Where Is Kumekucha?

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My sincere and humble apologies to all my regular readers who have missed me since Friday. Sorry for any anxieties caused and let me assure you that I am fine and now truly back and at your service as always.

When I flew into Nairobi shortly before lunchtime (Kenyan time) last Friday, it was the first time I had been to the so-called city in the sun for over 3 years. I then ventured deep into the beautiful Rift Valley where I have been missing from, for even a longer stretch of time. Alas, I was not able to pause at the place called "View Point" to take in the magnificent floor of the Rift Valley because there was fog that was so thick that even Matatu drivers were not overtaking (can you believe that!! A matatu failing to overtake a slow moving vehicle ahead of it!!)

Part of my mission in the Rift Valley was to witness a young man from the Akamba community all the way from Machakos negotiating vigorously for a Kikuyu beauty to be his life partner. Truly there is hope for Kenya. One day love amongst all Kenyans will be completely blind of tribe. The man succeeded but not before some anxious moments including one dramatic point in the negotiations when the Kikuyu elders demanded a hefty five-figure fine because the man who had eloped with their daughter had taken too long to come and inform them of what was happening.

I cannot of course fail to mention the high point of the whole ceremony which was when the master of ceremonies asked both parties (at first a little nervous of each other) to sing the same song but in each other's language. That is the Kamba sang in Kikuyu and the Kikuyu sang in Kamba. Of course the Kikuyu find the Kamba language melodically amusing while the Kamba's sometimes have a problem with the heavy Kikuyu R's instead of the L's that they are more used to. Still it worked and it broke the ice. My only regret is that I did not have a video camera to capture the whole thing.

Sadly that is about the only good news I have to report from my trip. The rest is all bad news. Kenya is indeed on fire and all my worst fears regularly expressed here proved to be uncannily accurate. It became very clear to me that as we hurtle towards the rapidly approaching general elections, there is need for those who believe in prayer to double their efforts in asking for divine intervention to take our great but badly limping nation through a very difficult time.

I was fortunate enough to be chauffeured around very comfortably most of the time by people who had to make some sacrifices to make the whole thing possible (and for that I am very grateful to them). Still I did manage to enter a matatu or two (the best place to feel the pulse of Kenya, first-hand). I could not help noticing the desperate faces. The lack of smiles that I at least occasionally saw the last time I was here.

Hopefully the tree we planted deep in the heart of the great rift and for which you my dear readers had to sacrifice by persevering my absence for the whole weekend, will one day make its' small, tiny, contribution to the healing of Kenya.

Father and son seduced by the same woman called "death."

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