Spotted land teeming with life

Kenya | Anno 2009

 

Wednesday, July 15 | Lake Nakuru NP – Masai Mara National Reserve

Thursday, July 16 | Masai Mara National Reserve

Friday, July 17 | Masai Mara National Reserve – Enkereri – Isebania

 

 

Wednesday, July 15 | Lake Nakuru NP – Masai Mara National Reserve

Nowhere else on this planet does wildlife unfold so massively, so spectacularly, and so openly as in the Masai Mara and the Serengeti, the open savannah lands straddling the border between Kenya and Tanzania. For nature lovers, merely hearing those iconic names evokes images of endless grasslands, majestic elephants, confident lions, graceful giraffes, stalking cheetahs, migrating wildebeests, and skittish impalas. Last Saturday, as we left Nairobi, our guide Newton proudly announced that the wildebeest migration had begun. This was excellent news, as it means we’ll witness entire herds in the Masai Mara – up to one to one and a half million wildebeests, we were told.

 

 

Our expectations are high as we exit Lake Nakuru National Park through Nderit Gate. It takes no more than two minutes for the wilderness, where animals roam freely, to give way to inhabited huts and cultivated fields. This speaks volumes about the growing tension between population growth and nature conservation.

 

It takes no more than two minutes for the wilderness to give way to inhabited huts and cultivated fields

 

Along a narrow, unpaved road, we ascend out of the Great Rift Valley with Daniel and Peter at the wheel of our safari jeeps. Everywhere we go, cheerful faces beam at us, flashing their bright white teeth as soon as they spot us. Children on their way to school, toddlers in front of the huts – all eagerly wave at the pale tourists. Men with donkey carts head off to fetch water from distant places. On the fertile hills, every suitable plot is cultivated. We pause briefly in the midst of the cornfields.

 

Olore Gift Shop – Wood carving

For a moment, a stretch of paved road near Mau Narok lifts our spirits, but that joy is short-lived. It is twenty past nine when we cross Sansora Ridge, at 2 743 m the highest point of our journey. Now, we descend through rolling hills amidst fields and villages filled with cheerful faces. After about half an hour, the road unexpectedly turns into a wide asphalt strip. For fifteen kilometres, not a single pothole can be found on the impeccable surface of the C57.

 

Farms, corn fields

With still over eighty kilometres to go, we continue our journey via the C12 to Ewaso Ng'iro, a small town on the banks of the Southern Ewaso Ng’iro River, after a quick fuel stop in Narok. The lush greenery on the slopes of Mount Kenya is no longer visible here, and cacti even appear along the road. Just before eleven, the Olore Gift Shop gives our stiff limbs a brief respite.

 

 

The landscape becomes increasingly dry, with shrubs sometimes reaching no higher than knee height. More than forty kilometres from Masai Mara, the paved road is definitively left behind. All vehicles are reduced to anonymous dark dots in the gigantic dust clouds they carry with them.

 

Masai Mara National Reserve

Just after twelve, we are itching with impatience at Sekenani Gate, one of the eastern access points to Masai Mara National Reserve. The local Masai have named this area spotted land, as the pale grassland is dotted with dark spots of trees and shrubs. This park, with an area of 1 510 km², is one of the most visited parks in Kenya, and without exaggeration, it is one of the archetypal safari parks. Moreover, it is just an extension of the famous Serengeti in Tanzania.

Nowhere else on this planet does wildlife unfold so massively, so spectacularly, and so openly as in the Masai Mara and the Serengeti

Thomson’s gazelles

The famous Mara River runs through the park. Every year in July and August, the massive migration of wildebeest takes place here. The enormous herds then leave the dry Serengeti and head north in search of lusher grasslands. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps even a million wildebeest, can then be seen here.

The Masai giraffe is distinguished from the reticulated giraffe mainly by the jagged edges of its brown patches and its size

Masai giraffe

Just past the gate lies the Sekenani Health Centre. We're quite interested in how a modern dispensary operates in this remote region. Not without pride, Jeremy, the public health officer, Robert, the nurse, and Betty, the lab technician, show us the facilities. A plaque next to the door indicates that two Dutchmen, Hans Snijders and Paul Van Aubel, were responsible for its funding.

