Travels Westwards

I’m in West Africa for a couple of weeks, working with Finance colleagues in Burkina Faso and Mali prior to our taking on their accounts in our office in Nairobi. Other than a trip to Ghana in 2000, this is my first time in West Africa, and certainly the first time in Francophone West Africa. I’ve not been off the Centre much, so other than the obvious difference in language and climate: Nairobi was about 16C when I left, whilst in Ouagadougou (great name!) it’s a very humid 30C! One of the things that has struck me when I have ventured off the Centre is the number of bikes, both pedal and motor, and particularly the number of ladies riding them! Not something we see in East Africa. Where you do get bikes (more upcountry than in the city), it’s generally men riding them, with ladies possibly riding side-saddle behind them. Here, there are plenty of ladies riding along in their finery, sometimes with babies strapped to their back, and / or basins and bags balanced on their heads.
We went to a Craft ‘Market’ this morning, which is where I got to try out the djembe. Not sure that I’ll make it to the percussion section of the orchestra just yet!

Fuel Economy

There’s a weekly email called ‘Nairobi News’ that is sent to everyone in my organisation who’s based in Nairobi. The main content is normally of items for sale, either by missionaries leaving the field, or simply replacing things, or of general information. However, the distributor has recently starting including tips on vehicle useage, be that safety or, as in the case this week, fuel economy. Petrol has gone up 30% here over the last year (as it has in many parts of the world), a litre now selling at just over 100KES (about 80pence). For those in the UK, this will seem quite cheap, but considering that 50% of the population here has less than 50p a day to live on, that’s a lot of money. Anyway, the tip this week was that driving at 90km/h instead of 110km/h will save 25% of fuel. It did make me laugh! Whilst a good tip in and of itself, in this context, it’s completely useless! My usual average speed over a month, in and around Nairobi (and this includes trips out to Karen when I’m not (well, at least, not always) in nose to tail traffic) is 25 km/h!!! My new car has a screen which tells me so! Even more depressing was the trip I made to Kimilili when I thought that I’d get a better idea of things. The road was so bad in parts that I averaged a staggering 46 km/h!!! (Hence why I was driving for 10 hours.) My car cleverly tells me how many km I’m averaging per litre of fuel – that’s pretty depressing too!

If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise…….

One of the things I always love about visits back to the UK, is walks in the countryside. Living in a city where the crime rate is high, the options for that here in Nairobi are somewhat limited. Plus often when you do, say up the Ngong Hills, you’re recommended to take an armed guard with you in case of bandits! Last weekend, I went away with a couple of friends to a cottage near Lake Naivasha, and two of us seized the opportunity to go for a lovely walk on Saturday morning. Mind you, you never know what you might meet! In the course of the 3 hours that we were out, we passed through herds of plains animals (zebra, Thomson gazelle, hartebeest, warthog, impala..); stumbled (almost literally) on a python, which was at least 2m in length; came across (and released) 3 snares set by poachers; and passed by 7 buffalo. The latter caused most concern as buffalo are notoriously bad-tempered, and are to be kept at a distance. We also kept a healthy distance each time we wandered down to the lake, from the hippo wallowing in the water and mud there, and even more so when they were out of the water. It’s hard to imagine when you see how ponderous and large they appear most of the time, but they can apparently run at 18mph if threatened, and it’s said that they cause more human deaths than buffaloes, elephants or rhinos.

Living Dangerously!

In Nairobi, cattle are herded along the streets, generally by Masai, but in rural areas they (and goats and sheep) seem to roam fairly freely. I was just waiting for these cows to wander in front of this butchery on the main road running through Kimilili – they nonchalantly continued to graze oblivious to the fate that could await them if they hung around for too long! (The red and white hand cart is what’s used to transport meat around – non-refrigerated of course!)

Rutted Roads

You see some sights here as far as roads are concerned. One thing I’d never seen before coming to Kenya, other than on mud farm tracks, was ruts in the road. Here, it’s not in the mud (well, you do find that too!) but in the tarmac. Last week driving to Kimilili, there were several sections where the road was rutted – and this is one of the main highways between Nairobi and Kampala. One of my main requirements for a vehicle? Clearance!

Sobering Journey

I travelled up to Kimilili in western Kenya last Friday to spend the weekend with Pastor Kevin Wanjala and his family, and to preach at one of his churches on Sunday. Despite having visited Kimilili many times before, it was my first time driving in that direction since returning to Kenya at the end of January, and therefore the first time since the violence at the beginning of the year. To get to Kimilili, I pass through Nakuru and Eldoret, both names that appeared in the news all too often at that time. About half an hour from Nakuru, we began to pass destroyed buildings, generally missing at least the roof. In the case of mud houses, all that remained was the floor. What was particularly surreal was that it wasn’t every building. There were those that remained in tact – presumably belonging to Kalenjin, the destroyed ones having been occupied by Kikuyu. I wondered how many of the people who were around at the side of the road had themselves been involved in the violence, either as perpetrators or as victims. Every now again, we passed groups of white tents, some with Kenya Red Cross vehicles outside, others with UNHCR emblazoned in blue across them: IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camps. To lose your home and possibly have witnessed friends and relatives being brutally killed must have been traumatic enough. To still be in these crude camps 6 months on ………..It’s hard to begin to imagine the sense of loss. So often, we hear in the news of violence, catastrophes and tragedies. Then the news moves on, whilst those affected continue to live with the aftermath of what has happened. At one point, we passed two army trucks. Sitting in the back of the first one were soldiers, brandishing their rifles (a sight not uncommon here, be that military, police or security guards). It was only on passing the truck at the front that I realised what the vehicles were about, as sitting in this one were civilians – IDPs, presumably either being relocated from one camp to another, or possibly being returned ‘home’, whatever state their home was now in. It wasn’t all gloom however. There were places where people had evidently returned and were trying to rebuild their lives – fresh piles of bricks as people worked on reconstructing their buildings and livelihoods.
I didn’t see any evident signs of destruction in Kimilili itself, but many of those in the church who fled the area at the beginning of the year have yet to return – if they ever will. Kevin and Lyn took in approximately 50 displaced families during the course of the troubles, erecting a big tent in the compound of their mud house, and stretching their resources to the limit. “It was terrible”, said Kevin, referring to the time that displaced people arrived in Kimilili from nearby Mount Elgon seeking refuge, threatening leaflets then being distributed by the Sabaot Land Defence Army throughout the town. It appears to be life as usual there now, the maize in the fields growing tall and starting to show signs of a good harvest to come, but there is a lot of hurt under the surface, and when it comes down to it, nothing has been resolved.