Kenya Trip May 2009 - next bit

29/5/09 Friday

We had had no rain for over 24 hours although there were a few threats, but yesterday evening, the “drought” ended with a vengeance. We were dashing around looking for buckets and bowls to catch the rain, when there was a flash of a nearby lightning strike and the lights went out. The thunder was so loud that I was startled and dropped a bucket of precious water.

I need not have worried; more than enough fell to fill everything we could find and replace that which I had dropped. So the porch floor got a good wash.

It was not the most violent storm I have ever seen, but it was spectacular, with lightning on three sides, lighting up the valley and beyond.

At the height of the storm and blackout, the water for my shower was ready. It was the first time I have washed in total darkness interrupted by blinding flashes. Luckily I have had my body for a fair number of years and know where all the parts are.

However, I was washing in a wet room with a squat toilet and was aware that I could fall in if I put a foot wrong.

In the event, I survived. The storm abated after a long while, but there was still lightning in the distance, well into the evening.

-oOo-

I learned a lesson yesterday evening. Do not let kids with sticky or sugary fingers use my laptop. When the power came on, I eventually got around to switching on the computer and dozens of tiny ants popped out from under the keyboard keys. They had obviously been attracted by the sugary deposits left by little fingers. I really don’t fancy stripping down the keyboard to remove loads of squashed ant carcasses so I hope that they are agile enough to get out of the way when I press a key!

30/5/09 Saturday

We got up to the plot to find about 12 kids waiting for us. The rest, who have to walk quite a distance were worried about getting caught in the rain.

First things first, we examined the seed bed and were delighted to see a lot of seedlings looking for light.

So, with this resounding success, we set about making a fence to keep out chickens and any other stray animals. Believe me, when the kids had finished, an elephant would have found it hard to eat our crops. As we had had a butternut squash the previous evening, we took the seed to the plot to plant as see if anything happens.

It was a lot of hard work, mainly for the boys, who finished off with a thorn barrier, so we returned to the hut and had a few games, giant hoopla using hoola hoops seemed to be the most popular.

We broke up just before 6pm, after our new flag lowering ceremony. I started this as a laugh, but the kids take it very seriously – well, most do.

There are one or two who make merry of just about anything, and also like to tease the mzungu, but it is all very good natured. I couldn’t imagine anything else from any of them.

31/5/09 Sunday

My last day at Twiga, for a while at least, and it had rained before we got there. This limited our activities as I didn’t want the kids rolling around on wet grass, although I am sure they would not have minded.

But first, we checked the “stockade”, which was still intact.

We had stopped on the way to Twiga to pick up cream for one of the children who has a severe ringworm problem. This was given to her older brother to administer, with strict and detailed instructions. I am sure he will manage. He may be only 13, but he is a very responsible kid.

After a few games we sat in the hut and Vincent and I told the kids in detail our plans for Twiga, the extended building to house them, admin block, washing, cooking and leisure facilities and asked for ideas from the children. The discussion was lively. After all, we were discussing the kids’ futures.

Then came the time to leave. It was long and drawn out with much hand-shaking and high fives being repeated over and over.

The kids started to walk to the road with us although most live in the opposite direction.

Fortunately, in a way, we were offered a lift in a car, which meant that we did not have to go through all the handshakes and high fives again. For me, it was painful enough the first time around.

Tomorrow will be packing and getting ready for a 14 hour coach trip across the country for the Coast.

Fourteen hours – I am really looking forward to that.

1/6/09 Monday

A morning of gathering my belongings and packing. As I had come with a load of donated clothes, which of course I no longer had, I found myself with two bags where one would do, so I put my computer and other delicates in the back-pack and put that inside my suitcase.

Proceedings were interrupted when two local kids decided to have a closer look at this weird beast called a mzungu. One child was deaf and the other, who could sign, translated for him, although his English was not too good.

I showed them a couple of “tricks” and took their photographs, which delighted them, then got back to packing, washing and eating.

I had to get to the bus stage by 14:15, which meant leaving the house at 13:45. At 13:40, the heavens opened. This was no shower, it was a downpour, making the tracks that we were about to use as slippery as melting ice. I was not looking forward to my last trek up the hill. But the ever-resourceful Vincent took me by a different route, longer but less steep and I managed to get to the road without falling over – not even once.

As we reached the road, we were flashed by a taxi and we took it to the stage.
Naturally, although we were on time, the coach wasn’t. I deposited my luggage and we set off for Tuskys, a local supermarket, and bought a few things to munch on during the journey.

A quick cup of tea and a samosa each and I was boarding the bus.

It was smaller than the others I have travelled on and I found that I was wider than my seat! Legroom was not overly generous either and I wondered just how my various failing limbs would put up with these cramped conditions.

Luckily, the person in the next seat was slim.

We set off only 15 minutes late, which is not bad, but I had not reckoned on the Pastor.

This little lady boarded the bus and as soon as we were out of the stage, she started praying in a loud, strident, passionate voice – in Swahili. I know she was praying for us because I heard the words Mungu (God) and Amen from time to time.

Her prayers went on for 30 minutes, non-stop, her voice not faltering once. Then she went up and down the aisles for donations. I thought that was the end of it, but no.
Her companion then started offering Bibles for sale. As most Christian Kenyans have at least one Bible, he did not have many takers.

At last, they got off the coach and I settled down to some quiet sight-seeing. How deluded can you get?

A man boarded the bus and started to extol the virtues of various creams and potions he had for sale.

“It has aloe vera, avocado and cucumber. It is so good for the skin.”

My skin is beyond redemption, so I tried to block him out of my hearing.

Our first scheduled stop was at Narok. We had passed through scorching heat and torrential rain, but thankfully, although it was dark, the weather was kind to us during the stop and I was able to fill my lungs with much-needed tobacco smoke.

Up to now, I had not been wearing a jacket of any sort, but took advantage of this stop to put on a lightweight waterproof. When I re-boarded the bus, the woman in the next seat spoke for the first time.

“I thought you did not have a jacket. I wondered how you would survive the night.”
I assured her that I was nice and warm, even without the jacket but thanked her for her concern. That ended the conversation.

Our next stop, at about 11pm was on the outskirts of Nairobi, for petrol and natural bodily functions. I smoked another cigarette.

We also stopped in Nairobi town to drop off and pick up passengers. This procedure is very noisy, especially when chickens are being transported.

2/6/09 Tuesday

At last we set off down the Mombasa road. There is a section which must be the worst of the whole journey. It is rutted, rocky and generally uncomfortable. The coach thought so too and blew the near-side front tyre. All due credit to the driver, we did not even deviate from our course. The driver and his crew piled out and so did some of the passengers, to watch the proceedings.

Realising that I had a torch that may be useful, I eventually got out – and had a cigarette whilst lighting the work area with my small but powerful gadget.

It wasn’t until I had re-boarded and we were on the way again, that I realised that we were in the Tsavo National Park, which is home to all the big cats, rhinos, snakes …

Our next scheduled stop was at the usual service area halfway between Nairobi and Mombasa. Like the stop at Narok, this place is very familiar to me.

Then we were on the last leg. We were late of course, due to the puncture, but as no one was meeting me, it did not matter to me.

After many stops to let people off, we arrived at the coach depot and I recovered my luggage from the hold.

Then every tout in Mombasa descended upon me, offering to carry my luggage, a tuk-tuk, a taxi, or just to relieve me of the price of a cup of coffee (or Tusker).
I declined all offers. I needed time to think. I had to get a matatu to Gede, where Liz would meet me – not a difficult task as long as I could get to wherever the matatus were parked up.

I asked a tuk-tuk driver and he offered to take me for 300/-. As the fare to Malindi is only 250/-, I considered this a bit much.

I was approached by another driver and we got chatting. He was not pushy and very pleasant. It turned out that he was Gusii and I told him that I have just spent two weeks in his homeland. That did it. He said he would take me to Braxton, the matatu stage, for 100/-. I accepted and we set off.

Of course, at Braxton, I was immediately set upon by more touts. I was in a fix as I only had 1000/- notes and the tuk-tuk driver did not have change. One tout, a bit smarter than the rest, paid the fare and said he would add it to the ticket. I was stuck with going on his matatu, which was a good thing as it was the express and he didn’t even try to raise the price of 250/-.

I was quite pleased with myself and climbed aboard. We had to wait until it was full, but it did not take long.

I arrived at Gede about an hour later. By now it was hot, and I found some shade to stand in while I waited for Liz. I didn’t have to wait long, and we set off on the short journey to the house, hot, tired but happy, and quite pleased with myself for travelling the breadth of Kenya with very little help or guidance.

The kids, of course, were at school, so we lazed around and caught up with each other’s news until it was time for them to come home.

Ian has grown – and lost his front teeth with his new ones pushing through. Natasha has lost her “puppy fat” but is as pretty as ever.

Ian can speak and understand English. Natasha has improved a lot and has vowed to speak only English to me. Both kids now call me Uncle David, which, as far as Natasha is concerned is an improvement on “My Mzungu”.

3/6/09 Wednesday

Liz sent the kids to school and went to work. I lazed around for a while before working on the KCIS website, which has a lot of things to be added, and children’s details to be updated – new ones added and old ones deleted.

There is an ant colony under the front step of the house. These are big ants. No, I mean it – BIG!

During the day I noticed that my right knee had swelled up with a series of blisters, which were weeping a nasty yellow liquid. It was getting painful as well. I bathed it and put a dressing on it, but it persisted, so I left it open to the air.

This carried on all day. Liz reckons it is a series of mosquito bites on my knee. I have to believe her, but I have never seen anything like it before.