 

Elephants

Small, tidy rooms serve as consultation rooms, injection rooms, a pharmacy, delivery room. Serious cases are treated in a separate ward while awaiting transport to Narok, 87 km away along the dusty C12. The laboratory is well equipped, featuring a scale, a professional microscope, a centrifuge, and a butane-powered fridge to store vaccines. Bilingual posters on the walls aim to convince visitors of the need for preventive measures – safely feeding the young baby, making water drinkable, disinfecting the earthen walls of huts, and treating HIV in pregnant women.

Bilingual posters on the walls aim to convince visitors of the need for preventive measures

Through the gently rolling, pale-yellow grasslands we continue our drive. The park is teeming with life – Thomson's gazelles, elephants, giraffes, wildebeest... Right at one o'clock, we stop at Keekorok Lodge and immediately check into our rooms. Our terrace overlooks the wilderness, where a handful of elephants stride majestically through the endless savannah grass.

 

Hippo pool

Dominant male

The hippo pool just behind the lodge is home to around thirty-five hippos. Most of them are sunbathing by the pool, while some seek relief in the water. A dominant male with a bad temper threatens anyone who comes too close to him in the water. A mother, with a baby on either side of her, remains very calm and avoids any confrontation. A few yellow-billed storks watch on, undisturbed.

 

Wildebeest

Four o’clock – safari time. Like angry horseflies, around twenty vans and jeeps sit with engines running, waiting for action. For quite some time, nothing happens, as if the abundant wildlife has vanished into thin air. Only after forty-five minutes do we finally encounter wildebeest. For now, there aren’t hundreds of thousands, but at least three – a small preview of the million we expect to see tomorrow.

 

Purple grenadier		Superb starling
Rueppell's long-tailed starling		Brimstone canary

Then we spot our very first Masai giraffe. It is distinguished from the reticulated giraffe mainly by the jagged edges of its brown patches and its size – males can grow to over six meters tall. Shortly afterward, we notice elephants, three groups, each with five to ten individuals.

 

Yellow-billed storks, woolly-necked stork

But a crackling voice over the CB radio reports the presence of lions nearby, and Daniel takes off at top speed. Seven lions are either resting under the bushes or lying lazily on their backs in the tall grass. Five vans are already parked around them, but the animals are barely visible.

Frustrated, Daniel decides to head back to the elephants, though not before scolding a Japanese tourist who was driving through the park alone in a 4WD. In his inexperience, the tourist honked loudly – a cardinal sin in this environment.

 

Thomson’s gazelle (m)

The elephants are still making their way through the bushes near a waterhole. Now the CB radio reports cheetahs. Across the rolling savannah, we can already see ten vans gathered in the distance at the spot. So that’s another miss. Daniel decides to keep this option in mind for later. No two safaris are alike, we realise, as we recall the relative calm of Samburu.

 

Secretarybirds

Secretarybird

We drive in the opposite direction and soon come across a pair of secretarybirds. The large birds of prey stride proudly through the savannah. They can grow up to 1,2 meters tall. Snakes, reptiles, birds, and even small mammals won't feel safe with these impressive hunters nearby. The feathers on their heads resemble pens tucked behind their ears, which explains their name.

 

Cheetah

Lioness

For a moment, a saddleback jackal and a group of Thomson's gazelles provide some entertainment, but it's the cheetahs from earlier that are on our minds. Daniel finally decides to go check them out, but it quickly becomes clear that the cheetahs are barely visible, resting in the shade of a bush some distance from the road.

 

Cheetah

Then the CB reports two lions in the area. Once again, Daniel springs into action. Only four vans are parked there. One of the lions emerges from behind the bushes and stretches out photogenically on a hill, as if posing just for us.

 

Lioness

Once again, Daniel heads back to the cheetahs. Third time's the charm. Both cheetahs are still lounging shamelessly behind the bush, but as the air cools, they seem willing to rise and find a slightly sunnier spot to settle down. There they wrestle a bit with their heads against each other. Chasing something to eat, they don't feel like it for the time being.

 

Cheetahs wrestling

The safari is coming to an end. At least, that's what we think, but Daniel makes one last detour. A large vulture is perched on an acacia tree, scanning the surroundings. Daniel expertly finds the perfect spot at just the right moment for one of those archetypal images of Africa – the yellow-white sun disc against the orange glow of the evening sky, complete with a black acacia silhouette in the foreground.

