C o n t eC onn t etn t ss

Sahani-Lake Rudolph’s First Navy Ship 4

The King’s African Rifles want a naval presence on Lake Rudolph and recruit
a former Royal Navy Commander to lead the expedition. The results are unex-
pected.
The Kedong Massacre 10
Maasai warriors are provoked and massacre over 500 Swahili and Kikuyu porters
at the foot of Mount Margaret. Andrew “Trader” Dick sets off on a mission of
reprisal.
The Lost Pate Chronicle 13
The British send troops into Witu after the Sultan kills German nationals. The
Pate Chronicle, a valuable manuscript narrating the history of the region, is de-
stroyed in the bombardment of Witu.
Last Lion Hunt on Mombasa Island 15
When a lion appears on Mombasa Island, Charles Hobley hefts his gun and sets
out to kill it.

Kenya’s Independence Day 18

A photo essay remembers the day when Kenya was granted its independence from
Great Britain.

Joseph Thomson Explores Eburru 24

Joseph Thomson takes time on his journey through Maasai land

Friendly Fire Ravages Home Guard Patrol 26

A Home Guard patrol near Lari is accidentally decimated by friendly fire.

I was a Mau Mau General 27

A grandmother remembers how she went to the forest with just a panga to fight
for Kenya’s independence and how she became a General.

A Slave Escapes 28
Arab slave traders capture Bahati and march her and others towards the coast.
Bahati escapes in Ukambani and is helped to return to her home.

Departments
Editorial-balancing cultural nostalgia and cultural amnesia 2
Sauti Zenu-your letters 3
Only in Africa-funny stories that happened in Africa 16
History Mystery Contest 20
Old Africa’s Photo Album 22
Historic Photo Contest 30
We’re hunting -- for stories! 31
The Last Story 32

