Of timers

We are seated in a meeting being conducted in sessions that are scheduled to take place in intervals. Just before the meeting, attendants have got the time to catch up and familiarise with each other, a step that aids in ridding hostility off 'strangers' and which happens to be a common experience when people meet for the first time or when they get to interact in forums other than the work place or class room.

The sessions are fairly set apart and the breaks frequency considerable, however, human beings get bored quite often if the activity they are engaging in is not their creation or when it involves continuously sitting or even when it requires lengthy listening. It is interesting how easily people loose concentration and start scribbling on papers and available surfaces-making diagrams difficult to comprehend or that are hardly communicating, passing notes, whispering in others' ears (a sure sign of boredom) consequently causing interruption of thought for those who could be keenly following the person on stage or maybe forcing themselves to catch a point or two. The annoying lot will either stare blankly or practically place the heads on the table and go wild in their imagination; never mind the cause...though it could be a result of hunger, anger, disinterest-dare try bring them back to the present, it may turn out to be an ice breaker.

Every group of people has characters who each play a vital role in ensuring balance in the activities being conducted. There are the serious people, the joke crackers also known as ice breakers, there are the force-good-character or I want-to-appear-the-best-of-all people, the timers, the list can be endless depending on the type of people you meet. The serious people stick to the business of the day, joke crackers will throw in a joke or cause the rest to laugh by behaving cheeky amidst a serious issue happening therefore restoring a relaxed atmosphere-these are the type who will yawn loudly amidst silence in the room, I want-to-appear-the-best-of-all people do exactly that.

And now the timers.

Realise with the group listed a session can go for hours on end, consuming into other sessions' time and entirely disrupting the flow of events. What timers will do is ensure programmes run as planned, not that they have been appointed to do so but because it is in them and don't be good and want to tell them off. Actually we need them. When time for listening is out and it is question time, they will shout or whisper 'question time', when time for a whole event is out, they will be keen to pass word 'time up'. Notably, they start the alerts 5,4,3 minutes to time. When it's time to break for Lunch, they will scribble on paper cuttings 'lunch' or '12:54pm' and pass the cut outs round. As the cuttings go round, the speaker will accidentally note them and get the message. Some timers are bold enough to shout out-hunger, break, tired, and the like.

Truth is they play a necessary role. Those staring blankly and wondering when the session will end will be the first ones to sigh in relief once the timers manage to drive a point home. The scribblers get a chance to  give their pen a break, the serious ones will simply be complying. Well, the world has a way of accommodating every character trait.

Decide

Whatever you want to do with your life, steer it

What activity do you want to use most your time engaging in?

What do you want to do with that time that you are not too occupied-also known as free time?

What do you want to do with your friends, what significance do you want them to have in your life?

How do you want to react when someone crosses your line?

Would you prefer to use too much energy getting angry when you can save it for a better course by correcting a person who wrongs you?

Do you want to be a provider or a dependant?

Do you want to be a problem source or a problem solver? 
Would want to be the leader or the led?
Do you want to make decisions or to implement decisions made?

Decide.

Moment with the Creator

Going through the activities that characterize the life of human beings and also which are different for each individual, it is allowable for one to pause and think; just how did it all start?

A news reporter will wake up each day, having an event in mind to cover or ready to get to office and find an assignment waiting for them; a teacher, with a new topic to cover that day or may be determined to make a concept that didn’t find its way into the students’ brain sink; a mason, with the client’s assignment in mind or probably determined to nail a new contract that day; a serious student, ready to grasp a new concept for the day and probably for the future.

The various events that we all wake up to are bred nowhere else, but in our brains. In our minds. The brain is a powerful asset.

What if one wakes up one day and decides enough is enough with these life hassles, then sits and waits for the day to end then another and another! Do not imagine this because it is the most boring experience, any culprit would concur.

Life can be overwhelming, the ventures that people go into are at times enough to make them forget some aspects of their life; that people are social beings; that people are forgetful and this amounts to negligence; that people are religious if not superstitious; that people are not like wild animals- wild animals are of different kinds, some are marine while others are terrestrial, unlike human beings that are terrestrial, they only turn marine on improvised survival means. The responsibilities that people wake up to are too many that at times they- as dedicated and overburdened mothers would say- ‘forget themselves’.

