Welcome, the Rains…

So now it’s raining cats and dogs, which is normal for the month of March headed for April. Except that the rain started in January – now that’s not normal. January is the month when, if my memory serves me right, the sand would scorch your feet if you dared to walk bare foot. So dry, so hot, was Jan and Feb.

Furthermore the rain is falling in floody, even deadly torrents in places where just months ago people were dying of drought and famine. That too is not quite the norm. But then what is normal anymore, in terms of weather and climate? Meteorologists and other experts are scratching their heads trying to figure out what is going on and why, and no real answers are forthcoming. Of course they always have something to say to the layperson if only to allay our fears.

That seasons have changed worldwide is no secret anymore, never mind the popular reasons for the same, read global warming. Extreme, unpredictable weather be that snow, rain, heat wave, drought, hailstorms, strong winds etc. are the order, and fear of the day.

For us though it’s a welcome surprise and relief as the country has been through a series of devastating droughts, leading to crop failure and loss of lives even. Barring for the few but sad losses occasioned by the current rainfall, we are indeed blessed to be dealing with a wet situation as opposed to a dry one.

The transformation from brown to lush green landscapes is always a delight as is the sight of pastoralists herding their cattle back home in masses after the long search for pasture, now gladly over.

Extreme weather is here to stay for a while at least, it seems, but hopefully we will put our excess rainfall to good use and store needed moisture for the dry day…

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Sweet Moments of Glory...

It’s absolutely amazing to be World Champions in something as awesome as Athletics. That’s what our beloved athletes did for Kenya at the World Cross Country (2010) in Poland.

Oh the joy, oh the pride! They’ve done us proud again, these sportsmen and women. At the same time our Rugby Team (Shujaa) was doing its thing at the Hong Kong Sevens. Now this may not have been the rosiest of their performances but this amazing team has accomplished feats that are nothing short of legendary, having beaten pretty much each of the big wigs at one time or another, and standing at number 7 overall in the world (was 6 till Hong Kong, but that’s temporary. We will triumph!)

Our rugby boys literary electrify Stadiums wherever they play with their pace and finesse, and send the crowds roaring, momentarily forgetting whom they should be cheering. We laud you, Shujaa, we laud you, our athletes!

And how can we forget our swimming Team that swept to number one in Africa overall with numerous medals to their name early this year! How can one not be proud to be Kenyan… Not to mention our Volleyball Teams that literally dominate the African scene...

You have to admit there’s something special about this land, something that must be nursed and released to thrive and become what it was always meant to be… a centre for excellence.

Was it a coincidence, do you think, that after the most painful period in our nation’s history, it was Kenya’s national anthem that played last at the Beijing Olympics as Wanjiru sprinted to the marathon victory…? Oh what vindication, what comfort, what honour…

I wonder how many more sportsmen and women are waiting in the wings out there, or how many more are yet to be born. All I know is, there’ll never lack a star, many stars infact, to represent and bring glory to this country, putting us squarely on the world’s map – for all the right reasons. And this, dear Kenyans, is how we must see our country, what we must nurse and protect, the togetherness, the excellence, the potential, the power within, through which we should all do our part to propel this great nation to triumphant heights.

It’s obvious we can dominate the World scene in whatever we aspire to. Let’s aspire to dominate in development, peace, fairness, equitableness, progress, prosperity… Can we maybe one day (soon) say, Kenya has the highest per capita income in the world? Think about that…

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A song for Kenya

Kenya - a beautiful and rare jewel that we must refine and polish for all to see and delight in. Kenya my country I bleed for you, a gnawing pain in my heart as I see your potential, what you can be if only the obstacles could melt away...

