Every evening whenever I watch news bulletin, there is always a clip on war. This is not normal and it is not what humanity is all about. We are genuinely loving, peaceful people and no matter our circumstances, there is no reason for war.

David Njenga is sitting at home--a dank, claustrophobic room in Rongai--with his wife and two young children. Perhaps ironically for a man whose legs ...

The people of Rongai need their diversions. The monotony of the fields, the doldrums of village life every so often require some recreational respite. And that is just what Rongai Park Casino has to offer.

So after finishing form four last November, she wanted to attend university to pursue that enthusiasm--and eventually, a career. But like so many other youth in this area, poverty stunted her growth.

The dried mud walls of Talai Kosgei's home are a common feature around Legetio. Bricks and stones are expensive and in short supply, so many farmers rely on the soil to construct their kitchens, if not their main houses.

"We call this area Nairobi," says Wesley Rotich, gazing across a 50 acre basin of severely eroded land, punctuated by red mud stacks of various sizes. "Nairobi is all tall buildings and short buildings and it looks like this."

At least three species from the human family Homo may have lived together in Africa almost two million years ago, new research suggests. One of the...

Two things stand out about Lonah Koech's seven children: In a village where many struggle with daily needs like water or school fees, all of these children are covered in a thin layer of dust, and almost none of them are wearing shoes.

At 72 years old, Daniel Kihuga's dreams about fish are finally coming true.

For many smallholder farmers in the Rift Valley, tilling the soil is more necessity than calling, more occupation than interest. They do it to eat, to support a family, to survive. They usually do it also to grow maize.

The moon still casts a silver glow over Legetio when Robert Ndeno gets up to milk the cows. Every morning at 6 am the 24-year-old 'shamba boy' makes his way across the dew-soaked grass to the small wooden hut.

It's difficult to describe Rongai without mentioning the litter. It's everywhere, strewn across the streets and piled in the drainage ditches; it's worse in the back alleys, where great mounds of rubbish accumulate beside buildings.

About 500 tilapia fish swim about in a brackish pond at the back of Margaret Wanjika's house at the base of Visoy Hill.

There is something universally human about a smile--a friendly reminder between people of different races, cultures, ethnicities that we share something in common, some fundamental humanness.

Communities in Kenya have been keeping bees for honey for longer than any can remember -the product both a valued food and a respected medicine in rural parts.

On a sunny Wednesday morning Simion Arap Kigen sits outside his home in the rural village of Burgei. His house is unique for a number of reasons, not least because it has running water.

In a country where the average lifespan is 63 years, Lucy Rator is an anomaly. The sharp, spritely grandmother to more than 20 is somewhere around 84 or 85--although she is no longer quite sure.

In a dusty room inside a disused Boito warehouse sits a perfectly functioning posho mill, draped in cobwebs and surrounded by corn husks, it hasn't seen service since 2010. The reason: the women's group that owns it can no longer afford to pay Kenya Power for the electricity required to run it.

The main highway through the heart of Kenya is crowded with trucks and boda bodas (bicycle taxis), a winding paved road that stretches from Mumbasa on the coast, west through the Rift Valley, and eventually across the border into Uganda.