The ants are scurrying around all day but never seem to come into the house. I watched as a 6 inch worm strayed too close. It was set upon with enthusiasm by the ants and 20 minutes later, there was nothing to show that it had ever existed.

The kids came home at about 4.30pm and I acted the strict parent, change of clothes, tea, homework. It worked pretty well and when Liz arrived home, homework was almost complete.

Ian likes taking photos. He has adopted my digital camera and taken a few good shots, but he gets excited and forgets that there is a delay between pressing the shutter release and the picture being taken, so some are a bit of a blur. Still, he is only seven and has a lot to learn, but if he is interested, I will be happy to show him.

As I was locking up for the night, I came across a millipede, or maybe a centipede. Either way, it was bigger than anything I have seen in this variety of animal. I would guess that it was about 4 inches long and a good ¼ inch diameter. Ian chased it out with a shoe!

4/6/09 Thursday

My knees are still swollen and sore, but not painful. Liz and the kids prepared themselves for the day and I am home alone. At 7am, it was still, calm and cloudy, but already warm – by my standards. At least.

And I have an upset stomach. It has nothing to do with Liz’s cooking, but is more a reaction to the change in climate, altitude and general environment, probably.

Now, the wind has got up and is blowing through the open windows and doors.

We have had two short power cuts this morning, which is forcing me to remember to press Ctrl-S frequently, but I have to be careful as the left Ctrl key doesn’t work.
9.15am. It has started to rain. I had seen people running and wondered why. It is a fine rain and I stood outside in it for a while – bliss. But it is getting heavier, enough to make a noise on the steel roof.

Most of the ants have scurried underground. The rest, if they are not careful will be washed into their nest, like it or not!

-oOo-

I had forgotten about the rent for Liz’s house. I meant to send a message home asking to send me some money yesterday. Oh well, deadline is tomorrow, so I guess I still have time.

It is extortionate. OK, so it has electricity (sometimes) and piped water, which has to be boiled for drinking, one bedroom and a wet room with a shower head and a kitchen with running water.

The rain has stopped and there is a cool but intermittent breeze, nice while it is there. The dust has settled for the time being and everything outside looks fresh. But I doubt that it will last. When it heats up, it will be back to the usual hot, dusty environment. I do not much like Malindi. In fact the only good thing about it is that Liz and the children live here, otherwise I would not come at all – too hot.

Kisii, on the other hand, although closer to the Equator, is more temperate, due to its altitude at about 5,700 feet. But during the rainy season, it rains. Oh, how it rains.

I’m on a bit of a downer at the moment. I am stuck at the house because of my knees hurting when I walk. I am alone here as Liz is at work and the kids are at school. There is very little food. We had a spend-up on Tuesday, but we seem to have used everything in one go.

Eric from Rhino Ark phoned earlier, saying that he had a load of updates for the website and was I on-line. I had to tell him that I had a Safaricom dongle, but that I had run out of credit and could not get any just at the moment.

I texted my friend in the UK, Allan to ask him to ask Mum to send me £150. He said that she would not be very happy about it. I can imagine, but I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it. Anyway, he will sort it out for me. I think that Mum doesn’t like going to the post office and that will be the reason for her being upset.

My next trip to Kenya will be shorter. This is too long, I want to go home. Or I want to go back to Kisii. I was fine until I got here. I find this place depressing. The house is lovely for Liz and the kids, sitting in a large secure, grassy compound with lots of trees, but there is no life here during the day. At least in Kisii, there were people passing along somewhere. There were wild birds to photograph as well. Here, there are just an assortment of insects, chickens and goats!

-oOo-

I have come to the conclusion that if it flies, it bites, if it crawls, it stings.

I noticed earlier that the back on my leg is covered in blood. Well, not covered, but certainly I have bled from something.

Oh for a kettle, a teapot, a fridge, a cooker. Liz has a freezer that she switches on and off to keep the temperature cold without freezing everything to death.

As it is, Liz has a gas burner which is very efficient, but has only one ring. I have to boil water in pots. I have put some boiled water in the freezer for drinking, but it tastes, well, boiled!

I am disillusioned with the Safaricom dongle. It seems to eat credit, but maybe that was Vincent. I will have to keep a firm check on how much I use it.

-oOo-

The kids got home at about 4.30.as usual, changed, had a cup of tea and started their homework.

Natasha just dashes into hers, just wanting to get it finished in the shortest possible time.

Ian takes a more measured approach, reading the questions and giving the answers verbally for me to give my approval. Then he sets about writing them in his book, fairly confident that he has the right answers.

We went into the “garden”, a communal plot with grass and coconut palms and mango trees. Ian was riding his bike and Natasha was just running around. She threw herself at me and I swung her round. That started a whole new game for the two of them and before too long, I was out of breath. That didn’t stop them wanting more, so I threw Ian over my shoulder, let him slide down my back and caught his ankles. This was great fun – apparently – and of course, Natasha had to have a go, several goes, in fact.

Liz came home and set about getting dinner. I was relieved as I had had little to eat today.

The kids were bathed and bedded and we followed soon after, as usual. Bed time for all of us is early as Liz and the kids get up at 5.45.

I slept for a while, but woke up at 1 o’clock, hot, sweaty and not sleepy, so I got up.

I stood on the porch letting the minimal cool breeze wash over me, then had a cold drink.

Then I felt more like sleeping again.

Kenya Trip May 2009 Part 9

28/5/09 Thursday

The matatu – what an inspiration! For the uninitiated, this is a public bus service using minibuses, usually Toyotas, fitted with 14 passenger seats and which often carry up to 20 passengers plus driver and tout (conductor).

One of the good points is that the fare is cheap. From where I am staying to town, about 2km, the fare is 20/-, less than 20p. OK, it is not comfortable, the passenger next to you may be carrying a couple of chickens, or there may be five of you sharing three seats, so if you are not of ample behind, you could find yourself slipping down between seats.

If you are sitting near the sliding door, where the tout hangs on by his fingernails, when someone at the back wants to get out, nearly everyone has to get out!

Obviously, the best seats are the two next to the driver. I foolishly thought that the door was there to hold me in as we careered around right-hand bends. I was wrong. I was there to keep the door shut!

Some of these vehicles are in quite good condition, but the majority are little less than scrap metal on wheels. Note that I said wheels, not tyres.

Then there is the motorcycle taxi. These are prolific in Kisii and are usually Chinese-built 125cc two-stroke machines. They will take one or two (occasionally three) passengers. Fortunately, they cannot go fast, although 40 kph seems it.

Generally, these machines are in better condition than the matatus – maybe that is because they are a more recent phenomenon in town.

Both the above charge about 10/- per kilometre.

-oOo-

It didn’t rain in Kisii yesterday, and although it was damp ad misty when I got up this morning, the sun is now shining, albeit, weakly.

We have not collected rainwater from the roof and so are running short. There is a borehole at the bottom of the hill, but lugging up 50 litre containers, two at the time, is hard work, something that I am not capable of doing, being mildly disabled.

-oOo-

I have just about acclimatized to the altitude and can get up the steep slope to the main road without stopping for breath. It’s a shame I am leaving for Coast on Monday!

It is a shame for another reason. Every time I come to Kisii, I hope to get several projects started. As with last time, I have failed miserably. But at least the kids have cleared the ground and we have sown seed for nine different vegetables.

We sowed a few at the house as well. They have sprouted already and I am worried that in the heat, they will bolt to seed before anyone gets the chance to eat them.

I intend to pop up to the shamba this afternoon to see how the seedlings are doing there. They have been covered with banana leaves since they were sown last Sunday, so it may be time to take the covers off.

I am also thinking about building a wood frame over the seed bed so that we can protect the seedlings from the harshest of the sun by laying banana leaves over them, although the seed bed is fairly well protected by the trees surrounding it, avocados, bananas, mangos and guava, as well as a couple of non fruit-bearing varieties.

I will be sorry to leave Kisii, but at least I have a last weekend up at Twiga, to see these brave kids smiling and laughing, forgetting their hard lives for a couple of hours.

Elf n' Safety

For all its faults, the Kenyan Government cannot be accused of running a nanny state.

If the British Health and Safety police came over here, they would have a heart attack.

During my stay here, I have seen 10 year-old kids wielding machetes with a skill that can only be acquired through years of practice. The same kids use hoes to break up the ground, but could also sever a foot with no problem.

Five year olds coming home from school on the back of motorcycle taxis; their feet cannot reach the footrests, but no matter. As for crash helmets – well, what are they?

Most households cook over charcoal burners and kerosene rings that are either placed outside in the yard or in the porch, where toddlers play.

Here, in Kisii, especially during the rainy season, it doesn’t matter how clean kids start out in the morning, within five minutes, they are muddy up to the knees, they sit in the mud, play in the mud. Chickens use the same mud for foraging, and at night, the neighbourhood dogs scavenge. Other wild animals also pass through the yards.

Amazingly, apart from minor bumps and scratches, which are shrugged off, I have not seen any of the kids I know hurt or injured.

They climb trees, play on waste ground strewn with rubbish, walk alongside fast-flowing rivers, but they survive.

It just makes me wonder where we in the UK are going with our rules and regulations that wrap up the citizens in cotton-wool in case they get hurt.

Kenya Trip May 2009 Part 8

27/5/09 Wednesday

This morning, it is grey and damp after heavy rain last night. But it is early yet and the cloud looks thin enough to quickly burn off once the sun gets warm.
I have planned (once again) to go into town to get my bus ticket to go to coast for about 10 days to see my girlfriend.

I will be very sorry to leave Kisii and not see the Twiga kids until my planned return in about 3 or 4 months, funds permitting.

So far, today has been typically African, as far as I can judge, with people popping in for a chat.

Benta and Josephat are at school, but the two little ones are running around the house making a noise and mess, as small kids do.

I have now updated the Twiga database with Vincent, who keeps 99% of the information in his head.

I am amazed at who is related to whom! I am also astonished at how many of the kids have been abandoned by their widowed fathers who have remarried and moved out of the area, leaving the kids to fend for themselves.
Of course, we have our share of AIDS orphans, or kids with a single parent too sick to look after their children. The age range is from about 3 years to maybe 14 or 15.
We have one teenage girl who has no idea how old she is, although I would guess that she is 15 years old. She has never been to school as she is an epileptic haemophiliac and no school would take the chance on taking her on. She also has a physical disability as her left arm and hand are deformed. I am wondering if it can be made good surgically – if only I could find someone to carry out an examination.

She needs to learn to read, write and speak English. She has a couple of younger siblings who she tries to look after as best she can.

So far, we have been lucky. Apart from little Evelyn (3 years) who was HIV+ and died last year, apart from a couple of cases of malaria, we have not had much in the way of serious illness this last year – I hope I am not talking too soon.

One boy, whose mother deserted the family, went off to find her and when he returned, he was ill, but I think this is partially his state of mind at the moment. His mother is HIV+ and appears to be a little unbalanced. It must be difficult to live with an illness that you know is going to take you sooner of later. At least the boy is back with us so we can care for him.

Next weekend will be my last for a while up at Twiga. I hope that I will be able to report that the seeds have sprouted and that we have a bed full of healthy seedlings. That will please the kids who put in so much hard work last weekend to clear the plot and prepare the soil.

I have another concern. Knowing how, in the UK, snakes tend to nest in compost heaps, we have just started a compost heap on the plot, and we also found a black mamba that had fallen into the unfinished deep-pit latrine. Putting two and two together and probably making five, I am wondering if we are inviting or encouraging snakes onto the plot by composting our waste vegetable matter.

Time will tell, but we must remember to warn the kids about snakes and compost and the like – although I am sure they are more aware than I am.

-oOo-

Well, I have my ticket from Kisii to Mombasa. I leave on Monday afternoon – I can say now, with a heavy heart, but I still have a weekend at the Twiga plot. It will be interesting to see how or even if, the seeds are sprouting. We sowed a few at the house, yesterday and they have sprouted already. Now I fear that they will grow so quickly that they will go to seed before anyone can benefit from them. Time will tell.

Kenya Trip May 2009 Part 7

26/05/09 Tuesday
Last night, it rained as usual, but I was the only adult in the house and it fell to me to put out buckets and bowls to collect the precious rainwater from the gutters. I had seen Vincent do this so was pretty confident in what I was doing, staying under the eaves to get to the furthest collection point. Wrong. The “path” under the eaves was so slippery I nearly took a tumble, so I abandoned all convention and took the safe path in the rain, much to the amusement of Benta, who was helping me.

I had the buckets placed and was pleased with myself, until Benta pointed out that the furthest bucket was already full. So I had to make another trip through the rain to replace it and empty the full bucket into the 100 litre storage barrel. This went on for about 20 minutes during which time I collected over 75 litres of water.

If rainwater is not available, water is collected from a borehole about 400 metres from the house down a very steep path, a trip I would not fancy with two full 25 litre containers.

-oOo-

At the time or writing, I have no great plans for today other than to arrange my passage from SW Kenya to the coast next week. When I was here last year, I saw that there was a coach service that ran directly to Malindi, which would suit me well, especially if it doesn’t go through Nairobi.

-oOo-

Not having found seed trays in the town or markets, I am going to improvise (I hope) by cutting a plastic water bottle in half lengthwise and punching drain holes in the bottom.

I have a packet of cauliflower seeds and Vincent and Abigael have a small vegetable plot adjacent to the house to put them in when they are mature enough to move.

It is raining this morning, not the torrential tropical rain that we have most afternoons, but a fine English autumnal drizzle, almost too fine to feel. There is no real sign of a break in the cloud and I wonder if I am going to experience a British summer day in Kisii!

Vincent and Abigael are taking Benta and Josephat to their schools and left me with their two little ones. This is the first time I have had to look after them without Benta’s help. These little girls do not speak English, although they understand a few words like “STOP”, “DON’T”, but take very little notice of me.

-oOo-

It rained again this afternoon and I spent most of the day working on updating the Twiga kids’ records, and the website.

Kenyan Trip May 2009 Part 6

25/5/09 Monday

Ants the size of small horses, mosquitoes flying in attack formation, flying bugs of every shape and size, things that bite, sting or just annoy, snakes more poisonous than a Brit could ever imagine; showers consisting of a soapy rub-down then a bowl of water tipped over the head, a toilet where you have to squat and hope the aim is good, water that has to be boiled before it is safe to drink, a place where, during the rainy season, nothing is ever really dry, where half the countryside sticks to your boots and gives the impression of walking on sloping ice – why do I love this country?

It’s the people.

Kenyans are the friendliest people I have ever encountered and the Gusii are no exception. OK, maybe people want to ask Habari? because I am white and white people are few and far between in the Kisii district. Maybe it is because I am working for the community in my own small way, but I like to think it is just because they are friendly.

Admittedly, if a child comes to shake my hand, it is probably so that he can boast at school that he shook the hand of a mzungu, but what the heck?

But at least the kids at “home” and at Twiga have accepted me. They do make fun of my colour, but openly, in front of me, including me in their joke. I tell them that I am not white, but the colour of a plucked chicken. But then, they are not black. They are the colour of rich, dark chocolate. As they all like chocolate, that tends to please them and they accept the joke.

I am not alone in finding Kisii a rather grubby, noisy, bustling heaven on earth. I met another Englishman in town today. He is a translator of Scandinavian languages. I just had to ask why he was in Kisii. He simply found it one day, liked it and has been here ever since. I can relate to that. It is said that if you visit Kenya, a little bit of you remains. In the case of Kisii, it is a lot of you that remains.

But it is not for everyone. If you like order, cleanliness, proper pavements, order in your life, Kisii is not for you. If you don’t like corruption around every corner, people trying to rip you off because of your skin colour, Kenya is not for you.

But if you like a happy go lucky, easy-going environment, you could well find that Kenya, or even Kisii could trip your trigger. It certainly has mine!

Kenya Trip May 2009 Part 5

24/5/09 Sunday
Sharing a small bungalow with two other adults, four young children and two chickens has its moments.

Despite being 4,500 miles from the office, I still have an obligation to keep my clients’ websites up to date as well as other work. Today was such a day and I set about modifying a page of such a site.

Unfortunately, the software that I usually use is not installed on my laptop so I had to work in text mode and code, not something I particularly enjoy. I was about 30 minutes into the modification when one of the children switched off the wall socket and my computer went dead.
I was not amused. 30 minutes of the work I dislike disappeared literally at the flick of a switch.

On the upside, today is one of those balmy warm days with a slight breeze. There are cotton-wool clouds in the sky and it is peaceful (apart from the kids running around the compound, that is). But even the kids cannot take away the feeling of well-being inside me. After all, they are making the sound of their own happiness. Who can complain about that?

We will be going up to the Twiga plot again today to continue preparing the patch to receive vegetable seed. I have never seen so many kids so enthusiastic about working. But then, They will benefit, especially the poorest of them, with free fresh vegetables.

I have brought some good quality seed from England for leeks, cauliflower, onion, tomatoes, cabbage, perpetual spinach, beetroot and broccoli.

We showed the children the seed packets yesterday so that they could identify the different vegetables by the pictures on the packets. None had ever seen purple broccoli before.

The plot we are preparing is partially shaded by two enormous banana trees, which I think will be a good idea as the mean average temperature here is 25°C and can get higher on some days. Unlike most of Kenya, Kisii does not have distinct wet and dry seasons, but rather seasons with higher and lower rainfall, so there will be no problem with irrigation. This being the case, I hope that we will get two, or even three crops a year, providing vegetables all year round. Maybe I am just dreaming …

We also have guava, mango and avocado trees which I hope to prune and bring back to full productivity. I just wish I had Alan Titchmarch, Monty Don or even Berkshire’s own Colin Evans here to advise me.

Update
This plot is small, but right next to the hut which will be extended to provide accommodation for about 40 orphans and vulnerable children, eventually.

We have decided to use traditional building methods, that is, wattle and daub for two reasons, speed and cost. We will still have to buy roofing timbers, steel sheet and cement for the floors, but for the rest, it is all around us.

Another reason is that traditionally built buildings are not considered as permanent, so do not need permission.

Vincent and I got to the plot rather later than we had said as we had visitors at the house. When we did arrive, we had a reception committee comprising several of our kids waiting for us at the junction to the plot.

Once at the hut, all the kids rushed inside and started singing.

We raised our new Kenyan flag to show that the Twiga kids were officially in residence, then went up to the plot. By the time I got there, Edwin and Dennis had already roughly tilled about half of the area and with help from all the other kids, it started to resemble a vegetable patch rather than a bed of weeds. It was to be said that the soil is very good and fine, once broken up.
Vincent showed the way, and the other kids followed. A second hoeing had three raised beds ready for planting, so we sowed the seed, marking each row with the empty seed packet, just like my father used to do so many years ago.

As the seed was planted, it began to rain so we covered the beds with banana leaves to protect against the heavy rain that was to come.

We got back to the hut as the heavens opened. The kids looked delighted with themselves and rightly so. They had all worked hard, even the smallest ones and the teenage girls who had turned up not suitably dressed for work in the fields. Girls will be girls.

Drinks and sweets later, the kids were in very high spirits if a little tired and were singing and joking around, especially when they though that Vincent and I were not looking.

But although they were having fun, and I was enjoying their company, at 18.30, it was time to send them home, especially as there was a break in the rain.

Of course, Vincent and I had to wait for a matatu and when one did stop, the tout or conductor turfed off three or four passengers to get us on, those having been displaced hung on to the outside. To say it was overloaded would be an understatement. I also noticed that the oil pressure and brake warning lights were on and wondered if this ancient machine would get us the short distance we wanted to go. Of course, it did. It was a Toyota and as Jeremy Clarkson and co have proved in the past, they seem to take all the abuse that anyone can throw at them.

The last leg of the journey is always my nemesis, a steep downhill path which is made worse when it rains. I always dread it, but this evening, in semi-darkness and in rain, I was cringing at the thought.

In the event, I slipped only once and managed to stop myself from falling. The bridge seemed more rickety than usual and the climb up the other side of the valley to the house just about finished me off.

I must be getting used to the altitude (5,720 ft) as I seem to recover more quickly from my exertions.

Kenya Trip 2009 Part Four

23/5/09 Saturday
Today I had a shock – but more of that later.

and I set off for the “plot” by motorcycle taxi and arrived just after 13hrs. As we approached, we were aware that some kids had already arrived, so we wne straight up the hill to the hut.
The turn-out wasn’t great, but most of the regulars were there, particularly Edwin and Dennis,
Aloys and Nyachuba.

We hoisted the Kenyan flag over our hut for the first time and played a few games until we got down to the serious work of clearing a patch so that the kids can grow their own vegetables.
It always worries me, seeing kids with sharp objects. Unfortunately, I am the product of the Nanny State of the UK where all danger should be eradicated. Kenyan kids aren’t so fortunate.
Edwin, Dennis and Aloys set about chopping down the seeds while all the other kids pulled weeds and collected the resulting heap of potential compost.

That done, we returned to the hut where two big bags of boiled sweets were waiting for the attention of the little hard workers.

After a few more games and general messing around, we all set off for the compound where Edwin and Dennis, Aloys and Nyachuba live.

That is where the shock came.

Edwin and Dennis have been living with their sister and her children since their father remarried and moved out of the area. Aloys and Nyachuba are less fortunate. When their mother died their father also moved away leaving the two of them to fend for themselves.

They have a two-roomed hut with minimum furniture. Aloys cooks the food for the two of them, which he buys with money earned from selling milk from his cow.

Aloys is barely thirteen.

Both he and his younger sister attend school and both are working hard, gaining high marks in their exams.

Despite this, both Aloys and Nyachuba are very cheerful children, but look forward to the day when they can move into the Twiga home, where they will be looked after like the children they still are.

What can I say? I was saddened to see four wonderful, hard-working, cheerful children living is such circumstances. But it has strengthened my resolve to get the orphanage built as quickly as possible so that they can at least have some time to be children.

Kenya Trip 2009 Part Three

20/5/09 Wednesday
Today is a day for thinking. There are no kids in the house, so it is relatively calm. Had to send home for money as it is not lasting as well as last year.

Heard that Mum is very confused, which worries me, although I know she has a friend calling in at least twice a day, as well as her carers, who also make two daily visits.
Vincent and I have discussed the possibility of extending the existing hut to three times its present size, and building a second one next to it, one for boys and one for girls.

Apparently, if we use traditional building methods, wattle and daub, we do not need building permission as it is not considered to be a permanent structure. Maybe so, but the ones I have seen are pretty solid.

21/5/09 Thursday
Vincent and I will be going into town this afternoon, but with two kids to get ready for school and two others that stay at home, mornings are a bit frenetic, food shopping, kid washing, laundry, cooking for later on, etc. But we will get there.

I have quite a shopping list. I have also been contacted by Dennis in Kisumu, who is Alison Lowndes contact regarding MMS.

[Note to self] Do not take phone into wet room. It is bound to ring in the middle of a “shower”.
I am seriously beginning to miss Internet connection and I will be looking for a cell modem this afternoon. Unfortunately, there are several companies to choose from, all with different packages. This could be a mammoth task to find the best deal. Oh well, I know that Vincent will be more than willing to help as he will benefit as well.

Another little annoyance is that the left Ctrl button on my laptop has decided not to work in the prescribed manner. That and a persistent virus which I picked up off Vincent’s laptop are little annoyances that, at home would not worry me.

Vincent and I went into town by matatu just after lunchtime with a big “to-do” list and a bigger shopping list.

The first stop was the bank to obtain local currency, then a tour of the various mobile phone shops to see who was offering the best modems, as I was not going to waste half my time in cyber cafés, trying to get my emails.

We settled for Safaricom, not the cheapest, but with good quoted speeds, if offered the best value for money.

Next stop was Nakumatt, the Kenyan equivalent to Tesco, although not quite as grand. This was mainly for food shopping. We bumped into another mzungu, a rare enough sight in Kisii, let alone the supermarket. We stopped and chatted for a while before finishing off and making for the tills, where we queued behind another mzungu! They are getting everywhere, these white people.
We took motorbike taxis home, and again I threatened my driver with a fate worse then death if he went too fast, bearing in mind that the journey home is downhill with a major junction at the bottom. This is where I was pleased to be on a motorbike rather than a matatu as we weaved – slowly – through the jam and out of the other side in very little time.

But then my driver went and spoiled it by asking for 50 shillings for the 2 km ride. In the end we settled on 30/- for each driver and they went away, seemingly happy enough.
But then, I had to negotiate the dreaded hill, loaded down with the shopping, but as it hadn’t rained, it was quite easy.

At the time of writing, 22.15 local time, it still hasn’t rained. This is the first day that it hasn’t poured down before teatime. And I can see stars for the first time, too.
There are electric storms all around us, so I don’t think that the rainy season is quite over just yet.

After a slight struggle, we got the modem working on my already creaking laptop and I had the pleasure of downloading over 200 emails – mostly junk mail, of course. Still, there were a few interesting ones, and a couple of important ones as well. So it wasn’t all a waste of time.

22-05/09 Friday
It was a bad night. The local dog population decided to howl at the moon for the third night running, but this time, it sounded as if they were right outside my window. And, as it hadn’t rained yesterday, it was warmer than usual, so sleep eluded me for quite a while.

That having been said, I woke this morning feeling reasonably refreshed. I didn’t have a choice in waking up. We had one extra kid I the house overnight, and long before 7am, they were all up and making the din that only small kids can make.

So I crawled out of bed, into the porch and had my first fix of the day, a local brand of cigarette that doesn’t quite take the skin off the back of my throat.

It seems that the kids are not going to school today, which means that my little shadow, Joespat, is following me everywhere – well, almost everywhere. He is not allowed in my bedroom, which is a blessing, as I keep my cameras, cine equipment and other assorted non child-friendly equipment there.

I had a good play with the new cell modem, which seems to work at the speed it boasts, about 3.6Mbps, which ain’t half bad and a lot faster than offered at most cyber cafés in town.

After a breakfast of cinnamon tea and a type of local hard doughnut, I had another play with emails and similar. I have now received all of the back-log, a total of 846 emails. That will teach me to keep on top of them! Still, some of them were actually interesting, but, as I said before, the majority were rubbish. I don’t have the same filters on my laptop as I have built up on the main PC at home.

I spent too much time in the sun this morning and by lunch time I was definitely suffering with a dizzy head and a feeling of total lethargy. But with 5 young kids in the house and no other adult, I was not about to crawl into a corner and rest. As soon as I could, I took a “shower”. Of course this is not a real shower. I wet myself all over, soap myself then pour the water over my head. It is refreshing if not a conventional way of washing – not for me, anyway.

A couple of glasses of water later, I was feeling almost human again, but I have turned distinctly pink in certain places. But I suppose that is better than the colour of a plucked chicken, i.e. “white”.

The weather was funny today. It started to rain in the early afternoon and cleared up for a while at about 1600. But it is now overcast again at 1800 and there is rain in the air again. It is also very cool (18°C), which to me is a blessing.

I don’t know if I will be able to face a full supper as this will comprise an overfull plate. I just don’t know where my hosts put it all!

I went to bed early, but was awakened by a terrible sound and realised that the whole house was shaking. It lasted about 20 seconds and I lay there waiting for an after-shock or something. I have never been subjected to any sort of earth tremor before, but have, of course seen plenty of TV coverage of disasters around the world. This was in fact a very minor tremor, but it scared
me. I cannot imagine what a force 8 or 9 earthquake would be like.

Kenya Trip May 2009 Part Two

17/5/09 Sunday
We packed my backpack with clothes and I took my camera and video. But matatus with three places just weren’t coming, so we took three motorcycle taxis, and my driver was instructed to go slowly, on pain of death! I am more used to being in the command seat on these machines, but I need not have worried. My driver was good – that’s to say, we arrived in one piece.

We eventually arrived at the plot and I could see a small bunch of our kids already waiting for us.
After greetings and making a fuss of my little “Pixie”, Divina minor, we climbed further up the hill to the plot where we hope to grow our vegetables.

Upon our return to the hut, a few more kids had turned up, making a total of 12.
I searched the hut for remnants of the toys and games that KCIS had provided over a year ago, but apart from a hula hoop, I found only two balls, both somewhat deflated.
But we made good use of them until the rains started.

In a hut with a corrugated steel roof and no false ceiling, tropical rain and hail is deafening. It was impossible to hear myself speak for a few minutes, but once it had subsided, we started to dish out pens and pencils that had been donated in England.

Then the fun part, sorting out the clothes and finding recipients that would fit them. This almost became a free-or-all with certain garments, but we had to prioritise the kids whose circumstances are worst.

At the end, everyone got something and all the kids were happy. We sang a couple of songs and played a few improvised games before we sent them back to their lodgings, telling them that we would be at the plot on Saturday and Sunday of the following week, and to wear their oldest clothes as we intend to start preparing the vegetable plot.

18/5/09 Monday
I woke up stiff and sore, and with a mild case of sun burn, but as we had nothing planned, I contented myself with planning and brain-storming

19/5/09 Tuesday.
Vincent and I went to town, somewhat later than planned. Our first stop was a cyber café, where we got two adjacent computers. Vincent logged on immediately but my machine was obviously steam-powered. It took over 3 minutes to log on to the Internet and never actually opened up my webmail. I gave up as there were no other computers free.

We had a look around town. It had become apparent that at this time of year, it would be folly to put seed straight into the ground. The rain would dig them out and wash them away in no time. So, in order to follow my “3 crop a year” programme, we need seed trays and a watering can. The can was easy enough, but when asking for seed trays, I just got blank looks!

I also needed to change some sterling into shillings. The first bank had a long, long queue which didn’t seem to be moving. The second was virtually empty, but could not change currency unless I had a bank account with them. The third was happy to change the money, but their anti-counterfeit machine wasn’t working – so I gave up.

We went to the local supermarket, Nakumatt, where Vincent decided that he was going to give the banks one more try. I stayed at the store and watched the world go by. Vincent returned just as the storms started. We bought some provisions, chocolate for the kids and the watering can. We were in no hurry as we could hear the heavy rain on the roof of the shop.

We waited outside for the rain to subside when a matatu pulled into the car park. They were no to keen to take us as we did not have to go far, but eventually we were on board and on the way home. The road at the bottom of the hill was totally flooded with cyclists and barrow boys stranded, knee deep in swirling brown water.

The final leg of our return home was, of course, the hill that had cost me my dignity upon my arrival, but in daylight it was somewhat easier, although still fraught with the danger of me butt-skiing to the river below. As it was, I negotiated this obstacle course without too many near misses.

I was glad to get back to the house though.

Trip to Kenya May 2009 Part One

13/5/09 Wednesday
I was not in the mood. I couldn’t say that I was ready to go. Nothing was packed properly and I had doubts that my luggage weight was close to the upper limit for the trip. But finally, I closed my suitcase and backpack hoping that I was somewhere close.

At the airport, my fears were realised, in a way. My suitcase was over limit but I was allowed two pieces of hold luggage, and the rucksack could take more, if only I could cram it in. I did.
The plane was an Airbus A340, which is not the most comfortable I have ever flown in, but the ticket was the cheapest on offer, so I put up with the discomfort. At least I had the double seat to myself – the plane was only about one third full.

14/5/09 Thursday
We arrived in JKIA somewhat early, but immigration took longer as there were extra forms to fill is due to swine flu. On the upside, visas are now cheaper by £10, and eventually, I got to the bit I always hate, Customs. I always seem to be carrying something a bit dubious. The last trip it was several mobile phones which were donated in the UK to be sold in Kenya to raise money for the orphanage.

This time, it was seed. We want to grow vegetables on the plot and I know that the branded seed in the UK is of good quality.

I need not have worried, I just walked through.

But that is where the worries started. I could not see Vincent, who was supposed to meet me.
I bought some currency, a SIM card and some cell phone credit and got the guy in the phone shop to get it all going for me. Then I phoned Vincent – his phone was unavailable!

I wandered around the airport for a while and tried again. I was luckier this time and he assured me that he would be with me shortly – obviously a Kenyan shortly.
I went to the café and had breakfast.

Eventually Vincent arrived and we took a taxi into Nairobi. Working on past experience, I had a good look over all the shuttles waiting to go to Kisii. I did not like the first two in the rank, so we plumped for the third. I would not take long for the ones in front to fill up and go – I was wrong. We left Nairobi at about 13.00, but my choice of vehicle was good, the suspension still worked and it was quite a comfortable ride.

In the Rift Valley, the weather let loose and the heavens opened. Roads quickly flooded and we weaved left and right between ponds in the road.

We eventually arrived in Kisii after dark, and here was another shock. Vincent and Abigael had moved house and the new one is bigger and better, but to get to it involved negotiating a very steep, wet, slippery, muddy, downhill slope in the dark, carrying luggage. I failed at the first fence, so to speak, and crashed into a wall. But after a couple more undignified slides, we reached the bottom of the slope. Here I was confronted with a raging torrent of a river, to be crossed on a rickety, home-made wooden bridge that swayed and bent under my weight. Then a scrabble up the other side of the valley to a rather comfortable little house in a row of three, and with electricity!

After a clean-up, a change of clothes, something to eat and drink, we went through the clothes that had been donated to the orphanage.

I wanted Vincent and Abigael’s two daughters to benefit, as well as Benta and Josephat, two of the Twiga kids lodged with them.

Today's The Day

I just thought I would write a few words during this moment when I am sitting down to catch my breath, after running around like a headless chicken, getting ready for my trip to Kenya later today.

Firstly, I would like to thank the people of Thatcham who collected used children's clothes for me to take over to the orphanage. I have far too many to take in one trip, so I will just have to plan another trip, won't I (heh heh)?

Secondly, I want to thank the people, mainly my clients, who have donated cash and computer equipment, which has been sold to raise cash.

Lastly, I want to thank my Mum, who, despite the fact that she is dreading being left home alone, has made every effort to make this trip possible.

I am leaving today at 19:15, arriving in Nairobi at 06:05 local time, then straight off to Kisii to the orphanage and farm, where we will set about preparing the land and sowing seed.

I am also meeting up with other NGOs and between us we will be launching an anti-malaria campaign through the schools - teach 'em young!

I intend to keep this blog up to date, Internet connections willing, so watch this space.

On My Way: Part III

This is it. It's official. I have the ticket in my grubby little paws. I am going to Kenya.

Now all I have to do is decide what to take and how to pack it. I am not going to make the same mistake as on previous trips. I always take too many clothes. I am not alone there, am I? We all do it. But I know that it will always be warm - especially by my standards (i.e. better than 18°C), so I don't need any warm clothing, other than the fleece I will be wearing to get there.

So, how many shirts? Three? Four? Five? One on me, one in the wash, one drying - three. Simples.

Trousers? Two, plus jeans and shorts.

And a hat. I don't have natural head protection (any more)!

Hey, this is easy! Well, that bit was. But now it gets more complicated. The technology.

I have available 1 digital camera, one analogue camcorder, two Canon EOS bodies (film) (but only one lens), and a Pentax ME Super with 80-200mm. This last would be acceptable if I were going game hunting, which I am not - well, probably not.

So, digital camera and camcorder, spare batteries and chargers (and tapes for the camcorder). I will forget the film cameras. But I'll take my lightweight tripod.

Laptop. Of course I will have to take the laptop. How else will I blog and Twitter when I am out there? Then, card readers and USB cables, etc.

Toys, clothes and books - not for me, for the kids at Kisii. I have been given a load of both. These need sorting out and only the things I know will be used - and things that are not too heavy.

The other mistake I made was taking a large suitcase that was very unwieldy. I need one that is more square, preferably on wheels. £14.99 at the local InStore.

I will take my small back pack as hand luggage. It is big enough for my laptop and digital camera, and my fleece once I get to Nairobi, as well as duty-free and other bits and bobs needed for the journey.

Sorted, isn't it?

The one thing I am really not looking forward to is the shuttle from Nairobi to Kisii. I have now done two return trips, so I know what to expect, six hours of sitting cramped in a 12-seater minibus travelling down barely made up roads. In fact after Narok, the road is atrocious. We stop in Narok for a nature break and a cuppa and that is the only (scheduled) stop, unless we go off the road, or crash.

I had always taken the back seats. I don't know why, but thinking about it, these seats are over the rear axle, so every bump is transmitted through the seat and up my spine.

This time, I am going to get a seat between the axles. I am sure the comfort difference will be marginal, but believe me, any improvement will be most welcome.

Once in Kisii, transport will be on foot or by matatu. There are no tuk-tuks as the roads are too steep - unless we can beg or borrow a car - or even hire one for the days we want to go further than the town centre, or carry loads to the shamba.

So, that's sorted. Simples!

On My Way: Update

Well, that was short-lived!

I will not be leaving on 7th May after all - I have to take my Mum to the hospital - nothing serious, but it has to be done. So, my new date is on or about 12th May depending upon availability of tickets.

On My Way: Part I

So, I have settled all the affairs I can, posted out loads of reminder invoices and checked all my commitments for the next two months.

And I think I can finally get my butt out to Kenya. It has been over a year since I was last there, about 9 months too long a gap between visits.

I am planning to leave the UK on 7 May, flying overnight to JKIA, arriving early on the Friday morning, then a shuttle to Kisii, unless a miracle happens and I can hire/borrow/beg/steal a car - forget the steal bit, just hire/borrow/beg. I really do not like the trip from Nairobi to Kisii on shuttles. I feel that it is akin to suicide.

After an as yet undefined stay in Kisii, where I will be getting the shamba into some sort of order, and kick-starting an anti-malaria drive in the area, I will hop across the country to Malindi to see my girlfriend and the kids. I suspect that I will do very little as I find the coast just too hot.

Finally, I will probably have to stay a few days in Nairobi to catch up with contacts and see what the job prospects are. Then home to UK.

Shouldn't take more than a month to six weeks. It's a tough life but someone has to do it.

Doctors Welcome Malaria Microchip

Now this is good news - but not for countries crippled with malaria!

Dr. Joseph Mugasa (Kenyan Tanzanian) and Project leader Dr Lisa Ranford-Cartwright at Glasgow University claim they have created a device which can detect malaria within minutes.

From the BBC News website:

Doctors have welcomed the development as more travellers go abroad without taking proper precautions against the disease.
The flu-like symptoms can be missed until the patient is critically ill.
Blood samples are placed in the microchip, which is designed to detect the strain of disease. This means the best drug can be used to treat it.
Last year a study revealed more cases of the most dangerous type of malaria than ever before are being brought back to the UK from trips abroad.

The Health Protection Agency study identified 6,753 cases of falciparum malaria diagnosed between 2002 and 2006.
Experts said many of the cases arose from visits to west Africa made by people visiting relatives and friends.
Project leader Dr Lisa Ranford-Cartwright said: "The current way of diagnosing is using a blood smear on a slide and examining it on a microscope.
"That will take a good microscopist a good hour to reach a diagnosis, it's extremely difficult to make that diagnosis accurately.
"The chip can give us a result in as little as half an hour."

Unfortunately, this device will only be available in the developed world, where malaria is only a problem for travellers who do not take adequate precautions, as it will be too expensive for developing countries, which are the ones that really need it!

Of Google Earth and Cheese

It is funny how a particular activity can trigger memories, often mundane, and so it was today. I was scrolling along the French coast in Google Earth, looking for a friend's new house, when I passed over Deauville ...

My family and I were lucky enough to live in France for several years, in fact most of the 1980s. We were nicely established in a suburb of Paris, but enjoyed, like many Parisiens, to escape to the country at weekends.

One Sunday, we drove out to the Normandy coast to get a bit of fresh air in our lungs. It was fresh alright! We arrived at our destination close to Deauville just after the passing of a thunderstorm. The tide was out so we elected to go for a walk along the beach, which was strewn with enormous, purple jellyfish, presumably dead (but how can you tell!!?)

We walked for about a mile along the deserted beach, when my son turned round and saw another storm approaching from behind us.

We turned and walked briskly, then ran, towards the sanctuary of the car, but the storm got there before us and we were drenched.

We drove into Deauville and found a cosy bistro where we had hot drinks to warm us up, and after having revived ourselves, set off for home.

To get to the motorway from Deauville, you have to pass through Pont l'Eveque, a village famous for producing a particularly fine full-fat cheese. So we found a farm and bought four of these squares.

The journey home was long and slow as we were not alone in trying to return to Paris and by the time we got to our apartment, with two, still wet and miserable kids, a half-drowned dog, the last thing on my mind was the cheese we had bought.

Now, like many Parisiens, we only used the car at weekends, preferring to use the excellent public transport to go to work.

So it wasn't until the following Saturday that I was reminded of the cheeses that we had bought - when I opened the car door and was regaled with the odour of sweaty teenager's socks. No, it wasn't really socks, but the cheese which had been left to fester in the car.

In the event, the cheese was fine, just a little smelly, which is a feature of Pont l'Eveque cheese, but it took a long drive with all windows open to get rid of the smell in the car!

My Dinner in the Bin

After arriving in South Africa, for about a month, I lived in a hotel not far from Jan Smuts Airport. Then another ex-pat asked if I would like to take his rented house over, as he was returning to the UK.

I jumped at the chance and moved in about a week before they left, to get a feel for the place - and act as unpaid babysitter.

Then I was on my own. I still hadn't got used to the 7.30 start at the office, or the altitude and heat - although it was winter, the daytime temperature could rise to 28°C.

But, I was out of the hotel, I was free to do what I wanted, eat what I wanted. And I wanted cassoulet. I had all the ingredients so I set about soaking the beans for 24 hours and preparing everything else I needed, ready for the big cook-up the following evening.

So, the following evening, I started to make the most delicious meal I had ever had when I was living in France (each to their own). Everything was on the stove and I was very pleased with myself. I had prepared enough for that evening, and also for the two street kids I was looking after at weekends. It would be a real treat for them, I hoped.

I sat in the lounge and waited for my meal to cook - and fell asleep.

Now, do you know that smell of burnt meat, I don't mean singed around the edges, not BBQ burnt, I mean fully burnt right through to a cinder?

That's what woke me up. I sprang into the kitchen through a brown fog, opened all the windows and the door to try to dispel the odour. My maid, who lived in the compound rushed in.

"Devit, Devit! Dey being burn! Fire!"

I calmed her down (she had been caught up in some riots in a township and was a little anxious at the smell of burning flesh), and eventually sent her back to her room.

I had fish fingers for dinner that night.

That was a Wednesday. The cassoulet and the pans I was using ended up in the dustbin.

On Friday evening, the boys got to the house soon after I arrived.

"Ag man! Devid, what is this smell?" This from two township kids who live in an area where the smoke from the burners hangs around for days. It must have been really bad.

They were not amused when I told them that it was their dinner.

Kids and Curiosity

Sitting at a table outside a café in Kisii, I naturally become the centre of attention, especially for the kids walking home from school.

The bigger kids smile shyly and wave, the little ones stare, wide-eyed.

Some of the bigger kids encourage the smaller ones to come over and touch me. I hold my hand out so that they don't have to get too close to this weird, pale person sitting in the main street of their town.

Kisii, is not a major tourist area and as such is visited by very few Europeans or Americans, other than volunteer students, usually young and female, taking a gap year.

So, to see a mature white man in town is quite a sight.

It was the same in Komarock, a suburb to the east of Nairobi. As my hosts do not smoke, I took to sitting on the step outside their walled plot to have a cigarette.

At first, the local kids passed on the other side of the road. Then, some became braver and walked closer so that they could get a better look.

The ice was broken when I sat there with my digital camera. "Please, take my picture." "No, me, me, mimi!"

These kids live near the capital city, but many, especially the younger ones have never seen a white man, certainly not in their neighbourhood.

Watamu was different. Although it is still a small fishing village, because of the white sands protected by the reef, it has become a tourist attraction. There are many high-end hotels, run by Europeans. There are a lot of white people around. In the local supermarket, next to the Commissioner's office, European customers outnumber local residents.

People do not look twice when I am walking down the road, unless I am accompanied by my two step-children, Natasha and Ian, who are Kenyan.

It can be a bit disconcerting, being stared at, but I quickly realised that it is sheer curiosity - nothing sinister, just inquisitiveness - I can happily live with that.

Of Police, demonstrations, dying, etc.

This account may sound familiar.

There is an incident involving the deployment of a number of uniformed police officers. There are also various members of the public present; some violent offenders, some completely innocent and some, no doubt, able to switch either way depending upon how they feel or how much alcohol they have consumed, or what their cultural attitude to authority (specifically the police) might be.

During this incident, a man is pushed over and later dies of a heart attack. The man who pushed him over was trying to push him, of that there is no doubt. But he wasn’t trying to kill him. The Coroner declared that the victim died of natural causes and the perpetrator was never charged with anything even approaching manslaughter or murder.

Sound familiar?

Here is where the story changes dimension.

The national papers cover it as a factual piece, BBC News Websites give it a bit but not too much and national radio is almost silent over the issue. Almost no one howls for summary justice or a special enquiry. Do you know of this incident?

The dead man was PC Chris Roberts, the offender was Patrick Savage and it happened almost invisibly in Brinkburn Gardens, Edgware on Boxing Day 2007. At first, when initial reports flashed out on the wires that a policeman had died during an incident in London, the media ran it as “Breaking News!”. As soon as the circumstances became clear, they binned it pretty quickly.

H/T Inspector Gadget

And They Wonder Why We Complain ...

MPs rack up £1.4mn five-star free trips

Taxpayers are funding dozens of overseas “fact-finding” missions with many committee members staying in five-star hotels and flying first class.

Evening Standard - London

Backbench MPs racked up almost £1.4mn of free trips last year with a further £1mn of excursions already booked this year.

Full story on Gulf Times

What To Do ... ?

I have been planning to go out to Kenya immediately after Easter to get things started at the shamba.

But I have just received a text from my significant other, who lives in eastern Kenya. She has applied for a job with a Tanzanian company and has been "invited" to their headquarters for a few weeks. She is parking the kids with her sister and will be gone during the time I had intended being in Kenya.

Although my trips are mainly to work with KCIS and the Twiga home, I like to steal a few days to see my Sig. Other. I can't afford two trips in quick succession, so what do I do?

Either I go as planned but don't see my partner and kids (I haven't seen them for a year,now), or I put off my trip until the end of May so that I can see her, but putting off overdue work that really needs to get done now.

I am fresh out of ideas. I'll have to sleep on it.

Goodbye, Jade

So Jade Goody is no more. Her funeral took place yesterday, but apart from her immediate family, especially her two sons, she will not be missed.

I would have liked to have met Jade. OK, she came over as a thick, fat slob of a person, but she was a WYSIWYG*.

But, firstly, I don't think she was thick. She was certainly uneducated and ignorant. That was not her fault. It was the fault of the circumstances of her childhood and her education.