Kenya my country
Delight my heart
Comfort me in my sorrow
Tell me there’s hope
That soon not later
We shall awake to something new
Something good and beautiful
Something real

That we shall cross over
And be them that give
Not the other way round
Be the pride and envy
Of those around us
Possess for ourselves
What we admire in others

Kenya my country
Respond to all the prayers
And rise from the ashes
To bud and to flourish
Rouse yourself from surrender
And take on new strength
Strength to grow and to change
Strength to be all you can be
Strength to stand tall
Strength to be whom God meant you to be

Across the Nithi

Recently I found myself travelling a lot around Mt. Kenya region and it surprised me that I had never taken the time to do so till now. Unbelievable how easy it is to board a plane to wherever when local tourism is teeming with wonderful sights, tastes and sounds.

All my life I have been fascinated with River Nithi, but I had never, till now, been to Meru or anywhere where I’d need to cross the Nithi. So when I finally had to make the journey to Meru, I rarely slept the night before thinking how I’d have to cross that river. See, this has been a traffic black-spot since time immemorial. They say there is a force in the ground that forces vehicles off the road. (No details please, I’m no expert on the subject.) And judging from the number of accidents and the numerous dents on the roadside barricade, one has to conclude it’s true. Only fools dare to speed here, either uphill or downhill.

So as I headed to Meru the following day I said to a friend who was with me, ‘Make sure to let me know when we approach River Nithi.’ (She was from Meru and knew the route well). ‘Sure,’ she responded.

The road to Meru is quite hilly and full of hair-raising bends, but local leaders have done a good job of ensuring the roads are smooth and well marked. Bravo! No potholes here. As such the journey is much more comfortable than it would otherwise be, or than it used to be before the road repairs.

I waited and waited. Meru is no less than 4 and a half hrs from Nairobi. I saw many treacherous bridges, bends and hills, but nothing posing any serious danger to travellers. The driver was very careful and there was absolutely no cause for alarm in this journey. I almost couldn’t believe this was the journey I had dreaded all my life, and that had kept me awake the previous night.

I had also heard stories about how recklessly Miraa transporters drive along this route. That turned out to be completely true. They sped and overtook with abandon, headlamps blazing, waiting and stopping for nothing and no one. Luckily they weren’t that frequent so as long as one was careful you could always stay out of their way.

I observed one or two suspicious looking bridges which I could have sworn were the Nithi, but my friend was deep in conversation and after asking her once or twice whether we had yet passed the Nithi I had decided to be patient. She assured me she would definitely point out the Nithi to me.

About 4 hours later I started seeing sign-posts reading Meru this, Meru that, and I had this faint suspicion we were approaching Meru town and my friend had forgotten to show me the Nithi. So I asked, ‘Pray, where is the Nithi?’ to which she replied, ‘Oh, did you not see it?’

‘You were supposed to show it to me,’ I reminded her.

‘Sorry I forgot,’ she stated.

Two words, disappointment that I had crossed the mighty Nithi and not realized it; and relief that it was all over. I concluded it couldn’t then be as bad as people claim if I had passed it without noticing.

‘Then there is no Nithi,’ I declared to the whole vehicle.

‘What?’ they chorused. ‘River Nithi definitely exists.’

‘Then how come I didn’t notice it, no one showed it to me, and I didn’t see anything on this road that much out of the ordinary?’ I asked.

‘Trust us, the Nithi exists and is very dangerous.’ They insisted.

On my way back I did see the Nithi. It does not appear as dangerous as it actually is. To be honest to the naked eye a few other spots on this road appear much more dangerous. Except for the very long and steep hill, and a slight bend at the bottom, nothing much else looks any different from much of the Meru route. However if you are observant you immediately notice the raised bumpy partition in the middle as the authorities try to make sure vehicles don’t attempt to overtake here (though I have since witnessed a matatu cross this partition and proceed to overtake!)

You also notice the barricades on either side of the road, as well as the many dents that are evidence of numerous accidents or near-accidents here. You notice also, that most drivers slow way down at this spot, and bigger vehicles like trucks literally crawl, as they are perfect candidates for the ground force that pulls vehicles off the road here.

