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Page 10/SUNDAY MAGAZINE Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard Page 10/SUNDAY MAGAZINE
LiteraryDiscourse
PoetryCorner
Nairobians are atypical of
Kenyan readership
Slave
BY JOAN BARSULAI
BOOKReview
P
urely on account of preju-
dice, there are books I cannot
touch, even if you gave them
to me free of charge. I form my
opinion of a persons literary capabili-
ties after reading a few of their works,
short or long. And once I have made
up my mind, I do not care whether
you win both the Jomo Kenyatta Lit-
erature Prize and the Burt Award for
ten consecutive years.
I have learned to view those liter-
ary prizes with three eyes since the
submission process is never com-
pletely watertight and anonymous. I
think some of the winning entries are
just toads with fewer warts than the
rest.
The approach is weak in many
ways. It ignores the well-known fact
that perfection (specically of the lit-
erary type) is often the child of con-
stant practice, almost on a daily basis.
You also risk sending future gold into
the dustbin.
We should regret that injustice.
But even as we do, I must quickly ob-
serve that our world is bursting with
gems of books, which we need to con-
sume before we die, even if Ecclesias-
tes warns us against such exertion.
That is why I urge all Kenyan
readers to dismiss, with a wave of the
hand, any pretender-writers who are
bent on eating into our valuable time
with books that are featherweight in
terms of ideas. And Im afraid much of
that is found in Nairobi.
If you listen to what inspires oth-
ers to write in Kenya, you laugh in the
same way Lawino promises you will,
should you see the beautiful one
called Clementine in Okot pBiteks
Song of Lawino (1966).
I may be unfair to Nairobi, but
BY ABENEA NDAGO
What it has in over-abundance are
things called mchongoano. And it can
take you a whole year, but still you
will not have succeeded in convinc-
ing me that such things are not
just dark abuse and
pure gossip (afni-
ties they share with
a language called
Sheng).
No. I would be
surprised if Kenyan
readers wasted their
precious time on
things of that sort. I do
not know how news-
papers conduct their
research on the books
Kenyans read, but I can
see that serious
BEFORE THIS
MIRROR
Im standing before this mirror
Looking at this man
He turns his head away
instead
His face contorted in a painful
frown
His heart bleeding from the
inside
His skin beaten by the
hardships of life
Yet he refuses to give up.
I shake my head in pity
I pity him
He pitys me.
He slowly turns his head,
Looks at me straight in the
eye,
Smiles and tells me,
No pity party please.
Thats when I realise,
Im looking directly at the real
me,
Right in front of this mirror
called life.
He tells me,
I can only be down
temporarily,
But can never be out
permanently.
I stretch my hand and touch
me,
He smiles back at me warmly,
I smile back at me warmly.
Say to myself condently,
NOW THAT IS ME.
The other one was my fake
identity.
By DAY OTI
readers do not waste a minute of their
time on such books, even in the face
of the most trumpet-like advertising.
Our readers only lose me the mo-
ment they begin nurturing the dan-
gerous idea that books authored by
Kenyans are meant to be read for free.
As I have seen in past classes, cheeks
sag as soon as you suggest that texts
by Kenyan writers are to be bought.
If a book called Nairobi Cold, for
instance bores me to death, then I
should reject it even if its author threw
it at me for free. Disobeying that logic
only implies that the reader was an in-
corrigible liar all along.
They buy European books mainly
because the Kenyan middle class is
western in culture, and suggest that
books by Kenyan authors be given to
t h e m for free, probably
b e - cause much of
i n d i v i d u a l
wealth in
Kenya was
pl under ed.
Such dishon-
est readers
impoverish
their au-
thors in broad
daylight.
I think our capital is a chimera city.
And I do not see how its writers can be
anything different, their biggest head-
ache being how to deal with a lion-
goat-serpent setting in their writing.
I have come to learn that 34 per
cent of Kenyans live in Nairobi, and
of this number, 71 per cent dwell in
informal settlements where we speak
mother-tongue and eat traditional
food on a daily basis.