 

Hooded vulture on acacia

Keekorok Lodge has no fences – being close to nature is the motto here. So it’s no surprise that upon our return, we find zebras grazing between the standalone lodges. Other four-legged creatures sometimes make their appearance among the lodges as well. For safety, everyone who ventures to their room in the darkness after dinner is accompanied by a night watchman. Shortly after half past ten, a hippo grazes quietly on the lawn behind our room.

 

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Thursday, July 16 | Masai Mara National Reserve

Today, that mythical herd of one million wildebeest will not escape us. There's no better way to track these animals than with a hot air balloon. If they are indeed out there, we will surely spot them from the air. So, incredibly early, we push aside the mosquito net. Just before five, we climb into Nicolas' jeep in complete darkness. An armed park ranger takes his seat at the front. What he will protect us from is still unclear at this point.

A hippo quickly scuttles away as it is caught in the headlights

High in the sky, the moon in its last quarter casts a faint glow over the savannah. A hippo quickly scuttles away as it is caught in the headlights. A trio of hyenas, however, is unbothered and stands proudly staring at the approaching jeep. A handful of impalas hardly seem disturbed.

Fig Tree Camp, our destination, is located about twenty kilometres to the north along the banks of the Talek River. One of the three operators of balloon flights in the Masai Mara has set up their base camp here. We are served coffee and cake, along a detailed waiver that holds us personally liable for just about anything that may happen to us before, during and after the flight.

 

Until just half an hour ago, he was considering cancelling the flight due to strong winds

 

Still in complete darkness, we walk to the spot where the balloons are being prepared for launch. This time, there’s no armed escort, as we have already paid for the balloon flight.

Two balloons lie spread out on the ground. One is half-inflated with cold air, while the other is still flat. In the east, the sky is beginning to lighten slightly. Balloonist Mike introduces himself. What we don’t know is that until just half an hour ago, he was considering cancelling the flight due to strong winds.

Now that the wind has died down, Mike goes for it. Yet, with the balloon still lying on the ground, he brings some ballast on board for safety’s sake – namely six passengers with a sufficiently high BMI – before lighting the four propane burners. Should a strong wind suddenly pick up, the ballast reduces the risk of the balloon being caught in a gust. Huh? What does he mean by reduces the risk? Is there a chance that we will be flying without Mike?

 

Peacefully, we glide westward toward the Mara

Just before half-past six, Mike ignites one of the four burners. With a deafening roar, the flame shoots through the funnel-shaped opening, quickly heating the air inside the balloon. Just a few minutes later, the massive structure stands upright, thankfully without immediately soaring into the sky. Mike and the other passengers quickly climb aboard. Exactly six minutes after the first burner is ignited, the basket lifts off the ground.

In the east, the sun still hasn’t shown itself. However, there is already enough light to survey the savannah far and wide. Seven balloons are seen floating in the sky – two from Fig Tree Camp, two from Serena Hill in the west, and three from a base camp located further south.

 

Sunrise over the Mara

Peacefully, we glide westward toward the Mara, the river that became world-famous through images from BBC and National Geographic of wildebeest risking their lives as they cross the tumultuous waters, dodging fearsome crocodiles.

 

Wildebeest and zebras

Cruising speed is 27 kilometres per hour, with a maximum altitude of 700 meters, Mike informs us. However, we typically hover a bit lower to get a better view of the animals. That is, if there are any. It takes over half an hour before we spot the first mammals. There are hundreds of them – wildebeest, zebras, and topis.

 

Both wildebeest and zebras prefer to traverse the savannah in long lines. This is an instinctive defence strategy

We can even spot a solitary hyena. It can hardly suppress its appetite for wildebeest, but the herd collectively positions itself with their noses facing it as a defence. That signal is unmistakable – the wildebeest are ready for a confrontation. The hyena decides to seek easier prey instead.

Both wildebeest and zebras prefer to traverse the savannah in long lines. This is an instinctive defence strategy because if they moved in a compact group, a predator would only need to leap into the mass to catch an individual. However, when the prey walks neatly in single file, if the predator miscalculates its jump, it ends up beside the line in the savannah grass.