After this journey I felt wiser and initiated into that ever-growing club of those of us who have crossed the Nithi. I’ve been to Meru many times since, and now, since learning the true danger of the Nithi (the force), I respect the rather innocent looking slope, and I always breathe a silent sigh of relief once I’m clear off this spot. If I notice the driver moving a bit too fast, or he/she is new and doesn’t understand the place, I caution them and break no bones about it. Better safe than sorry.

Either way, it’s always a relief to finally reach Embu, and leave the Meru hills and bends behind. But the beauty of this region, with Mt. Kenya towering right over it, is breathtaking. In fact, the reason for all the hills and bends is that this is indeed the beginning of the ascent to the Mountain.

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Journey to our New Constitution

After 20 years, we’re about to have a new constitution – but then that’s the story of our life - so near yet so far. If I had a nickel for each time we were told, or it seemed, a new constitution was in sight….

But then I suppose there’s a positive side to this. When it finally is ready, it will be like a well-matured wine – or cheese. I don’t believe this is a document to be hurried, and, seeing as we do have an existing constitution, it’s probably better to take our time and turn every stone, than to rush and find we’ve dug ourselves into a hole.

The best time to produce such a document is when everyone is feeling philanthropic and nationally patriotic, and I believe this was the mood during the earlier successful consensus-building meeting. Then one thing led to another and goodwill disappeared and the latest attempt at the same failed as personal interest took centre stage.

I say in that kind of climate it’s better to delay the document than to bring down or pollute 20years of intelligent, excruciating, and dedicated work.

When we do finally have a new constitution, everything that can possibly be discussed will have been discussed for twenty years at least. Indeed, many Kenyans from all walks of life now know to various levels of detail what is in the new constitution. This is a document we own, and that sense of participation and ownership is deeply necessary for patriotism and national cohesion.

This is a people’s document and everyone involved knows as long as there’ll be a referendum, the people’s wishes cannot be ignored.

So it’s with great anticipation that we all wait for what finally seems to be the year of the new constitution. If it does happen we will all breath a sigh of relief and say, ‘Whew! Are we glad that’s finally over…’ If it fails we will breath a sigh of resignation and say, ‘Oh…so close! but not at all surprising. Another round of debates, and yet more expenditure of public funds.’

This time though we all really hope it succeeds, and there’s real expectation in the air. Indeed anyone who interferes with this for no genuine reason will be a true disappointment to Kenyans. There has never been a better time in our country’s history to finally produce a new constitution…

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Matatu Mania

The guy seated next to me half stood and tightly clutched the seat in front. We were approaching the Mbagathi slope from Karen towards Ngong. The Matatu (mini-bus) was moving fast and showed no sign of slowing down.

‘Is he a new driver on this route?’ I wondered. Only drivers new to this route dare to keep such speeds at this particular spot. See, after a relatively level section, the road gently ascends then suddenly dips and curves to the right, before curving again to the left near the bottom – with a deep ravine to the right.

Many a speeding, drunk or absent-minded driver have driven right off the road at this point and landed in various positions on the side of the road, usually the left if they’re coming from Karen, the right if from Ngong. Oh, did I mention, the slope continues in the same curving motions on the other side of the stream, though a bit gentler.

I would have been just as concerned as the guy next to me, except I had gauged the driver through this journey (I do that almost unconsciously), and knew he wasn’t a very dangerous driver. He seemed to have a sober head on his shoulders and somehow I knew he would slow down soon enough, which he went on to do, thankfully.

Once I conclude in my mind that I have entered a Mat with a dangerous driver, there are a few places I will ensure they don’t drive me across. This particular hill being number one: Had I decided this driver was dangerous I would have alighted at Karen and taken a Nissan Matatu (they’re smaller therefore more stable on such terrain – well, usually); number two would be Valley Road, another hill where I’ll do my best not to descend on the wings of a driver with something to prove.

