There was a village nestled between two other villages. Because of its small size, people assumed it was merely an extension of one or the other. Whenever aid arrived, whether relief food registration, support from NGOs, or assistance from the Kenyan government, the people of this village always found themselves caught in the middle. Those from Nangoridengo would say they belonged to Nakwamekwi, while those from Nakwamekwi insisted they belonged to Nangoridengo.
What was the village to do?

Tired of existing in the shadows of others, its people set out to establish themselves as a village in their own right. They gave themselves a name: Choro.

The name was borrowed from Choro Island in Lake Turkana, inspired by their sense of isolation and by having nowhere to go, nowhere to run after being denied by all the surrounding villages. Choro became a declaration of existence, a claim to belonging.

Over time, the younger generation tweaked the name and affectionately transformed it into Chorogascar.

And Chorogascar is my home.