 

Topis

Zebras

Wildebeest

Topis are completely new for us. You often see these are large, sturdy antelopes resting on the ground with their noses in the sand. They do this to prevent flies from laying eggs in their noses. If larvae were to hatch, they would make their way to the topis brain to feast on it. That's why topis stick their noses in the sand, according to Mike.

Of course, that’s a bit of an oversimplification. No topi will think, Oops, a fly! I’d better stick my nose in the sand, or else my brain is lost. Natural selection has resulted in topis that inadvertently avoided dangerous flies by sticking their noses in the sand. This behaviour spared them from brain damage, allowing them to pass on their genes to future generations. In contrast, topis that carelessly kept their noses up in the air have long been extinct.

 

There are hundreds of them – wildebeest, zebras, and topis

The shadows of our balloons glide silently over the savannah. However, our presence doesn’t go unnoticed by the animals below; every time the burners are ignited, they startle.

Exactly one hour after take-off, we land. We're in the middle of the savannah, but that doesn't stop two trucks from appearing out of nowhere, each carrying eight crew members. One team begins packing up the balloons, while the other sets up a breakfast buffet under the only acacia tree visible for miles around. While we wait, driver Sammy loads the 26 passengers from both balloons onto his truck for a short safari ride through the savannah.

The breakfast buffet that unfolds behind a windscreen is impeccably arranged – eggs, toast, pancakes, bacon, sausages, potatoes, beans in tomato sauce, cereals, fresh fruit... Three long tables are laid out in the low savannah grass, complete with tablecloths. Uniformed staff – white shirts, red jackets, black pants – hurry to attend to our needs. Champagne flows freely, and gin and tonic await as a digestive. That breakfast would be offered after the flight, we knew, but we certainly didn’t expect this!

Learning only ends when you're dead, Ken concludes philosophically

Ken

Waterbuck

So generous is waiter Ken with the champagne that soon we might only be seeing pink elephants – and twice as many animals as everyone else. By profession, Ken is a teacher; English and mathematics were his subjects. However, the government paid salaries three to four months late. That’s why he quit. Serving champagne to pale tourists in a red jacket at dawn under an acacia tree in the savannah certainly pays much better, he confirms with a chuckle.

Once, it was his dream to study law, but his parents couldn’t afford it. Now he is thirty-five, but he hasn’t given up hope. Learning only ends when you’re dead, he philosophizes. His story serves as a fitting antidote to the decadent theatre in which we unexpectedly find ourselves playing a starring role.

 

Waterbuck, impala male with harem

Nearly two hours after landing, we leave the surreal scene behind. Sammy drives us back to Fig Tree Camp. From there, we continue our quest for the mythical herd of one million wildebeest with Peter and Daniel.

 

Warthogs graze on their knees

At first, we have to settle for some impalas and warthogs, but then a martial eagle makes its appearance. It’s the largest eagle in Africa, with a wingspan that can reach 2,5 meters in an adult. Photogenic, it stays within the range of our lenses before soaring away in a wide arc over our heads.

The martial eagle is the largest eagle in Africa, with a wingspan that can reach 2,5 meters

Martial eagle

 

Hippos

We briefly step out onto the high bank of the Talek River to observe a handful of hippos below in the water. The surface reveals no more than six pairs of eyes, ears, and nostrils peeking above the surface.

 

Masai giraffes

 

Twelve Masai giraffes unknowingly show us that grace and size can coexist. A pair of ostriches – a black male and a grey female – turn their backs to us. Their rounded bodies appear to glide over the tall grass.

 

Ostriches (f and m)

We’re making great progress now. First, we encounter ten times as many wildebeests as yesterday – about thirty – and then we spot a herd of perhaps a hundred wildebeests down among the hills. The million is certainly not far off now.

 

Wildebeest in the open savannah

Golden eagle

As our jeeps jolt through a river full of dangerous rocks, a golden eagle watches from a tree, observing how well we manage. A pair of Egyptian geese feel secure on the rocks. A red-headed rock agama basks in the sunlight. This is one of the most colourful lizards, with its striking orange head, beautifully blue body adorned with light spots, and its long, ringed tail – alternating dark blue and light blue. A cheetah calmly stares at us from beneath a bush.

 

Egyptian geese

Cheetah

River crossings

We regularly see groups of several dozen wildebeests grazing in the rolling landscape, sometimes accompanied by zebras. However, we've given up hope of seeing truly large herds. It’s likely that the migration has not yet fully started, and the majority of the wildebeests are still on the other side of the border in the Serengeti. We’ll probably be able to confirm that starting tomorrow.