Which reminds me of Christmas day last year. My husband and I were headed home, a few other family members in our car. The roads were amazingly clear, after all it was Christmas and most Kenyans had already travelled either upcountry or various holiday destinations. There should have been no traffic jam, and there was none till we neared Githurai, where suddenly the jam was chock-block. A distance of less than three minutes was now promising to take over half an hour.

A few minutes into the jam the Mats found a way, much like a river finds its way through any terrain. They crossed the one-way-traffic highway to the other side and proceeded to drive ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY! Now you might think that’s an absurd thing to do except occasionally as directed by police when situations call for a diversion, but no, not with our Mats…it’s common practice to deal with jam this way. Soon the vehicles with the right of way were having a hard time dodging the Mats headed their way.

Others did another common trick, they decided to use the sidewalks or imaginary lanes on either side of the road. Unfortunately on either side there was a ditch half covered with grass though any level-headed person could see it. Soon about six Matatus, (no exaggeration), were half on their side in the ditch and were going nowhere fast anymore. They were stuck! Only one thought was going through my mind, and tongue, ‘For goodness sake could they not see the ditch? They drove right into the ditch!’ And most car and other sober drivers went into a righteous rage over this.

Now I remember with longing those two or so years when sanity was temporarily restored on our roads and Matatus drove like quiet lambs and did not bother overtake because they had to observe 80km/hr anyway. I marvelled greatly that it was actually possible for our Mats to tow the line with a bit of strictness in the law. When they didn’t drive on pavements and sidewalks, and passengers were treated with the dignity they deserved. But those days were short-lived and now we’re back to holding our breath and riding on the edge of our seat like my friend in the Mat, hoping each journey will end well, and breathing a sigh of relief when we’re finally able to say, ‘shukisha’ (or ‘my stop, please’).

As long as we’re in this city we may not avoid the occasional Matatu ride, but to tell you the truth, I wish I could take my car every time. I look forward to the next bout of sanity on our roads, real sanity, not the occasional crackdown that only works when cops are in sight and it’s back to Matatu mania as soon as we’re round the bend.

In the name of courtesy, in the name of safety, in the name of mwananchi mtukufu, (esteemed citizen) I pray for sanity on our roads.

A Sobering Moment

So on landing back home, November 2007, just before the elections…. Would you believe it! there were all the signs that something was likely to go terribly wrong. But really, it couldn’t… This was Kenya, the ‘Island of Peace’, what could go wrong? we thought.

A lot, it turned out! We were treated to a side of ourselves we had never seen, or had hoped never to see. The fire that had been smouldering all along now had flared. So like the good Kenyans we are we prayed, man did we pray!

I remember being holed up in my house for the whole period of chaos and subsequent talks. But I also remember something else - the prayers seemed to be working. Through a rather muddled, difficult period and negotiations, God seemed to do amazing things right before our eyes and slowly turned our beloved country around.

Kenyans prayed, wherever they were. Even before I left the UK that year I had begun to pray over the elections. Everyone following events back home knew it was time for divine intervention.

The good thing with our nation is that we still collectively believe in God and divine intervention, so leaders from all walks of life called for prayer days and people responded. We fasted and prayed. At one time I remember crying out and saying, ‘God please do something. I’m hungry, tired and sleepy, I can’t do this much longer.’ See we hardly slept, I felt guilty when I woke up in the middle of the night to be asleep when my country was tearing itself apart, so I’d jump right out of bed and go pray. Ever doubted the power of prayer? Once you’ve experienced it you never doubt again.

My country lost something that year - her innocence. We were humbled as a nation. We would no longer lecture our neighbours with our noses in the air about peace and order. We would think twice before using that term ‘Island of Peace’ again. We had been stripped of pride and haughtiness, and were now the laughingstock of the world - oh and the world press loved it!

Sure, we had witnessed election flare-ups since the 90s in a few sections of the Rift, but never since the struggle for independence had Kenya seen chaos or risen against their neighbours on such a scale.