OLD AFRICA..............1

Welcome to Yesterday
Our goal at Old Africa magazine
is to transport readers to an earlier era
by publishing stories, personal memo-
ries, and vintage photographs from
East Africa’s past. East Africa, with its
diverse and fascinating indigenous
cultures, colourful white settlers, hunt-
ers and adventurers, sober missionary
types, and entrepreneurs from the Indian
subcontinent, has witnessed the clash
and eventual melding of cultures. Stories
abound in the extravagant, breathtaking
world of East Africa with its vivid birds
and wild animals. All of us who have lived
in Africa have a common heritage; we
carry its dust on our feet forever. Our love
of Africa binds us together. The stories
collected and retold in Old Africa
magazine are a tribute to the land and
the characters from all cultures who have
called East Africa home.
We have chosen to feature stories
that are at least 40 years in the past.
Anything that has happened in the past
could be called history, but 40 years is
the biblical and traditional period that
marks a generation. Old Africa
will focus on the world of a previous
generation.
It is important not to forget or lose
the remembered history of our land.
But this is not an easy task. “National
memory veers either to nostalgia or am-
nesia,” said renowned Kenyan scholar
Ali Mazrui recently as he addressed a
meeting at Kenya’s National Museum
in Nairobi on July 20, 2005.
We at Old Africa magazine
don’t want to romanticize the past or
celebrate a false nostalgia. Nor do we
want to eliminate the bits we don’t
want to remember. We want to come
somewhere in the middle between
what Mazrui called “cultural nostalgia
and cultural amnesia.” This will involve
selecting which stories to publish. Our
goal at Old Africa is to remember
the past through stories, pointing out
both the good and the bad as realisti-
cally as possible.
Not all of East Africa’s history is
2 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f r o m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
Africa has preserved old written records
and we looked at some of those in our
story about the Lost Pate Chronicle. But
the influence of western culture, which
puts a heavy value on archives, has
pretty. When is it okay to talk about meant there are many old records about
things that happened long ago but are Africa written by early white explorers,
divisive? In East Africa, Arabs ran the traders, missionaries and settlers. These
slave trade. During the struggle for free- formed the basis for our story on Joseph
dom from colonial rule Kenya endured Thomson exploring Eburru and the last
the Emergency period, which pitted the lion hunt on Mombasa, which was writ-
Mau Mau fighting for their land against ten by Charles W. Hobson, and several
the loyalist “Home Guards” who stood other stories in this issue, including the
with the British. Many died in the strug- launching of the first naval ship on Lake
gle. Is East Africa ready to face these Rudolph, which Maurice Lloyd Vernon re-
issues? Are they too divisive? Memories corded many years after his adventure.
may be painful. But we believe it is time Our hope is that through the stories
for a balanced view of the past. we present on these pages, a collage
There are aspects of East Africa’s of history will appear. It will be painted
history that are hard to preserve. Oral in as many colours as there are ethnic
tradition weakens archival tradition. groups who call East Africa home.
Africa has not always concerned itself In addition to stories, we offer
with keeping records. At Old Africa you historic photographs as a window
we are conducting interviews with our through the lens of a camera to a world
wazee - our older generation - from all gone by. Be sure to look at our Historic
races to collect their unwritten stories Photo Contest and our Photo Album as
before they are lost. This issue features well as our photo feature on Kenya’s
two stories, one by Alice Wanjiru, the Independence Day celebration.
other by David Mugo, in which they Thanks for buying a copy of Old
remember what it was like fighting on Africa. We hope the stories will
different sides of Kenya’s independence captivate you and motivate you to send
conflict. Future issues will have more us your stories about old Africa.
stories of remembered history. -Shel Arensen, Editor
Islamic culture on the coast of East
Old Africa magazine
P.O. Box 65
Kijabe, Kenya
Email: editorial@oldafricamagzine.com
www.oldafricamagazine.com
Editor: Shel Arensen
Design and Layout: Mike Adkins
Printers: Regal Press
Distributors: PDS
Old Africa magazine is published bimonthly. It publishes stories
and photos from East Africa’s past.
Advertising: To advertise in Old Africa, contact the editor
