As the tiny coffin was lowered into the ground the mother collapsed in the dust and began weeping uncontrollably. I was in Nairobi and attending the funeral of two-year-old Mary. The infant had been murdered by a mob from a rival tribe just a few days before.

Her plot stood amongst a sea of freshly painted white crosses at the Langata cemetery. Over 1000 people have been killed in violence that has swept through Kenya since the disputed presidential election in December 2007. An estimated 300,000 have been displaced from their homes in the turmoil.

What began as land disputes and political differences has boiled over into cross tribal hatred. Gangs from both sides have been carrying out brutal attacks with the focus of the violence being in the Rift Valley region. Fourteen years after the Rwanda genocide and it seems East Africa has a new ethnic conflict.

The mobs attack with machetes, clubs and arrows. Many locals believe that the perpetrators are hired by politically motivated forces. "If they kill you they are paid 1000 Shillings" said one teenager in Nairobi's Kibera slum. "We fear the Mungikis," he said.

The Mungikis are said to be the driving force behind much of the violence on one side of the conflict. Characterized by their dreadlocked hair, the Mungikis are a cultish sect of the Kikuyu tribe. Mobs of Mungikis have been sweeping through towns and villages on killing sprees. Then there are rival gangs from the Luo and Kalenjin tribes who are carrying out their own attacks in return.

Bodies are found mutilated or burned, and as proven by the murder of Mary, the killers do not even discriminate by age. Her widowed mother could only grab Mary's younger sister as she fled for her life during an attack in the Kibera slum. When she returned to her shack she found Mary dead, the coroner said she was strangled. I visited a school in the slum where one child told me how he saw a man dragged into the street and ritually circumcised in the manner of a rival tribe.

There has been a recent lull in the violence in Nairobi and on the surface the city seemed almost normal. But everywhere you look you can see people migrating. Families are packing up their belongings and using the calm period to relocate.

"We are going to live with our family because we are afraid," said one Nairobi slum dweller as he packed his belongings into the back of a pickup truck.

I left for Nakuru in the Rift Valley from where Operation Blessing is coordinating our response to the crisis. As we drove past magnificent views of the valley I thought it sadly ironic that here a new "rift" is developing. Only one year ago I was driving through a peaceful Kenya to Somalia to work amongst displaced Somalis. Now we were headed into the interior to provide relief to displaced Kenyans.

In stark contrast to the images of violence I had seen in the media just a few days earlier, Nakuru was quiet when we arrived. But I could immediately sense the tension in the air. Displaced people are flooding into the city from the surrounding countryside. They are converging on stadiums, showgrounds, police stations and churches in search of refuge.

GHOST VILLAGES

I visited the Nakuru Showground where 5,000 people are sheltering. Families are crammed in amongst furniture that they salvaged as they fled. I peered in under a plastic sheet suspended between a bed frame and a cupboard. A family of seven were sitting around a cooking pot being heated by burning plastic bottles. The smoke was choking. I asked the father how he was able to give me such a broad smile under the circumstances. "I can smile because I am alive" he beamed. "If we had stayed (in our village) we would already be dead".

On one side of the showground in the tiered seating there were over 1,500 children each holding a plate waiting to be fed. Some were happy to have their picture taken, others sat there listless, their eyes glazed over. I spoke with the woman coordinating the children's programs at the showground. "Some of these children will never see their parents again," she told me.

The conditions were horrific but these were the lucky ones. There are non-governmental organizations working to deliver relief to the victims in Nakuru. Our target are those people further out into the bush. Those that have lost everything and those that cannot even afford to leave in search of safety.

We drove two hours outside of Nakuru towards one of our food distribution sites. During the drive I spoke with one of our Kenyan coordinators. He is from the Taita tribe which originates from the coastal region. The Taitas are not heavily involved in the conflict so when I asked him if he felt threatened his answer concerned me. "I don't really feel in danger but my wife is a Kikuyu so I'm very affected," he said.

This reminded me of the type of things said before the Rwanda crisis. Rwanda has been mentioned a lot in conversations with other aid workers. In so many ways the Kenya crisis could head towards the same end as the atrocities in Rwanda. History has proven too many times that the words "Never again" are meaningless when spoken about genocide. It seems that the elections were the 'straw that broke the camel's back' and while the politicians negotiate a diplomatic solution in Nairobi the hatred brewing in the countryside might be uncontainable.

As we approached the distribution site signs of the violence were everywhere. Villages were like ghost towns as we passed rows of burnt homes and businesses. In one village I saw children sifting through the ashes of a burnt house. With crops and livelihoods burnt and destroyed food is a priority.

We are working with International Aid Services of Denmark to identify the victims and prioritize them according to their level of need. It was heart wrenching to see the desperation of those we had to turn away. With so many displaced there are simply not enough resources to go around.

We are also supporting our German medical partner Humedica who have a team of volunteer doctors on the ground. The crisis has escalated the risk of disease outbreaks and illnesses related to poor nutrition.

I joined the doctors as they visited the hospital in the town of Molo. The hospital's coordinator told us how many of the local medical staff had been displaced. "Our doctors and nurses find it difficult to help victims when they are victims themselves," he said.

Molo has 59 makeshift camps dotted around the town and people continue to arrive from the countryside seeking safety in numbers. Victims of the violence have been pouring into the hospital. Machete wounds to the head and throat are one of the most common reasons for death. The hospital has also seen over 100 deaths and injuries from arrow shots. A doctor showed me arrowheads that had been extracted from some of the victims.

An added dimension of fear has been added through the spreading of propaganda that the arrows are extremely poisonous - there is an old tradition of tipping arrows with snake venom. But the doctor said it was hard to make poisoned arrows.

For Kenya to recover from this crisis, security first needs to be restored. But then there is a deeper issue of healing. We are working with IAS on a program to train trauma counselors and place them in 100 villages throughout the Rift Valley. Our program of providing relief and counseling is aimed at helping this crisis from worsening and helping Kenya to regain itself.

In amongst all of this suffering I have been searching for hope and keep thinking back to the smiling man in Nakuru showground. His family had lived in the same village for generations, but he was now displaced and living under a plastic sheet.

"All we want is peace and I'm sure we will have it," he said smiling. Hearing this man offer up hope out of the ashes gave me fresh optimism for Kenya.

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