A Trip To Kajiado

Wednesday 7 July 2010

We had to take Esther, the girl we re-homed from Maasailand to Kisii, to court in Kajiado to give evidence in the case against her former employer for employment of a minor. As the trip is almost 400 km and there is no direct transport, we hired a car.

We left Kisii at about 6am and made good time to Narok, where we stopped for breakfast.

We sailed through Nairobi, comparatively speaking, hitting only minor jams and soon we were at Athi River. This is where the trip got complicated. The main road had been slightly re-routed, but the road to Kajiado only joined the old road, so we missed it – several times.

Eventually we found a road and we were on our way again, but we were too late for the court case, when was adjourned. Not wanting the trip to be totally wasted, we visited the Kajiado Children’s Home, where Esther had stayed for her time in Maasailand. It is a wonderful establishment, but all the children are Maasai and of course, Esther is Gusii.

I learned something during our visit, when greeting a Maasai child; you place your hand on their head. They even bow their heads forward so accept this greeting – cute.

Before leaving Kajiado town, we called in at a bank to pick up the money I had arranged to be sent to me from the UK to fund the trip and other things.

Outside Athi River, we found a good eating house and ate excellent nyama choma, chips and a coke. It was superb. Vincent was especially pleased as they played Kenny Rogers CDs while we were there.

On the road again and we hit Nairobi at rush hour – and got lost. WE went round and round and eventually found the Uhuru Highway that would lead us to the junction we wanted for Narok. As we climbed the escarpment, we ran into mist and rain, and we missed the turning we needed to go to Narok.

After a quick discussion, we decided to continue on to Nakuru, through Kericho and then to Kisii. It is a good road for most of the way and with the weather threatening to close in, it seemed a good option.

As it happened, as we descended into the Rift Valley, the weather cleared and we made good progress and soon reached Nakuru.

But about 30 km outside Nakuru, in a small village, as we approached the brow of a hill, two sets of headlights appeared in front of us two vehicles side by side.

There was nowhere to go to the left, just a steep embankment, nowhere to go straight ahead other than a head-on collision, so I veered to the right, hoping to find a way past the two oncoming vehicles. I didn’t.

When I came round, we were stationery, the windscreen was a mess and the airbags had deployed. But Vincent was not in the car next to me. There was a lot of shouting in Swahili and I saw that there were twenty or thirty men gathered round, some trying to get me out of the car. I could feel hands in my pockets. They were not my hands. When I stood up, my legs were not my own, I could barely think, but I was aware that my pockets were empty, my recently drawn money, passport, wallet, cell phone, even the loose change. But I wanted to find Vincent, and I remembered that there had been someone else in the car, but who?

Vincent was on the ground next to the car. He had a nasty gash on his forehead and he told me that his leg was broken – this was an understatement. Esther was, of course the other passenger and I found her being comforted by two women.

I went back to the car and borrowed a torch as mine was missing. The briefcase was not in the car, but this was of little consequence. The satnav was also missing. I looked for anything that belonged to any of us, but there was nothing as far as I could see.

We had been cleaned out.

A man who stated that he was a policeman kept telling me that this was a bad community, in other words, don’t make a fuss. He then handed me my video camera bag. I looked in it and the camera was still there, with all the DVDs. I was thankful for that.

A coach stopped and the three of us were bundled aboard and not too long after, we were at Nakuru hospital.

We were taken to casualty and Vincent was whisked off to x-ray. Esther was examined as was I. I was so lucky. I had nothing but cuts. Bruises and sprains as far as they could tell. I refused x-rays for my shoulder. I knew it wasn’t broken. It was painful but not painful enough, so I was discharged. ‘Where was I going to stay?’ I was asked. I explained that we were destitute, so they offered me a bed in an ante room, for which I was grateful.

I managed to borrow a phone and called Abigael, Vincent’s wife and she told me that she would come to Nakuru but the credit ran out before we could say more.

I slept and had nightmares. When I awoke, I went over and over the accident in my mind, but it did not become any clearer.

I must have slept some more because I was woken up by a member of staff, possibly a junior doctor. I was taken to see Vincent and then Esther. I went back to Vincent when Abigael walked into the ward. I was so relieved to see an able-bodied friendly face.

A Gentle Drive to Kenya?

The dream of a "gentle" drive from home in the UK, through Europe, Asia, and some of Africa to home in Kenya, a total of about 6,500 miles.

When I returned from South Africa, I wanted to go back. I wanted to drive the length of Africa. That was my dream.

Since my first visit to Kenya, I have dreamed of driving there one day - not in my present vehicle as I doubt it would get to Dover - but in a suitable conveyance, an old Landrover 110, for example.

Then, this Christmas, I got a Garmin GPS, into which I can enter Long/Lat. coordinates, so I did. I entered the coordinates for the Junction in Kisii and lo! A map popped up of the Junction in Kisii - brilliant.