FRIVOLOUS
So, you see how wrong and con-
ated even selsh you are to in-
sist only on a certain tiny class of Nai-
robi in your writing, and project the
same as ofcial Kenyan literature?
Nai r obi is never wise; it
is frivolous and petty.
The city has been
in existence s i n c e
1899, and in
its 115 years
of existence,
Nairobi has
never invented
a single proverb.
Author: Mende Nazer and Damien
Lewis
Publisher: PublicAffairs
Slave is a gut-wrenching story that
depicts the woes and awful tragedies
that the South Sudan people have
suffered.
The year is 1993, and Mende Nazer, a
12-year-old girl, enjoys a happy, idyllic
existence with her sister and parents
in Nuba Village in South Sudan. She
describes in detail how close-knit
her family is; she is especially close
to her father.
And then, one horric night,
Arab raiders attack her village,
murdering the adults and rounding
up 31 children, including Mende.
On the way to the captors homes,
Mende and the other girls endure
brutal physical and sexual abuse by
the roadsides, which she narrates
in harrowing detail. Once the girls
arrive at their destination, they are
herded together like cattle for days,
and
then sold off as
slaves to the highest bidder.
Mende is sold to a wealthy Arab
family who live in Sudans capital city,
Khartoum. This is where her tortuous
life of enslavement begins.
Her Arab owners call her Yebit, a
common word for black slave. She
calls them Master.
At rst, Mende is only allowed to
clean, not because of her age, but
because her owners consider her
too dirty to touch the familys food
or children. But soon, she is cleaning,
cooking, and providing childcare
around the clock.
In one scene, the reality of how
her childhood is being ripped away
from her is particularly evident, as
she watches her masters children
playing outside, and she wishes she
would join them.
While working in that home, Mende
suffers physical, sexual, and mental
abuse. She spends cold nights in a
shed and eats the familys leftovers.
Typical of a slave, she is not accorded
any freedom to enjoy a life of her
own; everything she is belongs to her
masters.
It is rare to hear stories such
as Mendes, and in such detail.
Fortunately, seven years after she is
sold into slavery, she is sent to work
for yet another master a diplomat
who works in the United Kingdom.
Through some sort of uke, she
manages to make contact with
some of her fellow Sudanese in that
country, and makes a dramatic dash
for freedom.
Slave is a story that is almost surreal,
in the way that it shows the strength
and tenacity of a young girl despite
the hopelessness that surrounds
her. In spite of all that she endures,
Mendes spirit manages to remain
intact; this part of her cannot be
broken.
Be warned: This is an emotionally
gripping read. The writer does not
mince words when she details the
suffering she endured in the hands of
her captors, so her book is not for the
faint-hearted.
Nevertheless, it is wonderful to see
a former slave give a voice to other
enslaved children. I would give this
one ve stars
SUNDAY MAGAZINE /Page 11 Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard
w
Family FINANCE
By VERONICA CHEROP
verocheropy@gmail.com
get the babys cot ready. If this is
your rst baby, then you can buy
a good, durable bed that can be
used by the babys future siblings.
Getting stuff for your new baby
is not cheap. Cut the cost by
getting some items from friends
and relatives with older children.
Deciding to get everything new
can drain you. For example, a
newborns rompers can cost about
Sh2,000 apiece, and you will need
at least ve and these the baby
will outgrow in just two months.
Remember, you also need to buy
vests, sweaters, diapers, blankets
the list is long and costly.
Besides money for babys
shopping, ensure you also have
a lot of cash with you those rst
few months as visitors will be in
plenty, which means tea and soft
drinks will ow, along with your
money, of course.
In short, a babys arrival is a huge
investment; plan for it.
A man once went to his neighbour
to borrow Sh2,500 to pay his
wifes labour ward fee.
I will refund the money in just
one month, the new father
pleaded after explaining his
situation.
But the neighbour looked him in
the eye and growled, Was your
wifes giving birth an accident?
The desperate man, unsure
where the question was leading,
answered, No.
Then go and discharge your wife
and baby from hospital, came
the scathing response.
Crestfallen and slighted, the man
left, and somehow raised the cash
required to clear the hospital bill.