at editorial@oldafricamagazine.com for a rate sheet
Contributions: Old Africa magazine welcomes articles on East
Africa’s past. See our writer’s guidelines in this magazine, or check
them out on our website: www.oldafricamagazine.com After read-
ing our guidelines and editing your work, send it to us for review
either by post or email. Postal Address: Old Africa magazine, Box
65, Kijabe 00220 (To ensure return of your manuscript, send it with
a self-addressed envelope and stamps for postage) Email Address:
editorial@oldafricamagazine.com
Copyright © 2005 by Kifaru Educational and Editorial Con-
sultants
issue No.1 October-November 2005
Dead Donkey on the Road
While doing some research
at the Kenya National Archives
recently, I found the following
comments written in the Political
Record Book from the police in
Kyambu (sic) on August 15, 1911,
after they received some telegrams
regarding dead bodies found on
the road. After responding to
the complaints, they added the
following paragraph to the report.
“Whilst dead bodies of
Wakikuyu have been found
alongside the road between Kamiti
and the Thika River, we learn that
another obstruction was allowed
to cumber the road this side of
Kamiti, at the second swamp. The
carcase of a donkey was actually
lying in the centre of the road,
and was not only obnoxious to
the olfactory nerves, being full of
maggots, but was a source of great
danger to traffic. One narrow
escape occurred to a gentleman,
who, with his wife, was driving to
town on Monday. The horse, as it
was making good speed downhill,
shied at the obstacle and dashed to
one side amongst the stunted trees.
A very narrow squeak resulted.”
Not much has changed since
“The carcase of the donkey was...
obnoxious to the olfactory nerves,
being full of maggots”
then. Dead animals still decorate
Kenyan roads as we wait for nature
to take its course. What does this
say about the people who pass
by? It seems to support the belief
that if we ignore a problem long
enough, it will eventually go away
by itself. Could this be one reason
why we often prefer to be passive
and ignore problems instead of
fixing them? What dead donkeys
are stinking up our community?
Brian Arensen, Nairobi, Kenya
Letters
Sauti Zenu Your Voices
An Odd Idea about
Lord Errol’s killer?
In the late 1930’s my mother,
Joy Williams, was the young wife
of a junior District Officer in
Kiambu. She occasionally took tea
with Lady Errol while Lord Errol
played squash with my father, Hal
Williams. The ladies were not
friends, any more than my father
and Lord Errol were friends. But
because he and Errol played at the
same level, they enjoyed a game
of squash together.
Lady Errol was an heiress
of considerable wealth. Not
particularly good looking, she
was also a withdrawn woman who
kept her emotions tightly under
control.
Could it have been, a few years
later, when Lady Errol found
her husband conducting a highly
public affair with the then Diana
Delves Broughton, that something
snapped?
Could it be that when Errol
drove away from delivering
Diana to the Delves Broughton
house that fateful night in Karen,
a woman flagged him down on
the road? That he stopped to help
a lady in distress and Lady Errol
leaned through the window and
shot him?
That is what my mother, who
chatted over tea with Lady Errol
over 65 years ago, believes. Now
92 and in failing health, my mother
also believes Sir Delves Broughton
always knew – or suspected – that
Lady Errol had killed her husband
but, honourably, Broughton never
said a word.
Veronica Bellers,
Trelawney Cottage, Scotland
Travels in Tanganyika
One day in the early 1930s
when I was about eight years
old, Daddy came to get me from
Kijima, Tanganyika, where I was
attending a one-room schoolhouse
for missionary kids taught by
Mrs. Margaret Marsh and Mrs.
Hess. Daddy hitched a ride for
both of us on a lorry, but we didn’t
even reach Igula before the lorry
broke down. We walked the rest
of the way to Igula, arriving after
dark. We knocked on the door of
an Indian shop. The man inside
said, “Go away. I’m in bed. My
children are in bed. I can’t help
you.” It was just like the Bible
story from Luke 11. We went to
duka after duka, but received the
same answer. Finally an African
employee let us into one of the
dukas. It had a wooden platform
where they’d pour out flour and
rice every day to be measured and
sold. We slept on that platform.
The next morning Daddy found
a British man who offered us a
ride. Daddy had to run to push
the man’s car to get it started. I
remember being afraid he was
taking Daddy away.
Olive Downey,
Minneola, FL, USA
OLD AFRICA..............3
 Sahani
Lake Rudolph’s First Navy Ship
Adapted from an account by Maurice Lloyd Vernon