Forgetting oneself here includes forgetting the ‘God element’ that is a characteristic of every man, I mean human being. Forgetting oneself also includes being unaware of what impact one has to those around them and vice versa.

People and especially Africans are notoriously religious-it has been said. There is a great element of truth here. Now, this takes me back to the County edition that NTV Kenya has been showing for quite a while. The different counties in Kenya are demarcated mostly on the bases of culture or rather peoples’ background. A common feature of many societies that were shown was the distinctive ancient believes that people living in the various localities held/hold.

There was this edition in Namatunga, Turkana County where they showed stones piled up in one place, all of different sizes and shapes, arranged not in any specific manner. The dwellers there believe they are remnants of people who failed to obey; as a result they turned into stones. The ground there was regarded as holy-place of worship. From the difference in height and width of the stones, I could imagine they were people of different sizes; some slim, others plumb, some short, others tall. The small stones, well, maybe they were the toddlers who were accompanying their parents but when the punishment -read capital punishment, like Troy Davis’- struck, they too fell culprits.

What happened those days as is written, in the Bible about Sodom and Gomorrah! When Lot’s wife turned back to look at the city, she turned into a pillar of salt.

The two stories depict the aftermath of what people believe in or rather, that people will attribute certain happenings to a supreme being, which is okey and it keeps people moving, it makes people stick to upright modes of behaviour, it makes people keep up good deeds, it helps protect the ‘weaklings’ from the adversities of the ‘powerful’.

Now, moment with the creator; it is a worth concern to take a break from the usual do’s and acknowledge the creator/ God/ the Supremacy at any given time. Many times one will only remember or better phrased, be prompted to mention the name God or Jesus when in trouble and occasionally unnecessarily!

It is easy to spend a whole day chatting with friends and catching up but rarely does one give even a single minute to acknowledge God, just to be thankful, let alone ask for guidance. But worship is here to stay; from the efforts different religions are giving to establish modern prayer facilities. A visit to the ‘Resurrection Garden’ in Karen perfectly demonstrates this. The modern touch given to this place of worship is just encouraging, it puts you in a Godly mood; you just don’t talk anyhow unless you are talking to your God, you just don’t eat anyhow, unless you are partaking the body and blood of Christ, you just don’t loiter, the message of God inscribed on well cut walls amidst perfectly manicured vegetation will call you to stand, read and reflect.

I would call it preservation of heritage. Though the Bible content doesn’t change, it is quite a good effort to deliver the same message but through different avenues. A moment with the creator. Take time and pray; take time alone, or with others, to be with your creator. Our ancestors did it. It is a way of life that has stood the test of time, others come and go but this one is here to stay.

Why the name…

We call it Majazi in Swahili, but what is it in English? Someone?

Places, people, events, add to the list if you like, have names that mean or refer to something/place/situation. Nairobi for instance, Enkare Nyirobi-the place of cool waters.  Earlier on I wrote an article, Dusk, yet path tracking, that highlighted some place my friends and I visited and the names have a significance i.e. can be traced to something tangible.

That aside.

I have recently been to Mutuni. Guess how the name came up? But first the translation, for my brothers and sisters who didn’t originate from Nzaui hill, is the place of flour.

One time Long ago, the rains failed, the vegetation dried up and the food that had been stored up for consumption was all exhausted. There was no activity since, most work in this place was tilling the land and with rains not showing up, idleness prevailed. The situation was bad especially for those who believe no work no feeding.

The long distant travelers, unlike nomadic pastoralists who wander in search of green pasture and water, wandered in search of human food and drinking water. During this time the colonialists and missionaries were setting base in Kenya and since they entered through the coast, this place that lies in the south eastern Kenya was among the first to receive the ‘Men of the Bible’.

Their major challenge was to find and win African people from that area into Christianity, and to overcome this they had a strategy. Giving out cooking flour to the people. Knowing that there is a means of survival with the white men, the residents would go for the flour once, twice, thrice and in the process, the missionaries would manage to win some of them into their religion.

