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!