Last weekend, ten years later,
he told us this story during a
teachers focus group meeting
that was discussing investment.
As I walked from his house
fuming, I kept repeating over and
over that indeed, the birth of my
child was not an accident. Why
had I not prepared well for his
arrival? It was a wakeup call.
several months removes the
strain of looking for the money at
the last minute.
Other parents take up insurance
cover that takes care of
pregnancy and delivery.
Whatever option you choose,
know that pregnancy and birth
should never be other peoples
burdens meaning you should
never borrow to take care of the
costs of bringing a new life into
the world. At least, unlike sudden
illnesses, pregnancy gives you a
long duration over which to plan.
Financial implications also include
shopping for the new baby. Some
nd out the babys sex in the
early months of pregnancy and
shop accordingly. Those who
choose otherwise can still shop
for their unborn babies. Unisex
baby clothes and shawls are just
as beautiful and who said blue
is a boys colour? You can buy any
colour you like.
As the delivery date approaches,
During the subsequent births
of my two other children, I was
nancially prepared in advance.
Ive also extended this planning
to school fees. Im always ready
because I learned my lesson that
day.
Indeed, most mothers at the
meeting said they started
preparing for the arrival of their
babies psychologically and
nancially the moment the
doctor pronounced the magical
words, You are pregnant.
Some chose the hospital they
wanted to deliver at, and started
saving little by little every month
towards the babys delivery. Many
hospitals have packages under
which one can save according to
the mode of delivery they want
(natural, elective caesarean or
induced), as well as the type of
ward they want to be admitted to
(general or private, with the latter
being more costly).
Staggering the payments over
Q
Q
Q
Q
Chamas
WITH SOPHIA OYUGI
sophiaoyugi@yahoo.com
1. What is the name of
your group and why the
name?
Our group is known as Nyi-
nam Women Welfare Group. Nyinam
is a Luo word that means daugh-
ters of the lake. The members are
either from Nyanza, or married to
men from Nyanza.
2. How did you meet?
We met in the course of our
Q
Q
Q
Q
Q
Q
Q
Daughters of venture
Members of Nyinam Women Welfare Group launched a cooperative society, Nyinam Sacco,
last month. [PHOTOS: JONAH ONYANGO/STANDARD]
Page 12/SUNDAY MAGAZINE Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard
S
ome people say our education
system is in tatters. The 8-4-4
system has come under harsh
criticism, with some armchair
experts claiming it is not the right aca-
demic diet for our heirs. The system has
been deemed inferior to its predeces-
sor, and has been blamed for producing
poor thinkers and unimaginative grad-
uates, as well as an inordinately high
number of thieves, bimbos, football
hooligans and other social mists.
Hii masomo ni ya bure, Baba Jim,
jokes my friend, Odhiambo.
Despite the opposition, 8-4-4 re-
mains the system of choice for most par-
ents, particularly hustlers and sufferers.
From experience, my children are
learning important life skills, thanks
to eight foo foo. In Tiffanys class, for
example, they have been taught to use
words such as sorry, excuse me and
thank you.
Teacher Lucy alitufunza lugha ya
ungwana, she says.
As you probably know, Tiffany is
BabaJimmi
With
Joseph Maina
Tiffany
knows the
importance
of washing hands
after visiting
Onyangos ofce.
pursuing her second year studies at the
local kindergarten.
Before dinner on Friday evening, my
little angel led us in saying grace, and I
couldnt help but marvel at the beauty
of her short prayer. Unlike Jimmys, Tif-
fanys prayers were not aimed at having
her school burned down, or her Math
teacher buried alive.
Who taught you to pray? I en-
quired afterwards.
Teacher Mercy, Tiff piped back
with a grin, and you could almost see
the halo over her head.
Moments later, there was drama
when Russell tried to eat before wash-
ing his hands.
Daddy, Ras anakula na mikono
chafu! Tiffany screeched in horror.
Teacher Mercy told us dirt can cause
diseases.