On their way home from collecting flour, the people some of who had had traveled from very far would get attacked on the way by another lot of white people who had a different motive, slave traders. In the process of battling the attackers, the flour that had been carried for feeding their families back home would pour on the paths and all over the area as others tried to flee and to seek refuge on the trees around during which the flour package would get pricked or torn.

From the continued attacks, the place ended up white from flour spills. Later on, people going to that place started referring to it using the prefix mutu - flour. The generations from the ant hills add the suffix ‘…ni’ to words that are meant to refer to a place:

Noun                                    Place                                    Translation

Mutu                                    Mutuni                                    the place of Flour

Nzuu                                    Nzuuni                                    the place of pigeon peas

Kitheka                                Kithekani                                at the forest

Mukuyu                               Mukuyuni                               the place of sycamore

  

Etymology aka word origin is the the derivation of  a word.

Why do you have the name u call yourself or the name people call you? Sometimes the names are just names; they do not mean anything in particular. And that is in order.

Coming soon:  About naming children; some parents will give their new borns what I would call bad names for a reason.

Spot them, keep off

They roam the estates, villages and open grounds, they belong to no one, they have no place to call home. Their means of survival is only known to them. Some are harmless, others are a don't-pass-near-me-or-else type.

They are the animal kingdom kind of vagabonds. Stray dogs.
The way they walk or behave at any one moment will always pass a message. Some run following a straight course, others run with head down while others will occasionally stop to sniff at the surrounding before resuming their journey with the head still descended.

There is yet another breed, the never-walk-alone type; these ones will be found in groups of three and above, they have a way of communication as once in a while they will stop, look at each other, twist their head in a specific manner and then go back to their mission. Most interesting is that they are on most occasions on the run.

I happened to meet one the other day, it was dusk already and it gave gave me right of passage. Dogs have a strong sense when it comes to their environment; I realised this since my footsteps could hardly be heard yet the dog had already started sniffing around by the time I noticed it. I forgot about it almost immediately, after walking past it, one eye looking at it and the other on the ground where I was headed to.

The neighbourhood has quite a number of dogs but most of them are kept within the confines of the homesteads, they keep the area lively by barking occasionally. A clear indication that any dog walking around is 'strange'.

The following day, as I slowly walk to catch a matatu, out of 'nowhere' emerges the same dog I had encountered the previous day. Actually, I only noticed it when it had already caught hold of my trouser, I must have shouted, am not so certain. One turn around he dog lept and made away stopping severally to look at me, this time I only stood staring at it. So the two of us were scared at each other. 

It didn't bite me but there are two marks of teeth on my trouser just below the knee joint.
I have since become 'dogphobic' and whenever I wear that trouser the marks remind me of the dog.

Some rumour has it that such dogs are more common during the cold season. 

“…it’s a tourists van”

“The first five passengers pay 200/- all others will pay 250/-”

“Yes, Friday morning offer”

“Three are in already. You are fourth, one more and the deal expires”

“And lastly, oh these ones are two so the sixth one is lucky”.

The success of your work will depend largely on how much love you attach to it. Even when the pressure is too much, having the task at heart takes away all the anxiety or rather, your energy will not be siphoned off by the force compelling you to deliver.

Early in the morning, in a town where few people travel upcountry mid week, it calls for tactics or to refer to it in a better term; improvised means to get passengers board one matatu and not the other. On this particular day, the above quoted sentences were from a tout drawing travelers to his vehicle. His method really worked and the journey seemed to be almost starting. The fourteen sitter matatu would start earning the owner the first coins of the day.

I had imagined the times had passed when wooden pieces were placed between two seats in order to create additional sitting space for extra passengers. Three of these were carefully put in place and that meant seventeen passengers, no, eighteen; the tout’s seat too had been occupied and he (tout) had to half seat and half hung on the seat nearer to the door.

It is easier for a passenger to board a vehicle that already has a number of others than one without, this must have been the point the tout was taking into consideration when calling in passengers for an early morning discount. How would you convince the last passenger who boarded the vehicle to pay 20% more than the others? No notice, not even an offer given to them since after the first six passengers nothing of the sort was mentioned.

“Wee ni polisi ya wapi?”-you call yourself a policeman?  the tout responding to a by stander who noticed the state of the vehicle and attempted to stop it.