 

You often see topis resting on the ground with their noses in the sand. They do this to prevent flies from laying eggs in their noses

Topis

Topis with their noses in the sand

Right next to the road, fourteen topis are present, giving us the opportunity to observe these remarkable animals we saw earlier from the air. Their colour palette is surprising, yet not unappealing – ochre-yellow calves, blue-black hips, mahogany-brown fur, and long blue-black snouts. The topis resting on the ground indeed have their noses in the sand, just as Mike described this morning.

It’s half past noon when we retreat under a solitary acacia with our well-stocked lunch packs. Peter first takes a quick tour of the area to make sure there are no hungry carnivores around who would dare to put us on their menu.

 

 

Through the expansive rolling grassland, we continue our journey northward. There they are, finally, near the Musiara Swamp – the wildebeests. They number in the thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands. As far as the eye can see, they are grazing in a 360° circle around us. Zebras are abundant as well, alongside topis, Thomson's gazelles, elands, and the obligatory warthogs. A hyena strolls among the wildebeests, but not a single grazer pays any attention to the solitary predator.

 

There they are, finally, near the Musiara Swamp – the wildebeests. They number in the thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands

Here and there, topi males stand rigidly on an elevated spot, closely observing the surroundings

That shortly later, the only grey cloud visible in the blue sky happens to release part of its load directly above our jeep, cannot dampen our enthusiasm.

 

Musiara Swamp – Wildebeest

Zebras in watchful rest

Here and there, topi males stand rigidly on a termite mound or another elevated spot, closely observing the surroundings. This way, they aim to protect their harem from any approaching danger.

 

Mountain bongos

Even a few hundred cows are grazing on the savannah grass. Apparently, the Masai have grazing rights here. Their belief teaches them that their god once granted all the animals on earth to the Masai. The logical consequence of this is that a Masai is allowed to claim any animal, even if non-Masai would call that cattle theft.

 

Wildebeest

Young zebra

Cattle breeding among the Masai

A heavy downpour forces us to close the roof shutters. The safari seems to be coming to an end. In the pouring rain, we reach Fig Tree Camp.

 

Talek – Masai women in colourful costumes at the market

 

For now, the village of Talek has been spared from the rain. The market is quite busy. Textiles are spread out on mats on the ground. Slim, tall Masai women in colourful traditional attire are inspecting and comparing the goods, engaged in lively discussions, sometimes with a mobile phone in hand. They have adorned themselves with colourful jewellery, usually made of plastic beads – heavy earrings, long necklaces, wide bracelets, and sometimes a beaded belt.

 

 

Barely a quarter of an hour passes before the rain finds us at the market and drives us back into the jeeps. In the park, the unpaved dirt roads have turned into pure mud tracks. Still, Daniel keeps up a good pace, though his mood seems to be on a low simmer. Almost every bend is accompanied by a short skid. He regularly cuts off pieces of road right through the savannah. Zigzagging across the road, he skids past deep holes.

 

Two young cheetahs – likely brothers – are feasting on the remains of a Thomson's gazelle they have just taken down

Suddenly, he dives into the grassland, and to our surprise, presents us with a cheetah kill. Two young cheetahs – likely brothers – are feasting on the remains of a Thomson's gazelle they have just taken down. They seem completely unfazed by our presence. What they do fear are lions, leopards, and hyenas. Cheetahs are built for speed, not strength. If confronted by one of their stronger competitors, they cannot defend their meal and must relinquish their prize. Thus, for cheetahs, the message is clear: eat quickly.

 

Cheetahs with carcass of Thomson's gazelle

 

Now that Daniel can add this find to his accomplishments, he seems calmed and is in great spirits again. The fact that the safari has lasted longer than initially agreed upon doesn't seem to bother him anymore.

It's five o'clock when we arrive at Keekorok Lodge. The lush, green grass between the lodges continues to attract wildlife, especially in the evening – zebras, impalas, and a hippo. Later in the night, lions are even reported nearby.

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Friday, July 17 | Masai Mara National Reserve – Enkereri – Isebania

For wildebeests, zebras, and other four-legged creatures crossing the border is no problem. East Africans also encounter no obstacles. But for foreign tourists wishing to travel from Kenya to Tanzania? That’s a different story. They need stamps in their passports, which are only available in the distant Isebania.