1923 “Do you know any-

thing about sailing?”
asked Colonel Jack Lewellyn,
you won’t mind
that.”
He explained
the commanding officer for the that the KAR
King’s African Rifles (KAR) needed a naval
in Kenya’s Northern Frontier presence on
District. Lake Rudolph
“Yes,” I replied. “I finished for supplying
up as a Commander when I troops and im-
was a lieutenant in the Royal proving com-
Navy.” munication be-
Colonel Lewellyn pondered tween isolated
for a moment. I had just helped army posts in
our Kenyan ox driver and our Turkana. They
Sahani -Lake Rudolph’s first navy

team of oxen to tow Lewellyn’s wanted to set up

Lancer motorcar out of the
muddy track that passed through
my father’s farm, which ran
from the Timau River, north of
Nanyuki, up into the Loldaiga
Hills. Colonel Lewellyn had
been up in Meru inspecting his
troops and had bogged down
on our farm. After rescuing his
car from the mud, it was too late
for him to go on, so he spent the
night with us. My father told
him I’d recently gotten out of
the Navy.
“Do you know anything
about Maxim machine guns?”
Lewellyn went on.
“Yes, I can take them to
pieces, put them together, fire
them, anything of that sort.” I
wondered where his questions
were leading.
“I think you’re the sort of
chap we’re looking for. We’re
about to build a boat up at Lake
Rudolph. It will go up there in
sections and you can go with
it. We’ll have some Indian
carpenters put it together. You
may have a bit of fighting, but
4 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f r o m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
a new post at
Lokitaung at the
northern end of
Lake Rudolph.
In those days
Habash raiders
from Abysin-
nia, as Ethiopia An inside view of the boat as it is constructed,
was called then, showing the curved ribs.
often came
down for slaves and ivory and posed that I command this new
to steal Boran cattle. The KAR ship on Lake Rudolph. Having
thought rations could be sent left the Navy and come to the
up on ox wagons through the rather dull life on my father’s
army posts at Marsabit and Timau farm, I leapt at his idea
Barsaloi to Loyengelani on the and said it would be a grand op-
south end of Lake Turkana. The portunity. Lewellyn told me to
boat could carry the supplies to come to Nairobi the following
Lodwar on the west side of the week and he’d fill me in on my
lake where a team of donkeys new responsibilities.
would carry the loads the rest In Nairobi I met Major Ped-
of the way to Lokitaung. dler, the Officer-in-Charge
The boat would also carry of the Supply and Transport
troops and a machine gun. Corps. He told me the boat
When Habash raiders came was being built in sections in
down, the boat could swoop the Public Works Department
in, cut them off and shoot them (PWD) shed in Mombasa.
down. There had been no vote of
I was about twenty-eight money for the boat, so the
years old when Lewellyn pro- KAR had to sell pack animals
issue No.1 October-November 2005
and supplies to raise about one
thousand pounds for the proj-
ect. I went off to Mombasa
with a stern word that all the
funds had already been spent.
Boat built in Mombasa
In Mombasa I looked at the
skeleton of what would be my
boat - she was thirty-six feet
long, had an almost flat bot-
tom and the frames (ribs of the
boat) were made of four-inch
by two-inch teak with great iron
plates bolted on the corners. It
was an unnecessarily strong
construction. The Port Captain
of Mombasa who had designed
the ship really should have
known better. The skin plank-
ing was to be of three-inch by
one-inch teak, but these hadn’t
been put on yet. The keel was
cut in lengths to allow the grain
to continue around the curves
and the lengths were joined
with iron plates and bolts. It
was a rather primitive boat,
but exceedingly strong. Oddly,
the boat had no keel. I pointed
this out, but was told it would
be fitted with lee-boards. Lee-
boards were used by Dutchmen
on boats where the sides were
almost perpendicular. The lee-
board, hinged at the top, would
act as a fulcrum and prevent
sideways motion in the water.
Unfortunately this boat did
The boat begins to take shape on the southern shore of Lake Rudolph.
not have vertical sides; they
were almost semi-circular.
The anchor was a ridiculous
little thing about one-tenth the
weight I would have liked. The
boat was to carry two masts,
which were to be Bermuda-
rigged with khaki drill sails.
I protested to the KAR
headquarters in Nairobi. I was
doubtful of the lee-boards,
thoroughly dissatisfied with the
anchor and wary that the sails
would prevent us from sailing
close to the wind. I was told
there was no money and it was
no use asking for anything.
Transporting the boat
The three Indian carpenters
who had erected the skeleton
took it to pieces and loaded it
onto a railway truck. At Thika
we unloaded all the parts onto
fourteen ox wagons. Our load
included rations for the KAR
in Turkana, corrugated iron to
build ration stores, and an iron
plate, which I had obtained
from the PWD for possible use
as a keel. A Dutchman named
Muller was in charge of the ox
wagons.
At Isiolo Lieutenant Tony
Lytton joined us. He was head-
ed to Barsaloi to take charge of
the district from there to Lake
Rudolph. The track from Isiolo
to Barsaloi had only been used
by pack animals, so we had to
widen the track as we went.
I had twenty-four Kavirondo
porters, and three boatmen