200/- is the amount each one on board gave out in payment for the two hours journey.

I wasn’t enjoying the situation, being my first time to use this particular route; I wondered how people managed the travel hassle. One hour into the journey, by which time we were already out of urban settlement, the vehicle now had twenty two passengers and the tout at some point signaled the driver to take up extra persons.

His reply to a surprised passenger: “Usijali, hii ni gari ya tourists. Bado kujaa”-don’t you worry, it’s a tourists van. It’s not yet full.

This triggered my memory to go back to an episode that had occurred almost two weeks earlier; a man who had seemed to have taken quite a good deal of substance, also the tout had proudly told three passengers at the back seat to create space for a fourth person, a request they never obliged to. Then he had spoken out loudly; “Ai bwana, hii gari ni ya utalii. Haiwes jaa hifyo tu. Tafadhali songea mtu mmoja. Ni ya tourists”-hey sir, this is a tourism van. it doesn't fill up that easily. Please create place for one person. it's a tourists van.

Our journey would continue with the vehicle picking and dropping passengers several times. The surrounding dry vegetation characterized by grey trees was what I resulted to watching, thinking of how it would be put into meaningful use, just to avoid seeing the drama that was happening in the ‘tourists van’.

So is this love for ones job? Now that the one way journey had earned the vehicle operator quite a good sum of extra coins!

Obey the weather

Seasons are there for a reason, and if you read the bible, the preacher clearly states that there is a time for everything. The seasons; autumn, spring, winter and summer though not utterly distinctive in sub-Saharan Africa are some of the times to move with.

The cold and the hot weather alternate notably and so should the clothes that people wear.

A friend of mine was once lamenting after seeing a lady in really tiny clothes very early in the morning and to worsen the matter it was not a normal morning but a chilly one! Holding onto herself, it was evident that the cold was really 'eating' her up but this notwithstanding she headed for her day's activitity; class. You can never concentrate in class when the prevailing condition is not favourable; this fact is not necessarilly climatic conditions only. 

The kind of dressing also depends on the geographical location; Nyeri, Eldoret, Machakos, Kisumu, just to mention a few are all towns in one country;Kenya but the geographical orientation is quite different. Consequentially, the prevailing weather conditions are varied.

Yvonne, a pal, travelled to Kakamega from Nairobi in the month of June during which Nairobi was comfortably warm, only to find a cold 'Kach' as Kakamega is beautifully referred to as. The journey involved traversing a pretty cold Eldoret. A frequent traveller, as I am aspiring to be, should be well conversant with such differences between geographical divides. 

For light clothing; the warm and hot weather is usually long, and they should be a preserve of such.

It also involves an aspect of caring for one's health when the right clothes are worn during the right climatic conditions.

Too heavy clothes during hot weather are not comfortable at all, in addition to preventing a person from working/moving around freely. 

Ladies are more often accused of missing the point in dressing as compared to men and this one I overheard; 'some are either overdressed or underdressed'.

Just like every comment should be used at the right moment, every piece of clothe should be placed on at the time it is really needed; office wear to where it is required, casual wear where the situation allows, recreational wear when its time and bed time attire as is.

Doing the contary would be tantamount to ashaming Clothes designers who have reasons for coming up with the cuts they give each clothe. Let us take care of our health and general well being by obeying the weather.

Don't freeze when you can be comfortable in available and easily accessible warm clothes neither melt in huge/heavy unnecessary clothes when you can move around freely in climatically befitting light clothes. 

The cold season is here with us, have it smooth!

Got stuck in traffic?

Waiting is to me one of the most tiresome situations (without mentioning others) one can find themselves in; waiting for whatever thing especially when the waiting entails ‘eating up’ another activity’s time. 
Commuting in Nairobi is one of those tiresome moments that I have experienced and the consequences are worth noting, it is more discouraging when you find yourself caught in traffic in the morning; the other day I was in a Matatu at 6.55 am and noted that only two people out of 15 were awake (the driver and I). The others having got tired of staring at vehicles literally packed on the road for close to 30 minutes, the time it should have taken them from their homes to work but now it all lapsed while seated in vehicles that weren’t moving. Reason; traffic jam.