According to Tiff, peoples hands
are awash with harmful particles called
germs, which are so small that you can-
not see them with your naked eye (un-
less you have been drinking). One must,
therefore, wash their hands after strok-
ing pets, sneezing, blowing their nose
and scratching their armpits, nostrils or
other places.
Further, Tiffany knows the impor-
tance of washing her hands after visit-
ing Onyangos ofce, if you know what I
mean. Lazima unawe mikono ukitoka
chooni, she says.
My mboys have also learned a cou-
ple of things.
Russells favourite subject happens
to be Social Studies, which he says
mon sense in the minds of our young
learners. In the adult world, it appears
that ghting, overlapping in trafc,
texting in the middle of a sermon, ap-
plying make-up in the course of a job
interview and picking your nose in
public are common practice. But with
this kind of knowledge, my mboys are
poised to become disciplined citizens,
responsible neighbours, better spouses
and even better parents.
Masomo inafaa kuondoa ushenzi.
Creating an army of bookworms will
not help this country, says Odhiambo.
Sadly, children are still subjected to
useless stuff that will never help them.
One day, Jimmy comes home and says
he learned about the Maji Maji upris-
ing or similar nonsense. The next day,
he brags about calculating the speed of
clouds, or the gestation period of Chla-
mydomonas, or some other hoopla.
Frankly, some of the things my chil-
dren learn in school are so irrelevant
that I am considering launching a com-
plaint to the Ministry of Education.
Happily though, not all is lost for our
youngsters, and despite its numerous
aws, eight-foo-foo may not be a bad
idea, after all.
Gleaning the
crumbs of
education
Memoirs of a scribe
Era of the
scared man
I
have had occasion to remark
that if my great forebear,
Kanyonga, he who was the
proud husband and undis-
puted lord to 16 wives and countless
children, came back to life today, he
would be so dismayed by what he saw
that he would demand to immediate-
ly die again.
Unless, that is, he reincarnated as a
try. If, in the past couple of weeks, you
have not heard about mass burials of
victims of killer brews in my village, it
is only because there are no men left
to die in dramatic fashion.
What we have left are zombies
whose womenfolk long ceased think-
ing of them as men. I have told you
about my relative who recently disap-
peared from home after his wife left
him because he had ceased to play his
role as a man. There is also the case
of another relative who, after disap-
pearing for many months, sneaked
back home when the wife and chil-
dren were away tilling in the shamba,
broke into his own house and stole his
own clothes.
Devastating as deadly brews are to
There are
no men left
to die in
dramatic fashion.
the social standing and self-esteem of
men, however, perhaps an even great-
er challenge is coming from a totally
unexpected quarter. After decades of
concentrating effort and resources
on the advancement of the girl-child,
many in my village were quite unpre-
pared for the nal result and how radi-
cally it affected gender relations.
Few young men, many of whom
were almost always in a booze-in-
duced daze, gave a second thought
when their wives started talking about
taking advantage of the parallel degree
craze or joining a mid-level college to
further their education.
Then reports started trickling back
into the village about women who, af-
ter joining a university or college and
tasting freedom for the rst time in
their lives, were behaving like a starv-
ing man let loose in a hotel kitchen.
It is such a report that was weigh-
ing down on Njulio (the local version
of Julius) when he staggered into Un-
decided Leisure Resort, our one and
only watering hole, recently.
I dont know what the world is
coming to, he declared after calming
his nerves with a deep swallow of the
contents of a plastic bottle that, save
for the label, could have been Sacra-
mento Spirits.
Many of us had also heard the ru-
mours and so knew what he was refer-
ring to. Njulios wife had only married
him because, owing to boredom after
secondary school, she had allowed
him to knock her up one Sunday eve-
ning in the bushes near her home.
He had little choice but to marry
the girl after the deed. Between the
vigilant sisters at the secondary school
she attended, a stern father and early
motherhood, Njani (Jane) never had a
chance to really live.
INCREDIBLE FREEDOMS
Njulios combined income from
teaching at the local primary school,
a handful of tea bushes and the milk
from his single cow was insufcient
to provide anything beyond the mini-
mum necessities, especially consider-
ing that he also loves his daily drink.
