water quality is affected by agricultural run-off, untreated wastewater in some areas and invasive species,” she says.

Investment versus local concerns

Not everyone in Naivasha opposes the investment.

Absolom Mukhuusi of the Naivasha Professional Association, who spoke to Al Jazeera, says the technology sector could bring jobs, infrastructure and new businesses to the area. But he says economic benefits should not come at the expense of local communities.

“Even as we welcome the investors, our biggest fear is what happens to our water bodies and communities as water is diverted to Olkaria for the heavy users,” he says.

Could technology help?

Geologist Kenyatta Otieno, who spoke to Al Jazeera, sees another potential benefit.

He recalls the pressure large flower farms once placed on the lake’s ecosystem, saying many have since left or scaled back their operations.

Otieno says the proposed centre would have included a resource centre to monitor lake levels and weather patterns. Such monitoring, he says, could help identify the highest water level over time and guide riparian land zoning.

“The centre being built with water conservation in mind would be futuristic as Naivasha is generally a water-scarce area. It would be a model for future development,” Otieno said.

Kenya already has regulators responsible for managing competing demands. The WRA regulates water abstraction and issues water-use permits, while the National Environment Management Authority (NEMA) oversees environmental impact assessments under the country’s environmental regulatory framework.

Attempts by Al Jazeera to obtain comments from WRA and NEMA officials were unsuccessful. Efforts to reach Microsoft-G42 officials and Kenyan government officials for comment on the project’s status and water requirements were also unsuccessful.

For now, the project’s eventual scale, design and water requirements remain unclear, according to KenGen.

“We are now competing with the multibillion [-dollar] companies for water, and we fear that we shall be the losers in the long run,” Leshishi said.

A vast oil spill from a leaking tanker reached Oman’s coastline on Wednesday, its environment agency said.

This oil spill threatens to become one of the world’s worst in years after spreading largely unchecked for several weeks, experts say.

On Monday, Oman said it was working to contain the spill, which had by then affected roughly 390 square kilometres (150sq miles), according to analysis by the country’s environment agency.

The slick now covers an area of more than 2,000sq km (770sq miles), said John Amos, an oil spill specialist who reviewed satellite imagery obtained by Reuters. It could affect about 40km (25 miles) of coast near Ras Madraka, as well as Masirah Island, Oman’s Environment Authority said.

Here’s what we know.

What happened?

Oil has been leaking from the tanker Caroline Bezengi since it ran aground about 22 nautical miles (41km) from the Omani coastal town of Sharbithat some time after the crew reported a suspected explosion on June 8. It had been en route from Russia to India.

Reuters reported that the tanker was carrying an estimated 800,000 barrels of sanctioned oil and that it ran aground on June 30.

An investigation by the news agency AFP found that the ship had been stranded for several weeks near Oman’s al-Qibliyyah Island.

In the meantime, the oil has been spreading towards Oman’s coastline.

The Oman News Agency (ONA) quoted the country’s environment authority saying that “today’s monitoring results showed that some beaches in the Ras Madrakah area were affected by oil pollution”.

The Indian Ocean town sits about 200km (125 miles) from al-Qibliyyah.

The slick is now concentrated around the Hallaniyat Archipelago off the southern coast, where a marine reserve was established last year to protect sensitive ecosystems home to diverse marine life, including rare sea turtles.

On Wednesday, the ONA reported that “a coastal stretch of up to 40 km in the [Ras Madrakah] area is expected to be affected”.

The southern beaches of Masirah Island, which lies 15km (nine miles) off the coast of Oman, could be contaminated “in the coming hours”, affecting a 10-20km (six-to-12-mile) stretch of coastline, it said.

An unnamed spokesperson for the United Nations International Maritime Organization said it was “closely monitoring” the leakage.

How did this happen?

British maritime security company Vanguard told AFP that the tanker had suffered “explosions” in early June as it sailed off the coast of Yemen, causing water to enter several sections of the vessel. It ran aground off the coast of Oman some time after this.

There has been no official explanation for the explosions and no party has claimed an attack. However, the vessel was navigating two separate wars on its journey from Russia to India. Tankers have been frequently targeted in the Gulf region in recent months as the US war on Iran has continued.

In April, the Caroline Bezengi sailed from the Russian port of Novorossiysk on the Black Sea, a flashpoint in the Russia-Ukraine war.