I firmly believe Kenyans love each other. Otherwise how had we existed for over 40years so peacefully side by side? But with our complex ethnic mix it’s easy for a few people to exploit this diversity which has otherwise always been our strength. And that’s exactly what happened in 2007.

Our country is back on track and we’re busy pursuing a new Constitution (something we’ve done for the last 20 years, but that’s a topic for another day).

To all good Kenyans I say, never stop praying for this land. That way where you and I are unable to intervene, God Himself will work it out for us. Where we don’t seem to have any direct influence, we will exert spiritual influence, which is way above all the power and money the world can afford. We may not be in positions of earthly power, but in prayer we pool together a power irresistible to all human wisdom.

Our image is slowly being restored though image is subjective. People come to us for what we can offer, not for what they’ve heard. Otherwise why are some perpetually conflict countries doing so well in both economy and tourism? Think about that.

So we shouldn’t get caught up in trying to prove ourselves too much to the world. We just need to be and do our thing, the good and beneficial things, and the world will come. It’s all about ‘what’s in it for me’ people!

Hopefully now we know where we never want to find ourselves again, and what we need to do to stop it from ever happening again.

We always need a country to come back to, a land we can call our own by natural right. Thus it’s imperative that Kenyans never find themselves in another country as forced refugees. If we do go away, please let it be by choice….

How I fell in love with my country...

One word - Patriotic - is what you become once you leave the Kenyan shores and fly away to yonder lands of opportunities. Fiercely loyal to the land you left behind!.

Before I went to the UK, all I wanted was to leave Kenya and never come back. Warped, don't you think? Everything around seemed to frustrate me; the leadership (especially), the cops, the roads (goodness were they bad those days, just before 2002), corruption (well...) unemployment, Matatu mania... Everything screamed get out, get out, get out! So I did.

It never takes long though for reality to set in and you realize opportunities in the 'lands of opportunity' only come at the price of a pound of your flesh... literally! You also begin to realize these lands too have their frustrations, pet subjects that are ever on the news; bad education system, errant youths whose path you'd rather not cross, meagre pension, airport/train strikes etc.

Soon you begin to miss the things you so took for granted back home. Easy jobs that didn't demand you stand or carry all day, the guaranteed sense of identity - I mean you didn't have to prove you were Kenyan with some document, it was taken for granted, only providing proof of identity on very official matters. We take for granted the right to belong, the right to work, the right to travel. But I can assure you until you've been abroad and suffered the acute identity crisis, you'll never know how crucial these are. Acquiring the necessary documents while out there helps a bit with logistics, but still doesn't grant the deep sense of belonging that God-given identity provides.

I fell deeply in love with my country over the five years I was in the UK. I never thought roots could be so deep. Anything that reminded me of home was highly welcome, like the potholes on a small section of a road at the Colnbrook Industrial park, or the potholes on a section of a residential road that I took while driving to Woking High where I taught for a year.

My, I'd never thought a pothole could look so attractive. 'Oh mama,' I said, 'just like home!' And I genuinely enjoyed using these routes to catch a glimpse of home. Well, don't judge me, it looked amazingly like the section of Ngong Rd from around the show ground all the way to Ngong town. By the way, what's up with that at a time when all roads in Kenya are being recarpetted, even those in the villages? I'm glad to be home but I want better memories than potholes next time I catch the travel bug...

So I can confidently say I'm now a die-hard Kenyan loyal and pray that my country forever holds together so when we go out we can always return when homesickness sets in. Trust me, many Kenyans out there would hop back home just like that if logistics allowed.... but that has to be experienced to be understood...

Najivunia kuwa mkenya, I'm deeply in love with this land and just wanna see it transform into a land of opportunity so we won't see the need to ever leave, except for holiday....

Nairobi's backyard

They say Nairobi is the only city with a national park at its doorstep. If you ever had any doubts, take a look at these photos my husband and I took one afternoon when we decided to take my bro's kids for a 'walk'- well, a 'drive in the park'....

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