Blue Coast and white Cheese

The Samsung guy had himself a movie for the long trip. I had myself a bad stomach. We all had a thing for the trip. In his phone there was a group of teens wilding in the streets. The street was well lit under golden lights. You could see Korey Wise, Raymond, Kevin and the likes. A story of the Central park five. A tale of a society where a black man has no rights. A tale of two similar persons, but while one makes it and escapes with their life to live another is left doomed and susceptible behind the steel bars.

I kept asking the guy “how far is Mtito Andei?”  but the answer was always still too far. Too far was toooo far until it couldn’t be too far any more! The fact remains it was a looooong night.  

At 8 am in the morning I was crossing the ocean at likoni. Likoni is a funny place if you’re visiting it for the first time. You see figures running – wrapped in black buibuis and white kanzus. You may think a bomb has been detected and people are running for dear lives, so who are you not to run? kumbe guys are running to board the ferry. The waters are scary; it’s the same place where a woman and her daughter Amanda drowned a week later.

When you alight from the ferry the other side, you realize life isn’t any different. People this other side are as well running and swelling at the waiting bay for the ferry to take them back. Along the corridors, fish merchants are displaying their wide variety of fish. They show you breeds of fish that are sparkling  yellow, blue and green. How you react betrays you, and you hear them say ‘huyu mwanangu ni mgeni...’  They insist on showing you another type of fish and this time its octopus. When you think its  all, another short man shows up with some kind of a sea creature looking literally like mucus – but he wants to take his sweet time to convince you that it’s a delicious fish.

The next day ended swiftly eating maamri in the morning, getting burnt in the heat till noon, having some beans cooked with coconut oil and chapatis. Drinking maji ya madafu in the evening, taking some crazy fish in the night then going to bed in your God-given gown and toss in the heat till morning.  

If you don’t know Tiwi and Tiwi spoti are two different places you are lost! Tiwi spoti is this one cool place you don’t wanna leave. It hosts the typical coastal villages where people live like one large family. Everyone is greeting everyone and that’s where you get lost completely. The Swahili be too much, you are used to “niaje” “poa” greetings and that doesn’t apply here. The struggle to fit is real! There are no fences; your doorstep is a route to someone else’s home. You don’t have to see your neighbour to greet them. When you happen to pass by when there’s no one in the compound you shout ‘mamake Ahmisi’ or ‘ shikamoo mjomba’ then a voice will slip through the cracks on the wall saying ‘marahaba mwanangu’  if there’s no voice you know there’s no one and carry on.

Diani is a dime piece. As you head there, you scheme your way through thickets under tall coconut trees and as you get close, you start hearing the rumpus of the ocean waves. Beside the sandy road there are some old houses built with makuti. The beach looks beautiful under the setting sun as it stretches miles away. It serves you an unforgettable moment of your life, a cool breathe of the ocean as the waters sweep your feet. The white sand below and the open sky above makes you forget your agony. It’s an inimitable therapy that takes you out of the world for a moment.

The surfing kites look amazing in the sky during the day - the speedboats are a thing too. Swimming at the shores is amazing, even if you aint a good swimmer the large volume of water keeps you a float. The salty water stings your eyes but no one is sorry. They say it’s medicinal.

The ship looks like a beautiful moving city at night, it’s enormous. It tears the ocean apart leaving a huge furrow in its wake. The tones of masses are weighing it down but on it moves with ease.  When it passes, the ferry has to wait for the water to settle. You see it vanish slowly but surely. It descends from a massive beautiful city to a tiny thing far away.

I toured the town the next day. Things were quite cheap. I met a lean guy called Sheriff. He deals with cargos at the port. He is a European but speaks Swahili fluently. He was Spanish I guess. I don’t know when I started trusting strangers, but he was this nice guy. We met at a park in town, uhuru gardens or something. He was smoking cigar and had a nice cap. He had Kenyan politics at the tip of his fingers. He knew many MPs, governors and state officials. He made me question if I was the Kenyan in the room or him.

His office is badly jumbled up. There is a cat on his desk. At the other end there is a lot of metal locks. He says they are used to lock the containers on the trailers. He introduces a middle-aged guy as Jack. Jack is this guy that Sheriff use to run all his errands.

Jack served us cheese. He said he liked it when his children study in kenya. He had a daughter studying Architecture at JKUAT. His son had recently graduated at UON but they were both now abroad with their mom who didn’t love staying in Kenya. He told me his daughter was my age mate. He pulled his phone swiped twice - thrice and showed me the beautiful damsel. Cute like a bug’s ear. I wanted to be Sheriff’s friend forever, to be business partners maybe, but time couldn’t allow. 

We stood at the staircase for a moment staring at the beautiful old town. I asked Sheriff why he smokes... Without a thought he said, ‘I was born a smoker’ I stared at him expressionlessly. I have never known what that meant. What is it to be born a smoker? Is it the same way someone can be born a singer that another person can be born a smoker? He wanted to convince me that smoking isn’t as bad. But looking at him I knew it’s worse than being a thief.  We exchanged contacts, shook hands and I left. I looked back and saw Sheriff light another cigar. I hoped that even in this addiction Sheriff should live long!

I thought I would get home in one piece, but the evening had other plans for me. It turned out to be second to hell. They didn't even spare the cheese that Sheriff gave me. I was disrespectfully robbed!

Happy Thursday and Gin-ious weekend!!