One thing, you get so tired that when you get to work you got to take a rest before starting the day’s work.

Two, it makes your morning a dull one and yet it takes energy to rejuvenate a dull spirit especially in the morning.

Three, the body system is strained since there is too much emission of carbon dioxide therefore its concentration inside vehicles as well as heat coming from the ignited motor vehicles. It is worse if you sit close to a person who insists on having the vehicle’s window being closed.

Four, you get late for the activity that you were up to. Lateness and anxiety are twins and so you may end up messing up things.

I have noted that there is a particular time of the month when private cars are very few on the roads and during such, travelling gets interesting. Or travelling is less hectic.

The last week of June and the first week of July 2011 are perfect examples of the other side of the travel experience; commuters had it rough. Every private car in homes in Nairobi and its environs must have been released into the road. Calling the roads leading to the CBD a parking as was fondly referred to at that time is a lesser term.

'The temporary parking'

At such time, Commuters in PSVs resulted to walking and the Slogan ‘city walk, walk with style’ would perfectly fit them, too unfortunate to motorists on private cars because they couldn’t leave their cars and walk to their destinations.

What would you do if you were the minister for transport in Kenya?

 The more the expansion of roads, the more new cars are getting into the roads. So traffic jam is here to stay?

Headed for the CBD

If I were to become the name in Charge of transport, only Public Service Vehicles would gain access to the Central Business District.

The capital city should not be the name in people’s mouths for the wrong reason.

Dustbins, Matatus, the Environment!

There is this one time that I travelled alongside other students while in high school and since the journey was a long one, we had carried snacks with us. Just for thought, what do you think of when you see someone throw trash out of a vehicle window? Or even under their seat?

The inside of a vehicle is too small a space compared to the outside and yet while one is within the confines of the vehicle, the outside becomes like a thing of the past. Less is cared about it.

Often fruit peels are discarded through windows in moving vehicles, snack wrappers as well and if you happen to use roads where maize is roasted along the road, maize cobs also follow the same route.

The impact: I stay in a place where Maasai cattle cross the road more often than not and the nature of cattle is to walk as they eat or better still eat as they walk. This means chances of picking a polythene wrapper that was disposed irresponsibly are quite high and the aftermath, loss of a once healthy cow due to indigestion.

Pedestrians have their right of passage and to pass on roads that have not been used as garbage sites. A banana peel on the side of the road is more than enough to dangerously bring down a 90kg person.

Now to the environment in general; a single polythene bag or any other sort of wrapper in the midst of vegetation already makes that place unattractive. Undisturbed natural/artificial vegetation is good ‘food’ for the eye and should be taken good care of; what amount of cost is associated with it? Almost none.

Back to Matatus now, public service vehicles can be quite uncomfortable to travel in especially when those operating them care less about the cleanliness of the vehicle. Quite often will you board a mat and just as you try to make yourself comfortable your feet are greeted by some rubbish, more especially snack wrappers, thrown at the leg space. Irritating, isn’t it?

So recently I have made this observation which to some extend has really caught my attention. At least a dustbin in the several matatus that I have boarded. It has happened after a directive from National Environmental Management Authority (NEMA) in February to have all PSVs fitted with such. This means that whatever rubbish a passenger wants to dispose, it should be into the dustbin and not through the window. Kudos to these people whom we will ever need since we can’t all own personal vehicles.

It is quite ideal for people like me, yes me! Who carry with them used juice, water, or snack containers until they have found a dustbin long after alighting. Now that will be finding way into these strategically located dustbins in PSVs. (Send me a shout out if you have spotted them).

But there is another issue, there are some people who are so resistant to change and even with the presence of these dustbins they will still be pushing open vehicle windows and off goes the rubbish. It’s even worse if one is discarding a used chewing gum. What if it lands into another motorist’s vehicle that had the windows open? What if a pedestrian steps onto it and it sticks on to their shoe? What if? What if? ….

So about the journey we made while still in high school and several others, we ended up collecting all the trash that had been thrown all over the floor of the bus just to leave it clean. Then it crosses my mind that if we had a dustbin in the bus during our day long tour, we would have had it easier just carrying the dustbin and emptying it into the rubbish pit.

Enjoy trashless travel!

Dusk, yet path tracking

The beauty of an expedition is discovering new places, things, ideas, et al. and this particular one was no exception. With a group of similar minded pals, we set off to a ‘town’ in the other side of the physical divide at around 6.00 pm. After around 30 minutes of walking, the destination started being defined by spots of light from the institution where we were to spent the night, it came to my realization that dusk sets early in this part of the country. 

Since the majority of us were new to this place, we were taking time admiring sites that we came along, enquiring about others and occasionally stopping to laugh at a joke that would be cracked by some of our ice breaking fond companions. Our hosts to this place were some friendly chaps who happened to be our age mates though from different campuses, we being from the same campus.

The area MP here is a popular man and we happen to spot his home across the road, a beautiful homestead. Generally this place is beautiful and on enquiry I’m told that the village goes by the name mutunduni.

Soon it was dark and having opted to follow a path rather than the road that would have been a longer route, our senses had to concentrate on where we stepped to avoid sliding or even falling on the path that was characterized by granulated stones. Once you slide on such a ground the next step is nursing a bruised elbow, arm, knee or leg. 

Though we were assured by the residents that the vegetated land surrounding the path was safe and free from dangerous wild animals, our ears were also keen incase of any noise that came from the somehow forested land. This particular place is known as Kithekani; I must have laughed at the name, well it literally means ‘in the forest’ and Nicoh, who is more at home with this place, tells us that it is well known for the local brew; kaluvu.

Hills and valleys is a correct description of the place, Makueni for that matter, once we followed a path only to hit a dead end. The land in front of us covered with sugarcane and veggies in addition to being swampy, and the aftermath; backtracking thus avoiding jumping over fences where we would encounter hostile owners or more often ‘mbwa kali’. At another incident we walked down the hill and at the bottom was a gulley, with running water. It was dark then and our ‘mulika mwizis’ weren’t strong enough to light the bottom of the gulley just to establish its depth. 

Thank goodness for our daring friend Lennie; he set down the gulley and soon he got to the bottom. “You need to have your shoes off to cross over” is what he told us.  The thought of stepping on cold water was not that welcome but we had to do it because the alternative was going back to the option we left out; the road. Shoes and socks off and for some ladies it was much easier as they just waded through the water with their much embraced sandals; they come in handy on such occasions.

There is a common saying that when you ask a Kamba for direction and they tell you; ‘no vaa’-‘ni hapa tu’-‘its almost here’, get ready for an unexpectedly long distance. Of course we never considered this when we asked how far it was before starting the journey. The land was now moonlit and the open land before us gave us some bit of encouragement, this was however short lived; two paths leading to different directions and we had to use our instincts and sense of direction to decide which one to follow. 

Apparently our colleagues from this part never use this path yet we opted to use it, so we braced ourselves for another adventurous encounter. This entailed walking with bended backs through thicket that formed a canopy over our heads. You made it easily if you had someone following you to push you up.

8.00 pm. We occasionally stop to ensure each one of us is present. Soon after, another shock; it dawns on us that this path stopped being used long time ago after the land owner decided to fence it all round. The idea of going back was not an option; we sat. Some Nicoh and Pato try to survey the fence to see if there could be any indication of an opening or even a weak portion of the fence through which we could jump over, all in vain. 

At a distance is another path that a villager, whom I didn’t make out wherever he emerged from, indicates to us. He has some dogs following him and must have heard us in the thicket and decided to find out what was happening. Thank goodness for such caring people. But following this route would mean a whole hour of walking.

Some dogs were at this time barking bitterly from the homestead of this land’s owner. Of course something unusual to them was happening. Just before we embark on the 1 hour walk, there is the noise of something like a gate being opened and to our relief; there was a gate on one side of the fence that we hadn’t noticed. The owner might have heard us and too came to find out. This land was used for grazing his animals and had been secured with the fence to prevent trespassers ‘like us’ from trampling on the vegetation. He saved us from a one hour walk and we got to our destination in the next 10 minutes.

And that was a 30 minute walk turned a 3 hour path finding session.

