For generations, livestock shaped what the Daasanach ate and how they lived. Milk and meat were central foods, while fishing was often seen as something people turned to when they had no animals left.
Then a historic drought hit northern Kenya.
As herds shrank and families struggled to find enough food, more people began fishing on nearby Lake Turkana. What had once carried social stigma became an increasingly important source of food and income. At the same time, adults and children lost weight, children’s growth slowed and some nutritional effects lingered even after the rains returned.
The study, published in Global Environmental Change, followed 515 adults and 384 children from 2019 through 2024. That unusually long window allowed researchers to observe the community before, during and after the Greater Horn of Africa drought, which lasted from late 2020 into 2023.
“When we started this project, we were interested in understanding long-term water and food security among a population living in a hot, dry environment that is highly susceptible to droughts,” said lead author Asher Rosinger, an associate professor of biobehavioral health and anthropology at Penn State. “We didn’t know we were about to witness one of the most severe droughts in recent history, which allowed us to see how people adapted as conditions changed.”
The Daasanach traditionally rely heavily on livestock, both economically and for foods such as milk and meat. As animals died or herds shrank during the drought, access to those foods declined.
Researchers found that adults and children lost weight during the drought and that children experienced slower growth in height. Although reported food and water insecurity improved after the drought ended, some measures of nutritional health had not fully recovered by 2024.
“The physical consequences of the drought lasted well beyond the return of the rains,” Rosinger said. “Children’s growth did not fully recover during the period we studied, highlighting that these events can have long-term health consequences.”
Children who consumed more milk during the drought also tended to have better nutritional outcomes. Because this was an observational study, however, researchers cannot conclude that milk itself caused those differences. Families that retained access to milk may also have differed in other ways that affected children’s nutrition.
The drought also changed which foods families were willing to rely on.
Fishing had traditionally carried social stigma among the Daasanach. Livestock were highly valued, while people without animals sometimes turned to fishing and could be viewed as poor.
As livestock became harder to maintain, more families began fishing on Lake Turkana. Fish provided food and could also be sold to help families buy other necessities.
As fishing became more common, the stigma surrounding it diminished.
“The fact that Daasanach widely moved more toward fishing and that the stigma went away shows how large shocks like extreme drought can affect cultural processes, including behaviors and norms that govern how people act and how they perceive each other,” Rosinger said.
The shift shows how food traditions can change when the resources supporting them suddenly become scarce. Fishing was not simply a new menu choice. It became part of how families adapted to the loss of livestock, changes in income and greater difficulty getting enough food.
The drought did not affect everyone equally.
Women reported greater food and water insecurity and experienced larger losses in body fat, particularly during the worst part of the drought. Women in the community are often responsible for collecting water and preparing food and may eat after other family members, factors that could make shortages especially difficult for them.
Changes extended beyond food.
As herding became harder, families traveled less with livestock and increasingly settled closer to towns, where they could access food assistance, schools and other services.
Those shifts did not completely reverse once the drought ended.
Food and water insecurity improved, but livestock herds remained diminished and some changes in diet, mobility and nutritional status persisted. In other words, the return of rain did not immediately mean a return to the way people had eaten or lived before.
The findings come from one specific community and should not be assumed to describe how every population responds to drought. Different cultures, food systems and local environments can lead to different forms of adaptation.
The study also cannot prove that any one dietary change caused the nutritional changes researchers observed. Instead, it documents how a major environmental shock affected food availability, eating patterns, livelihoods and health at the same time.
For the researchers, that broader picture matters because rainfall measurements alone cannot show what food and water shortages actually mean in daily life.
“People’s lived experiences of water insecurity provide important information about how drought affects health and well-being,” Rosinger said, noting that environmental data cannot show how often people go without water, go to bed thirsty or skip bathing because water is unavailable.
Following the community for several years also revealed something a snapshot taken during the drought might have missed: recovery was uneven.
“Being able to see the process from before to after the drought was critical,” Rosinger said. “It allowed us to see how the landscape and water sources transformed and how people were affected and, importantly, responded to it.”
The research was supported by Penn State University and grants from the National Science Foundation and the National Institutes of Health, including the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development and the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences.