The 49th Year, explained .........

I first arrived in Kenya on 12th September, 1968 .... and for many years now I have had the intention or dream of returning for a 'final fling', so to speak, on the 50th anniversary next year, thus making this year, the 49th year !    I have returned to Africa on many occasions since 1979, when we left after a long period of teaching in various schools in western Kenya.    I took my youngest daughter (who was born in Kenya and left as a baby) and my son to Kenya in 1996, to give them a little taste of the experiences their older sisters had.   Then in 2002 I went on a desert trek to Namibia to raise money for charity, and in 2006 went to Egypt.  So together with a visit to Nigeria in 1973, I have seen something of north, south and west Africa, as well as my years in East Africa.  

Like so many people I know, Africa gets into your blood, and you cannot leave it alone, like a persistent itch.   I dream of Africa ... and am reminded of Karen Blixens musing:-  "If I know a song of Africa .... does Africa know a song of me?"  I do know that people in Kisumu remember me, even if I forget their names, for I am often greeted in the streets by people I have only met once, (and I myself met a beautiful Indian lady on a train in Canada I had last seen in her grocer fathers Kisumu shop when she was a child).   The most remarkable was an elderly Luo man I met a few years ago in the main street of Kisumu, who remembered me, (and the name of my first daughter) from when I lived at Maseno, more than 40 years previously.     

I have been searching through old pictures, mostly from re-scanned 35mm slides, to see what are the earliest pictures I have of Kenya .... the sunset was taken in September 1968 from the first house we lived in at a place called Ng'iya; we were there for about three months, and then moved to Maranda in December 1968 to the house in the second picture .... we had actually had to help in the building of this house !   Government officers (i.e. teachers) had to go where they were sent, so we lived in, I think, seven different houses in our time there.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

To change the subject completely, I have been thinking of the current troubles in Laikipia, with ranches and farms (many of which are owned by white Kenya citizens) being invaded by local nomadic tribesmen who burn buildings and shoot workers and the owners, so that they can drive their cattle onto the ranch land for water and grazing, during this dreadful on-going drought.   

Just as the population of Kenya has increased vastly (five times what it was in the 1970's) so have the numbers of cattle, sheep and goats.   The tourist camps, ranches and hotels rightly employ many of the local people, for example, the Maasai and Samburu men are employed as guides and safari drivers.   This brings money and improvements to the local community .... BUT much of this money is spent on increasing the size of herds, which puts more pressure on the grazing available.   

To many Africans, cattle are like money in the bank, and the goats are their larder.   You don't eat your bank balance !   In times of drought and famine, it would be good if there was some sort of government scheme to buy many of the cattle, for slaughter, and turning into meat products ... but who wants money ?   The nomadic pastoralist peoples love their cattle, even if the cattle are starving, and drive them into the reserves in an often futile attempt to keep them alive on stolen grazing until the rains come.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

I was given this 1938 book last week by a friend; its SO very of its time !   This is the sort of stuff that encouraged white settlers !!