recruited from the dhows in
Lamu as well as the three Indi-
an carpenters. We had to travel
at night because of the heat. To
find water we had to dig in dry
river beds as we crossed. Usu-
ally we found water about three
or four feet down. We bailed the
water out and poured it into a
trough in the sand lined with
canvas tarpaulin so the oxen
could drink. We had sixteen
oxen for each wagon, plus a
few spares for a total of over
225 oxen. Pouring water for
them was no mean task.
Beyond Barsaloi there
wasn’t even a track. Captain
Douglas of the KAR Supply
Corps said he knew the way.
Progress was very slow and it
took about three weeks to get
to the northern end of the Horr
Valley. Then Douglas got lost.
We trekked over lava in the
moonlight towards a hill called
Sirima where there was a pool
of water. We couldn’t manage
the distance to Sirima in one
trip as we only made about
twelve miles a day at the most.
We would start about 4 a.m. and
travel until it got too hot for the
oxen. We’d leave the wagons
and walk the oxen back
to some grazing, then
return to the wagons
and start again the next
morning at 4 a.m. After
three miserable days of
this, we arrived at the
waterhole at Sirima,
which has a game track
down a steep-sided ra-
vine. We had a difficult
time stopping the oxen
from rushing for the
water. They drank and
rested, then we went
back for the wagons.
From Sirima the
wagons couldn’t nego-
OLD AFRICA..............5
 tiate the rough lava. The loads,
including the unassembled
boat, were carried down to
Lake Rudolph by the porters.
Blown out to sea
Tony Lytton came up from
Barsaloi to help me choose a
site to build a fort, which could
be defended against shifta (ban-
dit) attacks. Walking along the
shore was rough so we decided
to travel in a dinghy we had
carried up with us. Four of our
porters would tow us by walk-
ing along the beach. But just as
we were tying up the tow rope
at about 6 a.m., a sudden gust
of wind came down and blew us
out into the lake. Lytton, about
six-feet-six-inches tall, couldn’t
row in the dinghy because his
knees got in the way. We had
one Lamu boatman with us, and
he and I tried to row back to
Sahani -Lake Rudolph’s first navy
shore. In my desperate efforts
I broke an oar. This left only a
pair of small skulling oars and
we couldn’t make any headway.
When we were about half-a-
mile out, Lytton said, “I’m no
help to you. I can swim this
distance and you will be better
off without me.” He took off
his clothes and slipped over
the stern and swam. He made
more progress than we did, but
I went on rowing, bearing a bit
to the north where a point of
land juts into the lake. By now
it was very hot in spite of the
gale of wind.
I heard some rifle shots up-
wind and thought Lytton might
be in trouble. I later learnt that
when Lytton neared the shore,
several hippo swam up close to
him. The askaris opened fire
on the hippo, but they didn’t
budge. My head boatman,
Mohammed, took a plank and
tied a life-line onto it and swam
out to Lytton. Lytton held onto
the plank and the men on shore
pulled them in.
Once on shore, Lytton spot-
ted our dinghy edging to the
6 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f r o m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
The Indian carpenters assemble the boat in the sand.
north. With no other boat avail-
able, Lytton mounted my mule.
It was small and Lytton’s feet
barely cleared the ground on
each side. As he started up the
shore after me, my cook handed
him a bottle of whisky “to save
the Bwana.” Tony rode up the
beach, though it was very rough
and by now it was getting dark.
Eventually he found our dinghy
pulled up on the shore and the
boatman and I asleep under a
tree completely wet. My hands
and my bottom were bleeding
from a very long row. I think
we finished the whisky that
night, even though Lytton was
practically a teetotaler. We real-
ized we were all lucky to have
escaped death.
Later we found Loyengelani
and decided to build the fort
there because it had a small
freshwater stream. We returned
to the site where we would build
our boat and Lytton headed for
Barsaloi.
Assembling the boat
I chose to build the boat on
a flat piece of sand about six
feet above the water level. We
pitched our tents but a gale of
wind blew almost constantly
across Lake Rudolph from the
south-southeast and our tents
collapsed and sand stung our
knees.
My Indian carpenters were
excellent. It took nearly a
month to assemble the skeleton
of the boat. Now came the job
issue No.1
of screwing on the skin made
of the three-inch by one-inch
teak planks. We had to bend
the planks as we needed a con-
siderable curve at the bow and
stern. In a boatyard, planks are
steamed in a special contriv-
ance to allow them to bend. We
had no such contrivance and the
teak planks, by now exceeding-
ly dry, cracked when we tried
to bend them. I devised a plan.
After planing the planks to the
taper, we immersed them in the
lake until they were saturated.
We cut down a few thorn trees
and made charcoal on the flat
sand. We marked out the curve
needed on each plank. Then we
lit a charcoal fire on each side of
the mark and as the steam came
out of the wood, we levered the
planks with crowbars and rocks
into the proper curve. After
several weeks of hard labour,
we completed the skin of the
boat and caulked the seams
with cotton. We were ready to
launch the first naval ship on