Some time ago, however, he re-
luctantly gave in to Njanis pleas and
pressure from friends and relatives
and took out a co-operative loan to
take her to a teachers college. That
was when Njani discovered incred-
ible freedoms and men with money to
splash on starry-eyed women.
Away from the censorious eyes of
villagers, she could do as she wished.
It is even rumoured that she has had
occasion to swim in the warm waters
of the Indian Ocean while purportedly
on an ofcial college tour.
It is rumours of behaviour such as
Njanis that have men worried.
With
Benson Riungu
female. These are difcult times for the
male of the species. If they are not be-
ing blinded and killed by lethal drinks
with names like Sacramento Spirits,
they are being forced to watch as the
privileges their ancestors considered
God-given are taken away and given to
the womenfolk.
My village, Uturine, is as hard hit by
this phenomenon as any in this coun-
equips him with important social skills.
Further, the list of rules and regulations
in his school could favourably compete
with the bylaws in some counties. For
instance, shirts must be tucked in at all
times.
Pets and weapons are not allowed,
and thou shalt not wear a hat or chew
gum in class. Neither may you smoke,
use a mwakenya or talk when your el-
ders are holding a conversation.
This, in my opinion, is a practical
way of instilling discipline and com-
SUNDAY MAGAZINE /Page 13 Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard SUNDAY MAGAZINE /Page 13
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MAGAZINES
FOR THE PRICE OF
1
Buy a current issue of any international magazine
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AVAILABLE IN SELECT STORES AND SUPERMARKETS COUNTRYWIDE
Page 14/SUNDAY MAGAZINE Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard
Diaspora Destination
L
ocated strategically be-
tween the northern coast
of France and the southern
coast of England, Jersey is
one of the most attractive islands in
the English Channel. This popular
destination not only offers plenty of
sun, pristine beaches and adventure,
but also a wealth of history dating
back more than a thousand years.
The largest of the Channel Is-
lands, Jersey lies in the Bay of Mont
St Michel, and is around 8,000 years
old. It is close to France 22km from
the mainland and 161km from the
south of England.
Jersey, which has a population of
more than 100,000, is not part of the
United Kingdom, but one of the few
British Crown Dependencies with
Queen Elizabeth as the monarch. The
islands ofcial currency is the British
Pound Sterling.
The island boasts a rich history
and heritage that mixes French
and British cultures and lan-
guages on 45.5 square miles.
Its regional language is Jr-
riais, a form of Norman lan-
guage.
Jersey is also known
as a millionaires
playground, and
a tax-free haven
for foreign inves-
tors through its
offshore bank-
ing industry.
More than 40
per cent of its
economy is
dependent on
nancial ser-
vices.
The islands
capital, St Helier,
is a tranquil place
where you can enjoy
1. Mont Orgueil
Castle.
2. Shopping in
Halkett Street,
St Helier.
3. A shmonger,
at Beresford
Fish Market.
4. Holiday
makers on the
beach at St
Brelades Bay.
5. A gorilla at
Durrell Wildlife
Park.
[PHOTOS:
COURTESY, JERSEY
IMAGES/
STANDARD]
The Channel Island of Jersey is a perfect
destination for those seeking sea, sand,
sun and daredevil adventure, writes
SHAMLAL PURI
a break away from
noise and clutter of
high-rise cities such as
Paris and London.
There is an attractive shop-
ping centre with pedestrianised
streets and a mix of well-known de-
partmental stores, boutiques and
small local shops dotted around
Market Square and Halkett Street.
Top on most visitors lists is St
Brelades Bay Beach, described as
one of the best and cleanest beaches
anywhere. It retains its natural beau-
ty and is not spoilt with too many ho-
tels and restaurants.
WAR TUNNELS
Plemont Bay also offers a good
beach, rocks, pools and a waterfall.
The view of the beautiful cove is
worth a visit when the tide is low, but
keep away during high tide. There
are steep steps down the beach suit-
able for physically t people.
Coasteering at Greve de Lecq, St
Ouen, jumping rocks and sea sports
all form part of an exciting adventure
in Jersey. Coasteering is the sport of
exploring a rocky coastline by climb-
ing, jumping, and swimming. Jump-
ing between the rocks is not for the
faint-hearted.
