WAJIR: A TALE OF HEAT, DUST & WORK

 

19 March 2025

WAJIR: A TALE OF HEAT, DUST AND WORK

"Traveling – it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller." - Ibn Battuta

A mundane street in the outskirts of Wajir Township

Its the 19th of the blessed month of Ramadhan 1446AH ....

equivalent to 19March 2025.

Ramadhan is moving fast; as it always does!

Its a dreary day.

A constant drizzle has now changed into steady rain.

The smell of rain falling on the parched dust - the petrichor is invigorating but the depressed light is making this morning quite wintery.

January, February and early March have been searingly hot....dry, dusty, biting heat!

Temperatures in Nairobi have surpassed 32celcius on an almost daily basis!

The absence of any large water body means a total lack of humidity, so the heat is dry, penetrating heat.

And the resultant dust.

Mix this all up with diesel and petrol fumes.

And for good measures, throw in the noise, the din of boda bodas, matatus, the shrill music systems mounted on the boda bodas, the touts calling out to all and none.

And if this isn't enough, add the stagnant water in clogged storm drains, the overflowing sewers and boundary walls splattered with tell-tale signs of urine...

In some cases, rats larger than cats can be seen scurrying into and out of crevices in the long forgotten and ignored drains.

The rains will change this momentarily!

But all said and done, this remains home.

Home sweet home.

And in one way or another we all contribute to this status, this organised chaos!

Back to where I'm headed today. Wajir.

Its a day trip.

I'm travelling light.

No backpack, no duffle bag, no laptop, no nothing!

Just me, my reading glasses and my mobile phones.

I am good to go.

I have my boarding pass.

Seat no. 13A. Deliberately chosen. Back left! The intention is to snooze the entire 75minutes flight....

The drizzle is intermittent.

Surprisingly, there are few women and children.

More men.

A Cushitic looking man is seated along the rear row. He is seeping and hiding a cup of coffee and munching away at what looks like a bun ... its Ramadhan, for God's sake!

Maybe he isn't Muslim, maybe!

No judgements to be passed. (Mathew 7:1)

Maybe he is unwell?

I delete that line of thought___

Reboot to another line of thought.

My tummy rumbles ...

I am bloated.

Maybe the suhur I had at 430am?

Ramadhan is normally abit tricky on the gut....but it remains the most blessed month and no regrets at all for all the tiny hurdles that come with it: these hurdles, challenges and endeavours are the essence and blessings of this holiest of times for us.

Boarding is announced.

The drizzle has become a heavy downpour now.

We rush across the apron between small and slightly larger aircraft.

I'm wearing a fez. This helps my head, but my shoulders and thighs are already wet!

A queue has formed at the stairway into the plane.

The boarding passes have to be checked before entry is allowed.

Meanwhile, inside the plane, the stewardesses are behaving very official and taking their sweet time explaining seat positions to each and every passenger.

I shelter below the wing of an aircraft - registration no. 5Y RND; and watch the queueing passengers get a mandatory rain bath!

I rush in after everyone else has boarded. Afterall mine is the last seat, back left! But do i say!

Surprise surprise! Both stewardesses: Regina and Josephine know me. No need to show me my seat. I'm a veteran, almost part of the crew.

The plane is full.

Again pleasantly surprising, more people from 'Down Kenya' than the indigenes..

We are becoming a cosmopolitan mixed society -- happily so!

Maybe this will cure the cancer of tribalism and racism - wishful thinking !?

We are airborne by 940am.

10 minutes late.

But no need to fret!

We are going away from the madhouse (Nairobi), so time is of no essence from now henceforth!

Mt Kenya and the Nyandaruas (Aberdares) are hidden. The cloud cover is thick.

As we leave the Central Highlands (the meteorological term for Central Province), we enter the drier parts of Kenya.

Machakos and Kitui.

Eventually into Tana River, Garissa then Wajir Counties.

The cloud cover is sparse now.

The view from 21000ft above shows little sign of greenery.

The rains haven't reached here ... yet.

The Cumulo-Nimbus clouds in Nairobi have been replaced by the much higher Cirrus clouds with intermittent clumps of Cumulus clouds, looking like discarded pieces of waste cotton wool.

Soon, even the cotton wool clouds disappear, and we have the bare landscape of Tana River and Garissa Counties below us.

Meandering dry riverbeds are evident.

Clusters of tin roofed huts and houses announce the small townships huddled along an arterial road or aligned along a dry riverbed.

We pray they receive rain here too.

I have said it in the past and I repeat, we are a rain-fed economy.

If the rains fail (as it so often does nowadays), then we all suffer - more so the poor who are the most vulnerable to vagaries of the weather.

Thanks to climate change and the colonialists ... but there is the Day of Judgement coming and questions will be asked and punishment meted out fairly!

The small subsistence farms are clearly identifiable by the dry patches they have become.

The people are suffering!