Lake Rudolph.
Launching the “Sahani”
To launch the boat we had
to dig away the sand from un-
der the bows to make a slope
down to the lake. We tried to
cut rollers from what wood
we could find, but this failed.
So we lined the path down to
the lake with corrugated iron
sheets, then lifted the stern and
the boat slid into the water. I
anchored her. Being a flat-bot-
October-November 2005
tomed boat, she only drew two
inches when everybody stood
on board. The plates where the
lee-boards were to be hinged
were only two feet square and
I doubted they could keep the
ship from rolling. We erected
the mast and rigging and fitted
the sails. My three dhow sailors
from Lamu knew their job well
The carpenters build the boat on a sand hill slightly above the lake so
that when it is complete they can dig the sand away and have a ramp
down to the water.
and called the ship the “Sahani”
meaning the plate. The bottom
was so flat it was a fair descrip-
tion.
There was the usual gale
from south-southeast, but as
it seemed to be permanent, I
could see no point in waiting
for a change and I decided
to fly the sail. We sailed out
from shore with the starboard
lee-board down and almost at
once it cracked right across
and we went sideways. I tried
to turn head-in to the wind, but
this was quite impossible so I
had to wear (put the stern to
the wind) and tried to sail back
with the port lee-board down.
This also broke and we were
lucky to regain the shore many
miles downwind from where
we started. The anchor didn’t
hold, so I dropped two men
over the bows to carry it ashore
and dig a hole for it.
Fitting the keel
The men used a rope to
tow the Sahani to Loyengelani
where I planned to fit the keel
plate I’d pinched from Mom-
basa. I had to careen the boat
in four feet of water. I cut palm
trees to form two tripods lashed
together at the top with ropes. I
placed the tripods about twenty
feet apart in a fairly deep bay
and laid another palm tree
across the tops of the tripods.
I joined our ropes into two
long lengths and tied them to
the two mastheads. The ropes
were carried to shore abreast
the boat, which was alongside
the horizontal palm tree trunk.
All the men together with some
El Molo pulled on the ropes till
the boat heeled over and the
keel was just above water. I
had to coax the carpenters into
the water as they feared the
crocodiles. I played in the water
next to the boat to show them it
was safe, and finally they came
in to help.
We drilled holes in the iron
plate. With a brace and bit we
bored holes in the keel and
bolted the plate as strongly as
we could. About this time, the
weight of the ship on the hori-
zontal tree became too much
and everything collapsed with
a loud crack. I was underneath
the boat tightening the nuts
and was flung under the boat,
but not damaged. The boat
floated clear with a keel plate
of some sort underneath it. We
loaded the bottom of the boat
with fairly flat stones for bal-
last then loaded the corrugated
iron sheets and timber to build
the ration store at Lodwar. The
three Indian carpenters had fin-
ished their job of building the
boat and asked per-
mission to return. I
sent them off with
some askaris and
porters to Barsaloi.
They carried a note
telling Lytton that I
was starting across
the lake.
Sailing to Lodwar
We set off in the
usual gale from the
south-southeast,
with the wind push-
ing us towards the
mouth of the Turk-
well River, which
was as close to
Lodwar as I expected to get. We
crossed the lake at a very good
speed. As we approached the
southern delta of the Turkwell, I
saw heavy breakers indicating a
sand bank. I turned to starboard
well clear of the breakers, then
heard a crack and water began
to pour into the boat. I had
about twenty men on board and
only three of us could swim.
Mohammed and I set off in the
dinghy to see if the water was
deep enough for the Sahani to
get through the breakers. But
the dinghy capsized at once and
we had to swim back through
the rough water. The Sahani
had filled up with water faster
than I expected. We hoisted the
main sail with the boom braced
forward and sailed stern first
into the breakers. The first wave
landed us with a nasty thud on
the sand bank, but the next one
picked us up and threw us into
the lagoon.
The Sahani sank almost at
OLD AFRICA..............7
 once. The men stood on the them and we
deck, which was a couple of had a Christ-
feet under water. Mohammed mas party. The
and I swam and towed the men next morning
on their backs one by one until a Turkana run-
they could stand and wade ner came to say
ashore. After we had a few the Sahani had
men ashore, the men found our broken its an-
dinghy undamaged. We ferried chor chain and
the rest to shore in the dinghy. blown ashore.
About 25 Turkana met us on the The boat was
shore and I shook hands with undamaged,
them. By now it was nearly but I didn’t dare
dark. Remembering a bottle return to Loy-
of whisky in the ship, I swam engelani with-
out and dived down to retrieve out an anchor.
it from the stern locker. Back Having done
on shore, a few tots made me a lot of mine
feel better. sweeping in
Floating the Sahani the Great War,
The next day we managed I improvised a
to float the Sahani by putting long fishing line
the mast ropes out to port with nuts and
and having our men and the bolts attached
Turkana haul the ship over at various in-
Sahani -Lake Rudolph’s first navy

