BETWEEN the high rises of Nairobi and the luxury hotels of Mombasa lies a swathe of Kenyan poverty the tourists never see.

Over a vast expanse of scrubland, millions of small farmers eke out an existence growing maize, beans and millet. Some keep a few cattle which they sell to raise cash for their children's education and a few precious luxuries.

It is a modest existence, unchanged for centuries. In normal times it serves to feed and clothe a family adequately.

But these are not normal times. Throughout Kenya's eastern provinces, and in the north, the rains have failed. In some places they have failed twice, in other places three times in a row.

The farmers in Kitui district show me their shrivelled crops; the diminutive cobs of corn and withered beanstalks. The local butchers have donated cattle blood to families which have no other source of food. About 2.5 million Kenyans are already touched by famine.

The Kitui farmers still have food in their bellies. Their mango frees provide copious quantities of nutritious fruit. But how long will this last, as their land turns to dust before their eyes and their cattle die for lack of water?

It is not just the rains that have failed. The famine shows more clearly than ever the total collapse of good administration in this once prosperous country.

Even in the bad years, Kenya should have no problem producing a food surplus, thanks to the fertile areas of the central highlands.

However, the grain growers of the granary areas are planting less, because the price at which they are forced to sell is too low. This is set by corrupt officials who insist on taking their cut.

Aid agencies have been sounding the alarm bells for up to a year, but the government turned a blind eye. In Kitui, five local MPs even issued a statement denying any food shortages.

And the EU office in Nairobi told Trocaire and other agencies that if the government did not think there was a famine, then there could not be one.

Yet Inez Keenan, an APSO volunteer nurse, shows me charts from the local hospital which reveal malnutrition rates of up to 80 per cent among young children in Kitui. Up to half the child deaths recorded last year were from malnutrition.

It took a proclamation by the Catholic bishops to smoke out the President, Mr Daniel arap Moi. After months of denial he suddenly declared a state of emergency last week to deal with the famine. Over seven million tons of maize will be imported. The five MPs quickly changed their tune.

But in true Moi style, the President also gave himself sweeping powers which he claimed were necessary to deal with the famine. He can direct the detention of persons, impose curfews, remove diplomatic privileges and censor communications (such as this one).

None of these measures will put food on the tables of hungry peasants, but they may help the President, himself the owner of several huge ranches in the highlands, win the election due later this year.

Now that the famine is official, government officials have been blitzing such places as Kitui, followed faithfully by the cameras of the state broadcasting services. But the allocation of 1kg of maize a month is insufficient to feed a large family for even a day.

Trocaire has plans for its own food for work distribution to be organised through the local Catholic diocese, using maize and beans supplied by the EU.

However, these have been delayed for months by the slow response from Brussels. When Africans starve, it seems as though bureaucracy kicks in wherever corruption stops.