So I told the Garmin to calculate the route from my home in the UK to Kisii, and it did, giving a distance of 6,497.2 miles. I love the .2 miles, how accurate is that? And I will arrive at 23:03 if I leave now. It doesn't tell me which day though, just the time.

So, could I do the trip, or will it remain a dream? Frankly, the logistics frighten me more than the trip itself, but then, I get nervous flying out to Kenya, and let's face it, when flying, virtually everything is done for me! It's not like I have to fly the plane. Actually, I wouldn't mind giving it a go, but I would need a navigator, unless I could fly low enough to pick out landmarks.

I had imagined getting sponsorship to cover the trip expenses and make some money for Twiga and KCIS, but people have done the whole of Africa, so a trip to Kenya is a bit tame really. Would I get sponsorship?

And then there's the vehicle. I don't have the funds to buy even the oldest and tattiest of 4x4s, let alone all the kit I would need en route.

I have just realised that I am being very negative, which is not allowed in my New Year's resolution.

So, keeping a positive frame of mind, of course I could do it, of course I can get a suitable vehicle, of course I can get sponsorship.

So, how long would it take, driving through Europe, around the eastern edge of the Mediterranean and then following the Nile (roughly)? 6,500 miles, 8 hours driving a day, at an average speed of ... 15? 20?

I reckon that driving every day, it would take about 54 days or nearly 8 weeks, almost 2 months.

I also reckon we would need about 800 gallons of fuel. At present UK prices, that alone would cost almost £1,000 - wow! That's two return trips to Nairobi by air (off-season, of course).

Next question, could I find someone who could put up with a grumpy old man to accompany me? How about a Kenyan wanting to return home from Europe? I might learn a bit more Swahili on the trip.

I have come to the conclusion that I don't have a clue about how to plan a trip like this, let alone have the ability to raise the money to put it into action.

So, if there is anyone reading this who has a fantasy of driving through Europe to Kenya, get in touch. Add a little reality to my dream.

Driving in Kenya

The first thing anyone asks me is what side of the road Kenyans drive on.

Well ... I am no expert, but I have covered a few thousand kilometres on my various visits to Kenya, so here goes.

Officially, Kenya drives on the left, like the UK, but unlike the UK, this rule has conditions, like which side has the fewest potholes, least traffic, fewest pedestrians, cyclists, other obstructions. That is the side you (or at least, they) drive on. Oncoming traffic is not a consideration. Flash your headlights, sound your horn … and go!

On occasion, where the road is in a very bad state of repair, you may will be overtaken by matatus driving along the verge. Marvel at how they miss the pedestrians.

Traffic lights – these work the same way as in the UK, when they work at all, the difference being that no one takes any notice of them, even the Police, who may wave you on against a red light.

Note: Arm signals from the police are not the same as in the UK. For a start, the officer will rarely stand in the middle of the road, he values his life too much. So he will stand on the edge of the road and wave at you. Don’t wave back, just go. If it is raining, the police officer will be hampered by his umbrella, so take extra care. He may not be waving you on, but just clearing excess water from his umbrella.

Whilst on the subject of the police, when driving, you are likely to come across a lot of roadblocks, comprising a hand-written ‘STOP’ sign and then two metal strips with 6” spikes in the road. At night, they may be illuminated – or not.

These roadblocks are manned by several officers carrying AK47 assault rifles and are there to catch drivers without licences, un-roadworthy vehicles, etc. for which an on-the-spot bribe fine is levied. The offender is then allowed to go on his way.

You may find several roadblocks in the space of a couple of kilometres, especially towards the end of the month, just before pay day.

Direction indicators. Where these are fitted to a vehicle and working (which is not always the case), they are used to indicate that the vehicle is about to turn left or right – perfectly normal.

A slow vehicle may use them to indicate that it is/is not safe to overtake it (right indicator = not safe; left indicator = safe to pass). Don’t blindly take the driver’s word for it. He does not know how powerful your vehicle is, or how hard you are willing to gun it.

Rear lights. These are compulsory, which means that about 50% of vehicles have them with at least one bulb working. Matatu, motorcycle and bicycle drivers think they are exempt from having working rear lights, or brake lights, come to think of it.

So if you are thinking about driving at night, a word of advice - don’t!

Roundabouts. The rule is if you are on the roundabout, you have right of way. No one follows this rule. The unwritten rule is, if you are bigger/braver/suicidal, you have right of way.

Motorbikes. These are indestructible and the riders are immortal. They will be driven anywhere on the road to avoid actually having to stop.

Matatus. See motorbikes. Also, expect a matatu to stop in the middle of the road without warning in order to disgorge or pick up passengers. Have patience, the poor guy is only trying to make a living and he doesn’t care if his passengers are mown down when they get out. After all, they have already paid.