It struck me that all Jade wanted was to be loved. She finally achieved this when she was chosen as a competitor in Big Brother. She became an overnight celebrity, and loved every second of it. She had arrived. And she capitalised on it, but then blew it with her appearance in Celebrity Big Brother. She didn't even realise what she was doing to her "career". When she saw the footage after she emerged from the Big Brother house, she was shocked, ashamed.

She was not a racist. But, she let her mouth do the talking with little or no intervention from her brain. In effect, she was acting like the big kid that she still was.

She made great efforts to make amends, and succeeded. She entered the Indian version of Big Brother. And it was there that she learned that she had cancer. She was open about it, because that was the only way she knew how.

This is where her canniness came out. When she realised that she might not survive the illness, she made plans to ensure that her two beloved boys would be well looked after. She sold her story, her life, to the media. And she made a fortune.

Most people, when they find that they are likely to die, do not broadcast it, and certainly would not advertise it. But Jade was an in your face sort of person. Take it or leave it.

Many people, especially young women, took it. The number of cervical cancer tests increased as a direct result of the publicity surrounding Jabde's illness.

Theoretically, many lives will be saved because of Jade Goody.

There are many people with a worse epitaph.

*WYSIWYG = What You See Is What You Get

The Giant G20 Con Trick Is Unravelling

Peter Oborne has a very good analysis in the Mail today, exposing the G20 summit as a giant con trick. Here are a few extracts...

The biggest falsehood concerns the belief that the G20 nations have pioneered a $5trillion spending boost to global economies. Although Gordon Brown and President Obama had originally hoped to get world leaders to agree to such a 'fiscal stimulus', they actually failed to secure a single penny of extra government spending anywhere in the world.

Rather than admit defeat, however, they pretended they had won. So they invented the $5trillion figure. They arrived at the number by adding up the extra government borrowing expected to take place in G20 economies between 2008 (when the recession began) and 2010 (when world leaders hope it will end). It is a completely arbitrary figure.

The next fabrication concerns the claim that G20 leaders agreed a 'programme of support to restore credit, growth and jobs in the world economy' - worth some $1.1trillion. It was this headline-grabbing figure which caught everyone's imagination - yet sadly, it too is mainly a bogus number because much of the money had already been pledged in recent months.

Almost half of that $1.1trillion - some $500billion - takes the form of extra money for the International Monetary Fund to bail out countries that run into trouble during the economic downturn.

Although Gordon Brown brazenly asserted that this was new money, this is simply not true. Japan, for example, gave $100billion to the IMF last November, while the EU offered the same sum earlier this year. Admittedly, China did agree an extra $40billion last week. However, this contribution is very much less than Gordon Brown had hoped - and, most worryingly, indications emerged after the summit closed late on Thursday that the Chinese were having second thoughts.

Next, Gordon Brown claimed that some $250billion has been raised to regenerate world trade with the help of extra finance. Once again, his claim is an invention. Indeed, the small print of the G20 communique suggests only $3-4billion of new money has been committed, and the $250billion figure is only a vague pledge.

I fear that the more we look beneath the headlines of the London summit, the more its achievements look threadbare. I would estimate that no more than $250billion of the much vaunted $1.1trillion is genuinely new money. The true story is that Gordon Brown seems to have corralled fellow leaders into perpetrating a gigantic collective fraud on world public opinion.

Amid all the hoopla of Thursday's triumphant communique, it must be remembered that Gordon Brown has a long and disgraceful track record of this kind of bogus financial announcement. When he was Chancellor, many of his Budgets turned out to be contain fabrications.

This week's hubristic G20 communique reminds me vividly of Brown's notorious Comprehensive Spending Review of July 1998. Back then, Gordon Brown declared: 'On the 50th anniversary of the NHS, the Government will now make the biggest ever investment in its future.'

This announcement was given a euphoric reception by the media - only for it to emerge some time later that there was no extra spending and that the Chancellor had merely made the figures look huge by double and treble counting.

The problem with this kind of duplicity is that you always get caught out in the end. So will be the case with the G20 summit. Gordon Brown has achieved brilliant headlines in the short term, and it is likely that Labour's rating in the polls will soon start to rise as a result.

This week Gordon Brown and his fellow world leaders played cynically with the hopes and fears of these desperate people. They made promises they can't keep, made claims that they can never substantiate and triggered hopes that undoubtedly will soon be dashed.

The Prime Minister has won short-term plaudits, but over long haul his cheap and dishonest tactics will gravely damage the esteem in which politicians are held, and do great damage to his reputation.

Oborne's analysis is right. The con trick is unravelling and unravelling fast. Once the markets realise this, who knows what the consequences may be. Read the entire article HERE.

Computer, computers everywhere ...

I have not bought a new computer since 1994. That was a Intel 486-66 machine and it cost me the best part of £1,200!

Since then, having carried out many office clearances, I have always managed to keep myself relatively up-to-date by building PCs from the junk collected from others.

So, presently, I am running a home-built Tyan with an Intel Pentium-D 2.8GHz with 3 x 250GB SATA hard disks (OK, so I am greedy). I always have a second machine on the network so that if the Tyan crashes or is busy, I can continue to work.

The other day, a client asked if I could replace a hard disk that was threatening failure. This caused me to rummage through my "stock" to find one. At the same time, I had a look for a working PC that could be used by a pensioner who wanted to "have a go" on the Internet.

The result of my search revealed two partial computers, a home build and a faulty shop bought machine, both with 2GHz processors. Both machines accept SATA hard disks and both would be better than my No. 2 PC, if only I could get them to work.

So, that's what I am doing - trying to get them to work, finding various drivers for sound and video cards, etc. - it is not as easy as it used to be. Whereas I used to visit various sites and get the required software, now they all insist that I download DriverDetective, which tells me which drivers I need, and then try to charge me to download them. And paying for things is not in my psyche, as you may have gathered by now.

But, it will be worth it. I will have two PCs, both with at least 2 x 250GB drives in each, both capable of being RAIDed, so I am looking forward to never losing data again.

So, back to my pensioners. They seem to have been forgotten in the melée. I think I have unearthed a working 1GHz PC with W2K - that would do for one, but I am not having a lot of luck finding a replacement hard disk.

It Can Only Get Better Part III

I have just heard that down the road from our cyber café, which will soon have to close, another IT consultancy has shut up shop and ceased trading, and its premises are available.

We have put in a bid on the place. After all, people that go there expect to find a computer geek, so we hope that we will pick up custom from the previous trader.

We are also going to start a "college" for people who are terrifed of computers, as well as office services such as typing up documents and spreadsheets.

Oh well, here's hoping!

It can only get better (part II)

I have just heard from Vincent and he has found two premises, in the same town centre block, one on the 4th and one on the 5th floors. The higher we go the less we pay in rent. On that premise, I would be happy with something on the 10th floor, but it only goes up to 6th.

As we have proved that there are too many cyber cafés in Kisii to make any inroads, I have told him that we are changing direction slightly. We already offer computer repairs, configuration etc., and I want to introduce office services and IT tutoring (I taught IT to adult classes for several years in the UK and still have all the course notes).

Thankfully, Vincent is in agreement with the idea, so it looks like the week is improving.

And the kids are going to start clearing some of the land at the plot so we can start planting our crops.

We have a good supply of manure and I want to get a compost heap going as soon as possible.

I have to say I feel a lot more upbeat than I did this morning.

It can only get better ...

The day has started badly.

A couple of days ago, I installed a new hard drive in my laptop and installed Windows XP. Today, I tried to activate Windows and the registration process refused the key. So I had to phone Microsoft and go through their activation process, typing in a string of digits on the phone, then another string onto the PC.

I knocked my tobacco tin off the desk onto the floor wasting a lot of cigarette-making paraphernalia.

I spilled a cup of very hot tea onto my lap.

This, on top of the news of our pending eviction in Kisii (see previous post), and my week so far is not going well.

My man in Kisii, Vincent, thinks he has found new premises, but it is more outlay of scarce funds that I could do without. So, either I go to Kenya next month, or I send the money over to bail out the business.

My heart says go to Kenya, my head says bail out the business - why don't they ever agree?

I will have to make a decision very soon. My bag is more or less packed and ready to go.

OK, so it's now Thursday. Can the week get any worse? Probably, if I let it. So I am searching around the recesses of my head, looking for positive thought - something to cheer me up.

And what pops up?

A herd of giraffe serenely munching away at trees with thorns the length of my finger.

A little girl kissing a rhino.

A bunch of South African township kids mesmerised by the antics of meerkats frolicking not three metres away from them.

Stroking a cheetah.

A Maasai kid trying to separate his herd of goats from the zebra that have wandered into "his" patch.

Baboons sitting on rocks watching the traffic go by.

Flamingoes on Lake Nakuru.

Watching and listening to the kids at the Twiga Children's Home playing - for a couple of hours, without a care in the world.

There, I feel a lot better, now.

It never rains, but it pours

We have been given notice of eviction. At the Internet Café in Kisii, Kenya and we have to be out by the end of the month!

In this time of recession, and Kenya is affected as much as anywhere, our landlord has decided to pull down the building and build a tower block.

We have been offered other premises, it has to be said, better, more central premises. But there, they want one year's rent in advance - no chance of us finding that sort of money.

Kisii is a vibrant, bustling town. Commerce is thriving, so finding premises to rent at a price we can afford is virtually impossible. But my manager is on the case. If there is anything available, he will find it. But if there is nothing available within our price range, it could be the end of my first enterprise in Kenya, although the business is registered, and I have the certificate.

