ISEBANIA: A WHISTLE STOP TRIP TO THE EDGE OF KENYA

21Feb2025

SUNRISE AT MIGORI AIRSRIP

I have the blessing of having designed the masjid in Isebania. This is on the edge of Kenya on the border with Tanzania in the Southwest.

I travel almost every month to inspect the works.

Sometimes it's a day trip and sometimes it's a night out.

So here goes. Some of my experiences.

Am off to Isebania today. We went through the brand-new Skyward Lounge at Wilson Airport. It's been tastefully designed with comfortable seating and even a Business Centre.

The staff are stiff.

No smiles. Almost angry!

Just work and no jokes. Afterall Skywards Express now belongs to the powers-that-be (we call them wenye nchi).

The departure lounge is a long space with a nice winding ceiling. A set of aesthetic-but-rather -uncomfortable wooden seats and another set of more comfortable cushioned grey seats.

We all sit facing one another awaiting the boarding announcements. Reminds me of wooden benches of a rural government hospital.

The staff are busy ferrying the various luggage towards the aircraft

Its a bustle of activity. Excited children bother their parents with frivolous questions and different pesterings. The parents oblige and answer those questions they can and ignore the other more piercing and difficult ones.

The announcement to board crackles over the rather over-loud PA system ... as if to announce itself rather than give information. Maybe the powers-that-be want it that way.

We queue.

The usual impatient ones are up and jostling to get to the top of the queue. And if, for whatever reason; they don't get their way, they jump the queue with total disregard of respect or common courtesy. I was once told, "The airline belongs to us so we can do what we want!"

Oh! Did I mention that part owners of the airline are, yes you guessed it - Somali.

I am beyond caring about people's manners or lack of them...

We board and shortly take off to head in the Westerly direction

Its a short flight. 45minutes.

Hadada Ibis

A hazy sunrise is just fading away in Migori. The sound of Superb Starlings competes with a distant caw of the Hadada Ibis. A 3-some of Sacred Ibis flies past silently - in V-formation.

Superb Starling

There is a chill in the air. The smell of last night's drizzle mixes with the rich aroma of the fertile soil.

The silence is bisected by a boda boda rushing in the direction of Kehancha. Its loud and piercing and disturbing ... but who cares? Impunity is the order of the day.

The rider is oblivious of the danger he is putting himself into let alone other road users. He is probably high on some not-very-legal substance! This part of Kenya is famous for its high quality and high yield of Cannabis Sativa.... let me not explain further! You join the dots as you wish.

As I disembark the plane, my progress is slowed down by a group of rather loud and condescending group of Americans. Since Donald Trump took over as President for his 2nd term ... there has been a marked change in attitude amongst white Americans - an attitude of entitlement, that they 'own the World'. This group is no different. And interestingly, they are all obese - maybe a result of having eaten up all the wealth they have directly and indirectly stolen from the down-trodden meek of the world. Let me remind all and sundry, that there is a God and He is watching!

I ignore them. They know not that death and judgement await them as well - no one is exempt.

Once out of the arrival lounge, I look for my host. He is late. He expected the flight to delay. This is Africa, we are used to inefficiencies, in fact we expect them and accept them as our fate.

I stop to admire the sunrise. And then stroll out of the airstrip grounds.

A group of taxi and boda boda riders are waiting for me to reach them, for they are not allowed to solicit for passengers within the airstrip grounds. And entry into the airstrip grounds also attracts a parking fee which most of them can ill afford.

One of them reaches me as I exit the weldmesh metal gate manned (in fact, more accurately, overmanned!) by two parking attendants.

Before I reach him, he asks "Mzee, can I offer you transport?" I decline. "I have transport. But how much would you charge me to Isebania?" I reply in Kiswahili.

The reply in Kiswahili is an ice-breaker, he quickly retorts "800". "Is this not too high for a 20 minute ride?"

"No, Mzee. We will talk and agree".

Its a short lived conversation because Ali pulls up in his red Toyota Rav4. I hop into the co-driver seat and he makes a U-turn on the rather deserted Migori Kehancha Highway.