It is believed to be part of Russia’s “shadow fleet” used to circumvent Western sanctions on its oil exports. It last sailed under a Cameroonian flag.

Rentoor Shipmanagement and Villar Shipmanagement, both based in China, are registered as the ship’s owner and operator, respectively, according to the open-source database OpenSanctions.

Russia’s shadow fleet includes ageing vessels that have often been criticised for poor maintenance, lack of insurance and lacklustre safety standards.

Ukraine has previously carried out assaults on shadow fleet vessels believed to be carrying Russian oil.

The Caroline Bezengi then passed through the Suez Canal at the end of May, ship-tracking data shows, before sailing through the Red Sea and past Yemen, where the Iran-aligned Houthi fighters have entered a wider regional war between the United States, Israel and Iran and are targeting Saudi Arabia-flagged ships.

What damage could the oil spill cause?

Last week, advocacy group Greenpeace warned that the spill was on the verge of causing an “environmental disaster”.

Christopher D’Elia, a specialist in oil spills and a professor emeritus at Louisiana State University in the United States, told Al Jazeera the estimated 800,000 barrels of crude on board the Caroline Bezengi would amount to a “fairly large spill”.

“This spill raises a lot of issues,” D’Elia told Al Jazeera.

“These illegal tankers don’t comply with the ‘polluter pays’ principle that is the basis for how the US and other developed nations regulate spills,” D’Elia said.

“The ‘responsible party’ must finance the cleanup in the US. In this case, there is no responsible party.”

Meanwhile, Iranian media reported on Wednesday that a separate oil spill in the Strait of Hormuz had reached the island of Qeshm, affecting beaches and an environmentally sensitive mangrove forest.

State-run news agency IRNA said the slick had affected areas on Qeshm’s southern coast, as well as parts of the smaller neighbouring island of Hengam.

Iran’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs spokesman Esmaeil Baghaei said pollution had been observed at three locations and on the sea surface, adding that its source seemed to be a “foreign bulk carrier”, without specifying the name of the ship.

The risk of oil spills in the Gulf has risen sharply because of strikes on tankers during the five-month US-Iran war. The International Maritime Organization (IMO) has reported 65 incidents in the Strait of Hormuz and across the Middle East since the beginning of March.

“Any party that benefits from commercial shipping through the Strait of Hormuz is legally and morally obligated to take action to compensate for and remedy the environmental damage caused to the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman,” he said.

India joins a handful of countries that have successfully deployed the zero-emission technology in their rail networks.

India has launched its first domestically built, hydrogen-powered train, as it pushes its efforts to expand clean energy use.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi inaugurated the locomotive ahead of its first trip on Friday, hailing the event as a significant day for India’s drive to become self-reliant and sustainable. The introduction of the train sees India join just a handful of countries that have successfully deployed the zero-emission technology in their rail networks.

Dubbed the “NaMo Green Rail”, including an abbreviation of the PM’s first and last names, the train will make two return trips each day along a 90km route linking the cities of Jind and Sonipat, in the state of Haryana. The 10-coach train can seat about 2,600 passengers and can travel at speeds of up to 75km/h.

Designed, engineered and built in India, the NaMo produces only heat and water vapour when running, making it an attractive alternative to diesel.

While India has already electrified almost all of its 70,000km railway network, one of the largest in the world, hydrogen trains can plug the gap where electrification is not possible.

Other countries operating hydrogen-powered trains include Japan, China, the United States and Germany, which launched the world’s first hydrogen-powered fleet in 2022.

The rollout is part of India’s wider push to expand use of hydrogen and cut its carbon emissions, with the government aiming to make the country’s railways net-zero by 2030.

Prime Minister Modi has long pushed other clean-energy efforts too, from expanding renewables to advancing India’s nuclear energy programme.

While the country still struggles with enacting effective climate policy, the launch of NaMo Green Rail marks another step towards a green transition.

The Benin Bronzes are a broad term used for the carved ivory, wooden works, metal sculptures and plaques looted by British troops during the Punitive Expedition in 1897.

Scholars estimate that more than 5,000 artefacts were stolen, some of which were gifted to Queen Victoria, others sold in auctions, held in private galleries or donated to museums across Europe and elsewhere.

The call to return the art, which began in the 1930s, intensified in the recent decade, inspired by growing pressure, repatriation activism and the relentless effort of the Benin Dialogue Group, a multilateral stakeholders’ group.