The wealth of magnicent castles,
war tunnels and rural museums tell a
gripping story.
A holiday in Jersey is incomplete
without a visit to the war tunnels,
complete with a German under-
ground hospital, in St Lawrence. Dug
in the hills using slave labour, the
tunnels were originally meant to be
barracks, with ammunition stores
for the occupying German forces.
Also not to be missed is the me-
dieval Mont Orgueil Castle in St
Martin, positioned to protect Jersey
against French invasion. In the net-
work of stairs, towers and rooms, sto-
ries of espionage and spy networks
are brought to life.
How can one forget the exploits of
Formula One World Champion Nigel
Mansell? He remains the most suc-
cessful British Formula One driver of
all time, with 31 victories.
St Aubin in Jersey is the home of
the Mansell Collection Museum. It
has an exciting array of F1 memora-
bilia, including cars and trophies. As
you walk through the collection, the
champion himself gives an audio
commentary, giving an excellent in-
sight into his career in the fast lane.
Surprisingly, Jersey also has many
wildlife and adventure parks where
one can get closer to nature. One is
Durrell Wildlife Park, founded more
than half a century ago by the late
naturalist and author Gerald Durrell.
It is a sanctuary for more than 1,400
mammals and 100 endangered spe-
cies, living in 32 acres of gardens and
parkland. The rst to arrive there was
Npongo, an African gorilla.
Also worth a visit is La Corbiere, a
lighthouse built on the rocks, and offer-
ing picturesque views of the coastline.
Jersey is also an island of owers
because of its temperate climate and
rich soil. More than 50 per cent of the
land is agricultural, and inhabitants
mostly grow potatoes and rear cattle.
In the past, farmers sold their food
and owers in boxes placed on the
roadside with no salesmen. They
relied on the honesty of the custom-
ers to drop the correct amount of cash
into the moneybox and take the cor-
rect quantity of produce. Nowadays,
however, they have set up farm shops
and markets, such as Central Market.
Jerseys marine resources offer
rich trappings for the sheries and
aquaculture industries, earning more
than 6 million (Sh880 million) a year.
A visit to the Beresford Fish Market is
a glimpse into the variety of seafood
available in the English Channel wa-
ters; lobster, prawns crabs, octopus,
mussels, fresh mackerel and even
squid are available in plenty.
Around Christmas time, not to be
missed is a visit to La Fte d Nou
L Marchi Nouormand a Norman
French Market which takes place in St
Heliers Royal Square. It is a remark-
able way to end the year.
Whatever time you visit, there will
be something to see and do in Jersey.
shamlalpuriStandard@gmail.com
1
2
4
Ancient and modern
treasures of Jersey
3
5
SUNDAY MAGAZINE /Page 15 Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard SUNDAY MAGAZINE /Page 15
O
cean waves splash
onto the rocks
that keep Vasco da
Gamas monument
upright. The morning sun is up
and the shores of Malindi are
well dened in its splintering
light.
In the distant horizon, sher-
men in boats are bringing in their
haul from the ocean. Just above
them, falcons and other birds of
prey hover in anticipation.
They are waiting for sh
to come close to the surface of
the water, then theyll launch at
them and get a meal for the day.
A life for a life the birds have
to survive, and so do the sh,
our tour guide says with wry hu-
mour.
We are strolling along the
shoreline of the tranquil Indian
Ocean, on a walk back in history
to the time Vasco da Gama
and his men decided to pitch
camp on the East African coast.
The monument put up in his
honour, a rock hard, tower-like
slab of concrete, is conspicuous
in its snow-white exterior. Below
the pillar, manmade tunnels al-
low the oceans water to wash un-
der the pile of earth it rests on.
Then I notice an unusual phe-
nomenon: Almost a kilometre
into the water is a green eld, oval
in shape. There is no water on
it. It is so elegant-looking that it
would bring thoughts of a match
to football diehards.