MIGORI-ISEBANIA HIGHWAY

We head to Isebania via the now busy Migori Isebania Highway.

Its busy. More boda boda than cars or trucks.

Ali informs me that some of my friends are ill. One has suspected kidney stones, and another one probably has Brucellosis ... we pray for their quick recovery.

Unfortunately, most of us take good health for granted until some disease or illness strikes..

I give him encouragement for I have also recently gone through some upheavals with my health. But I am generally well.

Suddenly, we hear loud incessant hooting of shrill boda boda hoots. And within seconds a posee of at least 15 to 20 fully laden boda boda whizz past us in the opposite direction at breakneck speeds. They are carrying burdens of 2 to 3 fully filled sacks and the riders are seated almost atop the fuel tanks ... because the saddle is fully occupied by the sacks.

"These are contraband goods from Tz. And the riders are evading paying taxes and thus the urgency and total disdain to safety or the highway code." Ali explains in broken Kiswahili.

I dread to think what would happen to any one of them should he miss a bump or hit a small stone or any other minute hurdle...

We drive on.

Isebania is only 20 minutes from Migori and in no time I am on the site.

Time for inspection which lasts less than an hour.

I am starving. My glycemic readings in this past week haven't been encouraging. This means staying hungry is not good for me.

SHELL PETROL STATION & THE RED RAV4

Ali and Ahmed drive me to Abdunoor's Shell Petrol Station.

The most decent restaurant in Serare (official name of Isebania) is on the first floor here at Shell.

I order a hefty breakfast. I know I will not have lunch so I might as well up stock up for the time ahead.

THE RESTAURANT AT SHELL PETROL STATION

2.samosas. 2 boiled eggs (free range chicken eggs). 1 chapati. A simple curry of spinach. 2 cups of tea. A bottle of Keringet Springs water.

No wonder I'm not losing weight despite the thousands of steps I achieve daily.

OK. I am not complaining. I am happy. I am well. I am blessed. I have lived a full life. Now I am in bonus time.

Of course, no need to ask ... I demolish the modest meal and drinks in comfort. Alone and in silence.

Now to head back to Nairobi. This time the flight is at 245pm. From Homa Bay. A distance of some 3 hours. Passing through sugarcane plantations, lush maize farms, cassava plots and just homesteads.

MAIZE & CASSAVA FARMS. PLANTING SEASON

We drive past homesteads with banana subsistence farming interspersed with sugarcane and maize. There are hardly any very large plantations. The peoples here are humble and seem comfortable despite the lack of riches. They survive.

A large carpet of maize is being dried off along the pavement of the road. This raw maize will be taken to a mill once dried and the resultant flour will be used to cook ugali ... a staple for all Kenyans.

A few indigenous cattle browse along the roadside. Their horns tied with a sisal rope which in turn is tied to a tree stump. So that they don't stray off and get lost.

We pass a few granite rocky outcrops. These are interspersed with small subsistence gardens. Every available piece of earth is valuable in this overpopulated part of Kenya.

Indigenous and exotic trees are in full bloom too. The Tipuana Tipu trees (Pride of Bolivia) are in full bloom of yellow flowers. 

Pride of Bolivia Trees on the roadside

A line of Green Heart (Ficus) defines the boundary of a homestead .... I pity the owner; for these trees' roots are mega destructive. Croton Trees dot the highway at regular intervals. Exotic timber trees such the Silver Birch and Eucalyptus planted later also abound.

Mud brick buildings line the highway.

Old mud brick huts sit comfortably next to newer ones

A Nissan miraa van passes at full speed. A new trade here because it is banned in Tz.

A steady stream of boda bodas whizz past on both sides of the road. Most of them are carrying goods or at least 2 or more pillion passengers per bike.

In the absence of a proper public transport system, boda bodas fill the gap with an efficient but lawless yet extremely vital service.

Presently we reach Migori Town. And Migori river passes right through the town. The bridge across the river is shared by pedestrians, livestock, boda boda and vehicular traffic. Migori Town is built around hills. Akin to a small Kampala. Roadside traders line the entire main road that dissects the town. This is an ancient but busy town with predominantly Luo people - a noble tribe of Nilotic peoples.