I have realized that most places we traversed in this area are named after trees/plants, for instance mukuyuni, Nguyu, Itoo, nzuuni, all these are names of indeginous trees here and I just don’t know them by any other name. Well, Nzuu means pegion peas.

And for the whole journey, thanks to Nicoh, who hails from Nzuuni. And Kudos to this group back in campus fondly known as MAKDSA.

I was scared throughout the journey that I didn’t remember I had a camera in my bag. So no photos from that night's experience. The one above is from another day out.

Have an adventurous outing!

Wonders of a silent land

There is a common saying in my language that translates to “whoever does not leave his/her home always says that their mother cooks the best”. True you must concur with me, well I have had Eldoret as my home for quite some time and I have loved it. 

It is a place where you will wake up and sigh at the expansive pieces of land which are quite beautiful especially when covered by green wheat or maize. The Eldoret South is in context here. Some hills are notable from a distance and I once heard from a friend that when wind blows towards them (Nandi hills), expect no rain and this statement put me into task to find out. Whether the assertion is true, the residents know better.

To give me a chance to taste what other ‘pots’ brew and avoid being a victim of the saying above, I love  going places and courtesy of likeminded persons, I have visited a few places one of them being Kitale. One thing that I am cautious to look at is the nature of homesteads that people in different parts of the country put up. I don’t compare, just to appreciate diversity. And from the observation over time, I have noticed that it’s very likely to find a person living in a mud house or a grass thatched house yet own a very powerful car. Well, my lecturer in first year taught us about culture shock and as a result I could manage this one. Enough of that for now.

Kitale is a land well known for growing maize, a bit of similarity with Eldoret. But there are other sites which I doubt whether are much visited by locals/Kenyans, The Kapenguria Museum being one of them. From the knowledge of history that I have, I know Kapenguria is an administrative town and was more vibrant during the colonial era. Located near Makutano  town, it has no much activity as makutano serves as the commercial town. 

Kapenguria museum tells the history of the well known fighters for the Kenyan independence and what characterizes the small piece of land that houses the museum are the cells in which the freedom fighters were locked in, six in number for each one of them (the Kapenguria six). The cells are quite small but enough to allow one to sit at whichever corner but could only allow them to lie down/ sleep lengthwise; the room width is just too small.

There is also a gallery that being in Pokot land, holds artifacts that were used and some of them are still being used by the locals. A typical setting of a Pokot homestead (Agricultural Pokot homestead) is also at home here; four huts; one for the Man of the home, one for the first wife, one for the second wife, one for the boys’ and oops! I didn’t find out where the girls slept. Will found out the next time I visit, I hope to.

There is more to learn in this museum that if put down here would amount to a history class which I’m less interested in. Another part of this wonderful land is a setting that gives you a type of treat you would call ‘three in one’. The Kitale Nature Conservancy (KNC) is a home for disabled or if I could use another word physically challenged animals. I had not heard of such before I visited this place but I must appreciate whoever came up with the idea. 


Here you will find cows, sheep, donkeys, goats and the like walking in three legs; some of them can’t walk at all so they feed from the ground; shorter forelegs than the hind legs or the vice versa; deformed mouth or eye. It’s like an orphanage for such. The deformities are quite a number and though they are not people, I couldn’t help sympathizing with the animals. Would you eat meat you know is from a deformed animal?

Deformed calf

The second part of the ‘three in one’ is the beautifully laid down ground where you can have a walk or picnic admiring the artificially set up tourist attraction site. With winding paths through overhead hanging vegetation the site is an example of brains put into use. On one side are mounded sculptures that altogether tell biblical stories from both the New and the Old Testament. 

Stories with a mountainous setting are put up as so, as well as those told from plains and rivers. There is this sculpture of the transfiguration that caught my attention; three disciples shocked and the transfigured Christ somewhere higher above them, of course with Moses and Elijah at his sides…

And finally, the tourists to this place got a stomach. It’s not common to tour and not to eat and the restaurant here is strategically located such that you ought to think of food whenever you are entering or leaving. Having noted it during our entry, we had decided we would too have a share of the nyamchom they offer. Several other people were also treating themselves to the same.

And oh! If it were not for darkness setting in, there was more to enjoy from this area!

Hi! my name is Judy and this is my blog.