As momentum built at the peak of the homecoming of these arts, Igun Street unexpectedly found itself in the global spotlight. Diplomats, state officials, museum curators and researchers began arriving in numbers local artisans say they had never witnessed before.

This noon, Double Chief’s voice brims with pride as he points to a recently completed sculpture resting on a wooden bench. The bronze figure, a man in a suit and tie, had received its final polish only that morning after months of work.

Yet for many bronze casters, the attention has done little to solve underlying concerns.

“We are struggling to keep the industry alive,” says Oriakhi Osazee, who sits on a wooden stool at the entrance of a store in Igun. A sculptor whose mediums are clay, fibre, brass and bronze, Osazee has been in the craft for more than 35 years. He speaks with depth and conviction, drawing from vivid dates and past events to reinforce his ideas.

Efforts to recruit apprentices have stalled, he says. Young people, on whom the future of the craft depends, are increasingly leaving in search of what he calls “quick money” in other professions, cities and countries.

When their ancestors began, he recalls, their craft extended beyond bronze casting. There were, among the Iguns, men who had a gift in ivory carving. Long before the global ban on ivory trade was made official, that layer of art, without heirs and hope of continuity, had died.

For Agbonmwenre Alex, the subject of heirship within the craft is a matter of personal pain.

Alex, who was taking a tour of his workshop, began learning the craft at the age of eight under the guidance of his father. He started with errands and light tasks before progressing to kneading clay pottery. Over time, he learned every stage of the casting process, from preparing moulds to the final polishing of finished works.

Today, he is the only one of his father’s seven sons who remains in the profession. But uncertainty now hangs over the next generation.

“I would like my sons to take after me,” Alex says. “Unfortunately, I started exposing them to this craft so late. They literally see this work as outdated, archaic, and dying. The zeal, the love for the job, is dead.”

I would like my sons to take after me. They see this work as outdates, archaic, and dying. The zeal, the love for the job, is dead.

by AGNONMWENRE ALEX, BRONZE CRAFTSMAN

His first son chose to study law. His second is pursuing a degree in healthcare. Despite repeated efforts to pique their interest, including offering workshop space, raw materials and financial support to start a business of their own, neither accepted.

“The number of youths is declining drastically. It [the craft] is at risk of going into extinction. Apprentices are so scarce,” says Osazee. “We used to have a lot of apprentices in the past.”

The final journey

“By mid-June it is over,” Evansis says.

The mature cicadas, dark-shelled and spent, begin flying towards the Umrong River in large numbers and drop into the rapids. The river fills with them. Along the banks, dead cicadas collect against wet stones and bamboo roots, their wings plastered flat by the current.

Locals call it niangtaser suicide. Hajong offers a simpler explanation: Cicadas are naturally drawn to sound and movement, and the fast-moving river may trigger that instinct in their final hours.

For the fish below the surface, it is a feast. For the forest above, closure.

The journey that began four years earlier beneath the ground ends in the same river that separates Livi’s home from the sanctuary.

Not everyone has watched that cycle for as long as Kewstar Majaw.

At 92, he has witnessed more emergences than almost anyone alive in the village. He served in the Indian Army. He loves watching football. And every four years, without fail, he waits for his noisy visitors.

For Kewstar, the passing of the cicadas has become another way of measuring life. World Cups came and went. Governments changed. Forests retreated. But every four years, if the rains arrived on time and the bamboo still held, the forest sang.

As a boy, he would follow his parents into the forest carrying bamboo containers, the sound reaching them before the insects came into view. In those days, the niangtaser was everywhere. Behind houses. In the trees along village paths. Young ones, mature ones – the forest floor was alive with them.

The chorus was so loud, he recalls with a laugh, that people stuffed cotton into their ears to bear it.

The insect did not need to be searched for. It found you.

Kewstar sits quietly for a moment. At his age, he has watched the forest retreat, the bamboo thin, and the chorus fade with each passing emergence. The insect that once appeared on his doorstep now requires a torch and a walk in the dark to be found.

“It was everywhere,” he says softly. “Now you have to go looking for it.”

In a few weeks, the cicadas will disappear beneath the earth once more,  keeping time in darkness until the cycle begins again. By the next emergence, another football World Cup will be under way somewhere else in the world.

Whether Saiden’s forests will still sing with them depends on what survives until then.