As we leave Migori Town we now enter Sugarcane country - dotted with plantations. The highway now has many Tractors pulling trailers ladden to brims with stalks of cane. Some broken down tractors are abandoned and pose a road hazard. Others trudging the inclines and causing a mini snarl up in rural Kenya.

Probox matatus now appear from seemingly nowhere, throwing caution to the wind and overtaking on the 3rd lane after the climbing lanes. The driver of the probox is half out of his door, his arm resting in the open window (somewhat like the cowboys of wild west riding their horses holding the bridle with a single hand the other hand nursing a cigar or pistol or rifle)

Its chaotic!

Before too long I notice a Turkish flag flapping away in the mild breeze and seering heat. Yes, they have reached these distant lands as well. A small blue painted mosque sits upon the ridge.

Rivers are flowing westwards to Lake Victoria. The banks are lined with bicycles and mobikes with yellow jerycans. In this land of plenty there is glaring (and shameful) lack of piped water. The politicians hop into and out of their constituencies with USD2000 per hour choppers as the common man wallows in poverty. And when the chopper lands they rush to shake his or her hand ever so hopeful for a handout which rarely exceeds Kshs 500 per person.

The common man is brainwashed to believe that this is the best his situation will ever be. He is further subdued by excessive taxes and kept forever under threat that should he or she uprise then consequences will be dire not just to him/her but to his and her people for generations to come! Rule by creating fear!

Does this ring a bell of similarity with slavery ... this time the slavers are our own people. Our own blood and flesh!

We enter Homa Bay County at 1215pm.

Its hot.

A distant faint smell of fresh fish rents the air.

A herd of indigenous cattle trots slowly toward a stream (more like a gutter). The semi naked herdsboy follows behind diligently. A long straight cane in his hand. The smell of cowdung mixes with the heat. Its a familiar and not so strange mixture in most of rural Africa.

He whistles at a straying cow. No response. He picks a small stone and accurately hurls it at the straying animal and hits in the rump. Accurate marksman! It works. The cow quickly rejoins her mates in the herd.

A flamboyant tree in resplendent full bloom with its scarlet flowers breaks the greenery of homesteads. This is ideal warm climate for this beautiful tree. Reminds me of home - Mombasa!

Flamboyant Tree

We reach Rodi. Roadside traders brave the 32deg heat to sell their wares. Apart from mitumba, electronics, and horticulture goods, they also sell sukari nguru - jaggery. This is a sugar substitute used largely in the production of local brew. But can also be used as a sugar substitute.

The road is busy. This hinterland is populated. There is no empty space. Kenya is almost full!

At Kabunde Airstrip ... we are an hour early. They haven't opened the check-in counters so the security check is also shut.

The Terminal Building @ Kabunde Airstrip

So a good opportunity for me to clock in more steps, for I haven't achieved my goal of at least 10k steps a day.

The ample grassed parking slope is adequate for my walk which I do with zeal.

A small yellow butterfly commonly known as 'Little Sulphur' (scientific name: Eurema Lisa) flutters past from one flower to the other. Pollination complete. He then flutters off to other distant flowers.

Little Sulphur Butterfly

A land breeze dries the sweat on my nape. Its refreshing.

In my mind I am ruing the missed jumaa prayer...today will be the 2nd Friday in a row.

I say a silent prayer in my mind seeking forgiveness for this.

On my third lap, I notice one of the airline staff, a Muslim man walk towards me heading for the main road.

'Assalamu aleikum Bro. Are you going for Jumaa prayers?' I greet and ask him.

'Yes, yes. Let us go. We have time."

Ali the manager takes me for Jumaa prayers.

The masjid is full. The khutba today is about Ramadhan which is one week away.

I'm grateful for the Jumaa salah today. If I had missed this salah, it would have been a miss of 2 weeks in a row..

After the salah, we head back to Kabunde Airstrip for the check-in to the flight back to Nairobi.

Its been a fruitful journey. A successful one

Happily...