A busy border crossing in the heart of two nature parks would be ecologically irresponsible

So we have a journey of over four hundred and fifty kilometres ahead of us, partly on unpaved roads, completely around the Masai Mara and Serengeti, to arrive tonight at a location about a hundred kilometres from our starting point. But who cares, as nearly half of that route runs through nature parks? Moreover, a busy border crossing in the heart of two nature parks would be ecologically irresponsible, and we are well aware of that.

Zebras graze peacefully between the lodges, and baboons have taken over the footpath as we leave Keekorok Lodge behind. Via the E176, we will cross the western half of the Masai Mara.

In the distance, a solitary hot air balloon floats above the grassland. Next to the road stands a cell tower disguised as a tree. All alone in the savannah, an armed soldier keeps watch, his post marked by four antelope skulls. Our driver-guide Peter has brought some recent newspapers for him, as these soldiers in the savannah remain cut off from all news, he says. And it’s always useful to befriend men with guns.

 

Wildebeest

A gigantic herd of wildebeests crosses the road. On a distant slope across the river, the wildebeests appear as a dark mass. Peter takes a small detour through the savanna to point out a boundary marker. So close we are to the border with Tanzania, and yet so far away.

 

Hippos in the Mara near Purungat Bridge

 

Around eight o'clock, we reach the Purungat Bridge over the Mara. Three groups of about ten hippos each keep quiet in the brown water. There is no sign of wildebeests crossing the river. Moreover, the water is normally at least five meters higher at this time of year. Spectacular National Geographic scenes of wildebeests struggling in the high water trying to escape from crocodiles are therefore not on the horizon. We have to settle for the satisfied grunts of the wildebeests that have safely crossed the river.

 

On the gentle slopes of Nolmaiman and Noontenterani, large herds of hundreds of wildebeest are gathered. Sometimes they cross our path

West of the Mara, on the gentle slopes of Nolmaiman and Noontenterani, large herds of hundreds of wildebeest are gathered. Sometimes they cross our path.

 

Spotted hyenas

Right next to the road, a troop of spotted hyenas lies in their lair. Lazily, they bask in the early rays of the sun. The fact that we observe the formidable predators up close does not seem to bother them at all. The scene radiates a false sweetness, as if we are dealing with a bunch of innocent puppies. But they’re ruthless murderers.

 

Spotted hyena

Spotted hyena on the lookout

Young spotted hyenas

With spotted hyenas, it is the females who call the shots, according to Peter. They are also slightly larger than the males. Their clitoris has evolved into a pseudo-penis, which complicates copulation. Without the cooperation of the female, the male will not be able to mate. In this matriarchal society, the females decide when and with whom they want to mate. Nevertheless, they give birth to young every year.

 

The view of the rolling savanna under the cloudless sky is absolutely stunning

Just after half past nine, we stop at Mara Serena Safari Lodge on the Limutu Hill. The 1 625 m high peak rises about a hundred meters above the plains. The view of the rolling savanna under the cloudless sky is absolutely stunning.

 

Masai Mara seen from Limutu Hill

We continue our journey northward along a muddy track. A sign indicates that this road is closed in wet weather. Undoubtedly, this is the favourite route of Daniel, the driver-guide of the other jeep. Just after nine o'clock, we reach Oloololo Gate, all the way in the northeast corner of the park. We leave the Masai Mara National Reserve behind and climb away from the plains via a bumpy, rocky path.

 

Siria Plateau – Enkereri

 

On the edge of the Siria Plateau, overlooking the Masai Mara, the long-awaited school in Enkereri suddenly comes into view. Promptly, we dig out the notebooks and pencils we bought in Nakuru. The headmaster and his wife greet us in traditional attire. Around the school, several herds graze under the watchful eyes of shepherds.

The joyful shouts of excited children greet us through the open windows and doors. There are three classes here, as Ms. Jacky explains: a kindergarten class, a first grade, and a second grade, with about 70 children in total. She is hardly audible over the enthusiastic noise in the background.