Is anyone listening?

Does anyone care?

The politicians are busy in Nairobi doing what they do best ... I need not say it again.

You join the dots!

Today I am headed to inspect works at the Hudheifa Masjid Project.

Its a whistle stop trip. Thankfully so*

Insha ALLAH, I expect to be back home by 630pm, in time for iftar.

75 minutes later and we land into one of the driest parts of Kenya.

Wajir Town. Wajir County.

Home to some of the foremost Islamic Scholars in Kenya.

Home to one of the oldest madrassah in North Eastern Kenya (Al Fatah).

Once regarded as part of greater Somalia but now an integral part of Kenya.

Reputed to have the best goats (with the tastiest mutton) and sweetest water melons 🍉.

Known for it prized golden honey ... often referred to as liquid gold.

Home to my better half's father, grandfather and clan.

Need I say more? No, enough said!

Its surprisingly cloudy today. A welcome change from the usually hot and dry weather.

The characteristic red soil was visible from our cruising altitude. A few rainbows appeared amidst the clouds.

These are hopeful harbingers of rain.

We must not stop praying for rain.

As we descend, the turbulence shakes up the drowsy passengers. They sit upright. Some hold onto the seats ahead....as though this would ever help in case of an accident?

The town is dominated by blue galvanised iron roofs. Nearly all of them are blue.... surely!

Do they have a pact with a factory that sells blue sheets? Its monotonous!

We land safely.

Alhamdulillah

Regina announces the usual..."Welcome to Wajir International Airport ....".

Its a bright day. Different from the madhouse!

The temperature is in excess of 32deg..

Walking out of the air-conditioned plane onto the hot tarmac of the airport apron preheated by the desert sun feels like walking into an oven ...

I wasn't expecting any less anyway ... I walk to the parking lot and seek out one of my many acquaintances to drive me to the outside gate where my car awaits me.

Zakaria takes me out of the airport grounds.

The double cab Hilux waiting for me is ready and quickly drives up next to my initial transport. Its the same vehicle that killed a supposedly-pregnant-goat last year (read my blog "The Dangerous Road ... ")...

We head to Hudheifa Masjid...

Hudheifa Mosque - still under construction

After work, I am shown one of the other new mosques on the Buna- Giriftu Road. Not too impressive but functional.

Fischer's Starlings - perched on the incomplete parapet wall of the Mosque

Later we head back to Wajir Palace Hotel for prayers and an afternoon rest in the lounge.

Here I am joined by another 10 or so others. All looking for a place to snooze off in the afternoon heat amidst the eminent rumbles coming from empty tummies.

The main attraction here are the 4 rotating fans which churn up the existing heat into a breeze of hot air...something akin to stirring soup.

But it is still better than the silent-still-outside air with a temperature now in excess of 35deg.

I lounge in this cauldron for another two hours. Some of the 10 musketeers are in deep slumber - the snoring is unashamedly primal and loud.

Maybe I snore too, so no laughing please!

Time to leave.

As I walk towards the first security check, the sun roasts my exposed skin...the fez protects the head.

The sun is too bright...I squint my eyes as I plod through the sandy road.

My flight back is at 430pm

Our airline is notorious for lateness. Every time I have travelled with them from Wajir, we've been late

half an hour and sometimes longer delays are all too common.

Imran has advised me to look for water and dates in case I am not home in time for iftar...I'll be fine.

I've fasted all my adult life so I'm not distressed in any way...

All the same I'll request the stewards to give me water or juice to take away .... just in case of delays.

We arrive into the airport terminal building after multiple security checks.

Most of the staff know me and insist on chatting me up as I go through the series of checks and processes.

Boarding passes are issued.

I meet Riyad and Ahmed. Sons of Amario. All relatives.

They are travelling to Nairobi to visit a sick close relative.

We chat.

They are small kings here in Wajir and so we are ushered into the VIP Lounge.

I am not complaining!

Airconditioned. Sofa Sets. Carpeted.

Once in a while I accept to be spoilt. Why not!

I deserve it.

We lounge on the rather obese sofas ... I drown myself into one.

Our aircraft is late and arrives from Nairobi as usual, 20 minutes late.

Presently, we are called to board.

Again, the blessings of God - the Captain knows me and so does one of the stewardesses.

Capt Sankor instructs the stewardesses to give us 1st class seats.

Nos 1.2 and 3

Again I drown my small frame into a comfortable leather clad 1st class seat.

Other joining passengers wonder why we are getting special treatment.

I try to put up a face of disdain ... I feel like announcing, "I deserve it", but I choose modesty instead...and keep silent.

"Think what you want, but I deserve every inch of the 1st class I am seated in!"

50 minutes flight. Yes, this one is a proper jet.

Fokker 70.

And thus the shorter flight time.

And so we land in JKIA after a few bumps in the air ...

Back to Nairobi.

Alhamdulillah