Of course, there is another course of action. We have the (dormant) business to export Kisii soapstone carvings. We had intended exporting in bulk, but we could sell individual items or small quantities. The problem is that the price soars as soapstone is very heavy. It is also very brittle, so we would have to increase the packaging, which again increases costs.

Maybe, fate (or something) is trying to tell me something. I am not a businessman, I am an engineer. Maybe I should keep my fingers out of enterprise and stick to designing and making things. But the idea of the cyber café was to give my friend, Vincent, an income so that he could then put more energy into looking after our kids at the Twiga Children's Home.

Why Kisii?

Kisii is a town, but also a District in the province of Nyanza, Kenya. It is situated in the SW of the country, in hilly country, mainly above 5,000 feet. Although it is only some 70km south of the Equator, the climate is pleasantly warm, around 25°C during the day and rarely drops below 15°C at night.

There is no rainy season as such. It can rain pretty much all year round, and the soil in the area is extremely fertile, except where it has been over-farmed.

The area was a coffee-growing area, but due to difficulties in receiving payment, the local farmers have reverted to subsistence crops.

The area also supports bananas, avocados, pineapples and other exotic fruits.

So, why have I made my base in Kisii town? I have been asked this many times, so it is about time to put the answer down "on paper".

First, I think it is necessary to explain briefly my connection to Africa.I was contracted to South Africa in 1989, during the apartheid era. I was politely asked to leave when the authorities found out I was too friendly with the ethnic population. I always wanted to go back to Africa, it had got under my skin.

Then, a few years ago, I was asked to manage the Rhino Ark website. Rhino Ark is a conservation charity in Kenya, so there it was, a (rather tenuous) connection to Africa.

A little later, I was contacted by ACIS, a Nairobi-based organisation, asking if I could supply cheap computers to schools in Kenya (I was, and still am a computer consultant in the UK). I couldn't help, but in conversation, I got roped into building them a website.

Soon afterwards, a children's home in Kisii contacted me, also looking for computers. Again, I offered to build them a website. We communicated regularly and became cyber friends.

Then, purely by chance, I met a rather pretty, intelligent, educated, Luyha lady over the Internet. She lives on the coast with her two children.

With all this going on, I was beginning to plan on going out to Kenya, which I finally managed in September 2007.

I was hosted by the director of the Nairobi-based organisation, who made me very welcome. He booked my coach to the coast so that I could meet up with my lady friend (that worked out rather well, by the way!).

On my return to Nairobi, I met people at WHO and KeNAAM. Then I arranged a trip out to Kisii to visit the children's home.

As soon as I arrived, I was "adopted" by a cute little boy, Josephat, who dubbed me his Baba Mzungu (hence the blog name). I met many of the kids, and was shown the plot where it was hoped the orphanage would be built.

I returned to the UK after a month in Kenya, and vowed to return as soon as possible.

I did, in March 2008, after a delay caused by the post-election troubles.

I went straight to Kisii, where I stayed for about 10 days as a guest of my friends Vincent and Abigael, the directors of the children's home. I made another vow. I wanted to work with Vincent and Abigael, in Kisii.

After another 10 days on the coast to see my "New family", I returned to Nairobi, where I stayed a further 10 days.

Upon my return to the UK, I started to work on the projects we had discussed.

Vincent and I eventually decided to form a new organisation, KCIS, of which we would both be directors, or trustees, and we would incorporate the children's home, renamed Twiga (giraffe in Swahili).

Vincent, Abigael and I are now ready to start the practical work that we have been planning for a year. We will turn the plot into a shamba (farm), where we will install the projects, grow food for the children, hopefully with a surplus that we can sell.

So, that is "Why Kisii?" Pure chance, if you believe in chance, or was I guided there?

The Matatu

When in Kenya, I tend to try to live Kenyan. I am there on a budget so I am not going to hire a car, and the only car I did have the use of was destroyed during last year's PEV.

So, it is public transport for me, usually matatu or shuttle, or coach, when going to the coast (because going to the coast is 'holiday').

Matatus and CitiBuses are fine to get from the suburbs into town. Mataus are 14 seater minibuses that run a specific route which is displayed by a hand-painted number badge in the windscreen. This is fine as long as you know where the routes go, not so good if you don't. You can always ask a tout. They are usually very helpful.

On a short matatu journey, it does not matter too much where you sit. Every seat is uncomfortable and these vehicles are usually packed with people and luggage, which can include livestock.

For longer journeys, there are the shuttles. These are 12-seaters and provide a non-stop service between far-flung towns, stopping only for a refreshment break.

When using shuttles, there are a few points I would make.

Firstly, there is fierce competition for your custom. Touts will guide you to their vehicle. Don't be bullied. At the very least, check the tyres and if possible, get a general idea of the state of the vehicle.

Shuttles do not leave until all seats have been filled. Having found one in reasonable condition, try to get a seat between the axles. The back seat is to be avoided at all costs, unless you like being bounced between the seat and the roof of the vehicle. Personally, I like second or third row, right window seat. If you are brave, you could sit up front, next to the driver. But in a head-on crash, front seat passengers are the first things that get hit. Avoid the seat over the engine. Six hours on that will cook your butt!

When travelling by matatu or shuttle, remember that fares are the premium for the driver and tout, and more journeys mean more fares. So they get to wher ethey are going to as quickly as possible - they have two speeds, stop and full speed.

And to give you an idea, I was once in a matatu during a driver change-over. The driver got out while the vehicle was still running and the new driver jumped in to take over. We lost about 3 seconds on the journey!

Also, don't be surprised if the vehicle breaks down en route. But don't worry. The tout will climb under the bus and usually get it going again.

That's a Rash Idea

My imagination has been running away with me - again!

OK, so the idea is this - I don't remember suffering a fever at the time ...

On our plot in Kisii, Kenya, there is a two-room hut, not a cottage, not a bungalow, a hut, made of sticks, stones and mud. At least the roof is corrugated steel. There are proper windows and doors, with security grilles.

There is a corridor running front to back between the two rooms with doors to the outside at both ends.

As the hut is built on the side of a hill, the back faces a small cliff and there is an open passageway running between the hut and this cliff. There is also a small appendage which could be used as a "kitchen".

So, my idea is ... to live there for a while ~ no electricity, no running water.

But, while I am there, I want to carry out some minor improvements.

First off, I will install water, with a tank on the cliff behind the hut, to give a head. This will supply an outside shower and maybe running water to the kitchen.

Second, a home-made portaloo. I want to use the waste to collect the methane, which will eventually power a generator and a water pump (there is a river at the bottom of the plot).

Then there is the land itself. On top of the cliff, the land is a lot flatter than in front of the hut. It is very fertile and I reckon, from memory, there is enough to grow crops to feed all the kids on the orphanage register, with some left over to sell.

A by-product of the methane production is fertiliser. This together with composting will keep the soil rich, which will be necessary as I want two or three crops a year - it rains all year round in Kisii.

Linking into these improvements, I will be experimenting with using the sun to warm water for washing, and water filtration and purification. I also seem to remember building a food cooler when I was at school - but that was in 19 - yes well, it was a long time ago.

To finish off the place, I will make a BBQ out of ½ an oil barrel, so that the kids can sample the delights of a burger or hot dog (you know the type, burnt on the outside, raw in the middle).

What I had forgotten when dreaming up all this is that I am approaching 60, I am not the fittest person in the world, and I am mildly disabled. Further, Kisii is at 5,700 feet and oxygen is a bit thin.

Still, it will be an experience and it will allow me to tinker with the project designs and get them to work to their best effect.

Wish me luck!

I Don't Get Sick ...

... very often. I cannot remember that last time I visited the medical centre other than to get anti-malaria pills etc.

But this week, I had to give in. Two or three weeks ago, I sneezed and promptly became deaf in one ear. I was not too concerned ~ it has happened before and cleared itself after a couple of days.

But this time, it hasn't. And on Wednesday morning I woke up to find my face was swollen and resembling a misshapen pumpkin - nothing new there then I hear someone retort - cheek.

So I trotted down to see a doctor, who confirmed that I had an abscess in my jaw. Brilliant.

I am now on a course of antibiotics to clear the abscess and hopefully the infection I have probably got in my ear. Cost? £7.30.

And then, of course, I will have to line up a visit to the dreaded dentist.

Oh well, it could be worse. At least I am in the UK at the moment. Although I have complete faith in the Kenyan health service, it is a question of the comfort of surroundings I am familiar with.

Power Cuts

It was about 7.30 last night. Both computers were humming contentedly, the TV was on and I was reading through emails, whilst keeping an eye on Twitter.

There was a flash and everything went dark - power-cut. After 15 seconds, everything came back on and I was just reaching the power button on computer 1, when the power cut again. This went on for about 3 or 4 minutes before it want altogether.

OK, nothing for it but to find the torch (always at hand), then dig out the paraffin lamp and candles.

Having restored some level of light, the old Calor stove was retrieved and I started a brew - after all, what else is there to do, other than drink tea?

We were without electricity for about 2½ hours - not too bad.

When it was restored, I reset the clocks and re-booted the computers. They fired up without complaint, thankfully. So I made another brew.

Brew made, I sat at the computers to continue checking the latest mail - when the power went out again.

So I reached for the torch, re-lit the candles and paraffin lamp, etc ...

This outage was for only about 45 minutes, but when I re-booted PC1, it complained by taking an absolute age to get through its self-check procedure. In the end, it sprang back into life.

I re-set the clocks, put away the candles and paraffin lamp. The power stayed on and we haven't had another outage since.

And no, this was not in Kenya, this was 50 miles from London, UK.

How is it that in the 21st Century, 50 miles from London we still get regular power outages?