Sending children so far to school in an area where wild animals roam was no small feat

The school has been in existence for five years now and serves two neighbouring Masai villages. Previously, these children had to walk two hours to reach the school in Mara Rianda across the river. Sometimes that was even impossible because the river water was so high that the bridge was flooded. Sending children so far to school in an area where wild animals roam was also no small feat, just as it was not easy to convince parents that their daughters should go to school as well. But nowadays, this is becoming increasingly successful.

 

Ms. Jacky's kindergarten class

In the kindergarten class, 38 children are waiting for us, some of them sitting six to a bench. They even appear to be wearing a uniform – a brown-red pullover with a blouse underneath that has a red gingham pattern. The young ones seem deeply impressed by the strange visit. Jacky has them sing a song.

 

Kindergarten – Six on a Bench

In the second grade, Ms. Leena holds sway over just twelve students. Social studies is the subject of the lesson, as we read in large chalk letters on the board. Specifically, the problems faced by education in Kenya – (a) lack of money, (b) lack of teachers, (c) lack of classrooms, (d) lack of desks, chairs, books, and tables, we read. In short, a lack of just about everything; that is the message they want to convey to the tourists.

In short, a lack of just about everything; that is the message this school wants to convey to the tourists

Kindergarten

ISaAq writes his name on the board (second grade)

But first, the students perform a polyphonic version of If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands, just for us. Then Ms. Leena asks a question. David raises his hand, stands next to his desk, and mutters the correct answer. At least, that's what we suspect, since we can’t understand a word of it, but as a reward, he gets to write his name on the board. It turns into DAIVID. The scenario repeats itself; other names appear on the board, each in their own eclectic script – LOGOTY, ISaAq, YiaMat. But they can write, and they are rightly very proud of that.

 

Second grade with Ms. Leena

Actually, the third classroom primarily serves as the office and teachers' room. However, due to space constraints, the sixteen first graders have also found a home here. Slogans on the classroom walls illustrate where they like to get their inspiration – Yes, we can and In God we trust. Today, Ms. Lea is teaching math there. Immediately, we can rack our brains over a pressing question on the board: What is the next number: 1, 3, 5, ...?

 

The headmaster and his wife

Just before ten o'clock, we leave the school with its dedicated teachers. We shouldn’t judge the situation too optimistically, Peter nuances our feel-good experience. In a typical family with, for example, three sons and three daughters, it is likely that two boys and one girl will be sent to school. The smartest son is kept at home – after all, he already knows enough and will later inherit the herd. And the two girls must help with household chores. Furthermore, all boys and girls here undergo circumcision between the ages of twelve and fifteen.

The smartest son is kept at home – after all, he already knows enough and will later inherit the herd

Through a tree-rich, fertile environment, we follow the unpaved C13 westward. The crops in the many maize fields often look quite dry. Gold is mined here on an industrial scale – hence there is electricity in this area – but it is not Kenyans, but Indians who find work in the mines, according to Peter.

 

Kirange River

About half an hour later, we arrive in Lolgorian. Here and there, huts line the road, and we occasionally encounter Masai herders with their herds – mainly cows, but also goats. We cross the Kirange River with its densely forested banks. A woman is doing laundry by herself while her two children watch from a tree stump.

Crossing the Kihansi River brings us into the land of the Kuria, a tiny ethnic group. Ethnic problems no longer exist in Kenya, according to Peter. However, the fact that he keeps a knife with a blade of about thirty centimetres within reach in the jeep seems to contradict that claim.

Around a quarter past eleven, we drive into Nyanchabo, which is also the land of the Luo, the tribe to which Barack Obama’s father belonged. Just a few minutes later, we find ourselves on the A1, a gem of an asphalt road that takes us south. However, we can’t enjoy it for long, as we arrive in Isebania a quarter of an hour later, the border crossing between Kenya and Tanzania. We learn here that corruption is being tackled decisively in Kenya – with posters and a real box for anti-corruption ideas.

Ethnic problems no longer exist in Kenya, according to Peter. Yet he keeps a knife with a blade of about thirty centimetres within reach in the jeep

At a good pace, our travel documents are stamped with the necessary approvals. Just under fifteen minutes later, we’re on our way to the Tanzanian border post. Here ends our Kenyan adventure. For now, at least, as we will be exploring northern Tanzania over the next few days before returning to Nairobi in about five days. We gratefully bid farewell to Peter and Daniel; their job is done.

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Jaak Palmans

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