The eld is formed at certain
times of the year. It doesnt hap-
pen often as the formation de-
pends on the movements of the
moon. And it also doesnt remain
visible throughout the day it
will be totally submerged by mid-
day, says the guide.
MAGIC
Is that supposed to be mag-
ic? I ask with the naivet of a
mainlander.
Not at all, the guide laughs
at my stereotypic understand-
ing of coastal happenings. Right
now, the tide is out. Soon, it will
be rushing back to submerge this
whole place, he says as he ges-
the distant shore, we spot some
tourists being assisted to navi-
gate sodden sands and the spiky
reefs dotting the walking trails.
As we amble on, the grat-
ing massage of the sand is
more than a natural treat for
feet more used to being caged
in shoes. The turquoise ocean
water is a reminder that lovers
of tropical sandy beaches dont
have to look beyond our shores
to nd a picturesque paradise. It
also shows me how visitors like
Vasco da Gama and company
would be drawn to this place.
MYSTERIES
This site is part of the Mal-
indi Museum grounds. At just
Sh100 per person, the museum
is virtually a free getaway.
Malindi Museum, also the
Tourism Information Centre for
the town, is a treasure trove of
knowledge about the surround-
ing area. The seafront building is
believed to have been put up in
the late 19th century, and has its
own interesting history, having
once housed a district ofcers
headquarters, a sheries ofce
and even a hospital.
The walk along the coast-
line unearths the mysteries of
the sea. We come across several
species of crabs, mostly hermit
crabs, scurrying around in the
sand and near small pools along
the beach.
I pick a clamshell, but the
guide asks me to put it back be-
cause it is still alive. Though it
looks like a rock-hard encasing of
nothingness, apparently there is a
living creature within.
We are asked by the authori-
ties to conserve live organisms,
the guide says. The only shells
you are allowed to collect are
those with no life.
And so, I collect a few souve-
nirs to show to my upcountry kin.
As the ocean waves continue
to pound the sand, we notice a
surge in the ripples. Every sub-
sequent wave seems heavier and
more powerful.
At noon, with the sun beating
down, we start our walk back to
the Vasco da Gama monument.
By this time, the green pitch of
nicely lying grass is no more
submerged by rising waters.
For beach rst-timers like my-
self, it is a bizarre occurrence to
witness. The guide tells me that
by evening, the whole place will
be covered with ocean water.
The shermen are rowing back
to the mainland, and commercial
motorboats are doing their nal
laps, their passengers taking in
the last rays of the sun.
Before we head to the airport
to catch our ight, we capture im-
ages of sunny Malindi to take back
to our currently rainy homes.
Malindi might not be Rio de
Janeiro, but the heat, the sun and
the view have a lasting impression
on any visitor.
By GARDY CHACHA
Seeing Malindi
through Vasco da
Gamas eyes
A life for a
life the
birds have to
survive, and
so do the sh.
After seeing Malindi from up close, it is easy
to understand why it drew ancient adven-
turers. [PHOTOS: GARDY CHACHA/STANDARD]
tures at the surrounding beach-
es.
This explanation is followed
by a rich scientic narration of
magnetic elds and the actual
size of the earth.
It is nothing I really under-
stand, but I will take it. Yonder, on
Page 16/SUNDAY MAGAZINE Sunday, May 18, 2014 / The Standard
With
Lynet Otieno
lotieno@standardmedia.co.ke
Table charger:
Sh3,000.
Wooden jewellery
box: Sh2,500.
Small
jewellery box:
Sh3,200.
Wall clock with leather framing and
wooden embellishment: Sh10,000.
Picture frame:
Sh2,800.
Medium-sized jewellery box:
Sh4,500.
Magazine rack:
Sh6,500.
Dust bin:
Sh3,500.
PHOTOS: MOSE SAMMY AND MAARUFU MOHAMED/STANDARD
WHERE: Artcoco in Nyali, Mombasa, and Blue Rhino at ABC Palace and Quinn
Peaks in Westlands, Nairobi.
Wood grain varies with tree species,
and even when items are made from
the same log, they are never exactly
alike. Who needs paint when nature
has done the artwork?
Go with
the grain