while Mohammed and I dived tervals. One

down and put rocks and bits of
wood under the starboard side.
We then reversed the process
and put rocks under the port
side. Eventually the deck came
above water. We offloaded the
corrugated iron and stores using
the dinghy and manpower.
I dived into the hold to as-
sess the damage. I hit my head
against the corner of the keel
plate, which had been driven
through the bottom leaving a
hole three inches wide by six
feet long. We plugged this
hole with empty gunny bags
and then had a dozen men on
board to bale frantically while
we hauled the Sahani onto the
flat sandy beach. The keel
plate was completely buck-
led and couldn’t be replaced.
We patched the bottom prop-
erly and launched the Sahani
again.
A lost anchor
We established contact with
Peter Kerr and Hugh Grant, in
charge of the KAR in Lodwar. It
was Christmas, so I stayed with
8 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f r o m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
end of the line
was attached to
the dinghy, the The Indian carpenters overcome their fear
other end was of crocodiles and affix the metal keel
pulled along by to the boat while it is heeled over.
some tall Tur-
kana men. Mohammed and I ways. We struggled through the
swam half way between the night and daylight found us off
dinghy and the shore and dur- the eastern shore, but far to the
ing our sweep we finally located north on Alyia Bay. We dropped
and retrieved the anchor. anchor, but it dragged, so Mo-
Hugh Grant came down hammed and I dived down to
from Lodwar and implored me find some rock or other obstruc-
not to sail back across the lake. tion to attach it to. I thought I
But I knew his troops were at found one, but it turned out to
half rations and I had the rest of be a crocodile. Mohammed and
their supplies at Loyengelani. I quickly swam to the surface
The final crossing and for the first time, I beat him
We quickly built a ration to the boat. The crew roared
store in a little bay near the with laughter, which I thought
mouth of the Turkwell that be- was rather heartless until they
came known as Port Ile. Just pointed out the croc swimming
after dark when the evening fast in the other direction.
breeze picked up, we sailed With the anchor dragging,
hoping the wind would hold we were driven ashore stern
us to get us across the lake as first into a sandy beach and the
it is only 12 miles wide at that rudder and its two iron hinges
point. About halfway across snapped off. Without any
the lake, a gale blew up in the replacement parts, I had one
pitch dark and it drove us side- of our men plane down two
hippo tusks from a beast I’d
issue No.1 October-November 2005
shot earlier and we slung the
rudder on ivory.
The long tow
That evening we poled the
Sahani past the entrance to
Alyia Bay so we could head
south to Loyengelani. I then
had the crew take a long rope
and tow the boat south. This
was a difficult task with all the
lava on the shore, but I dared
not risk being blown back into
the lake again. The men began
to suffer from dysentery from
drinking lake water and poor
rations. Many were at the end
of their strength. At a small in-
let I tied the boat to a tree and
set off with six men by foot
for Loyengelani. We stumbled
through the lava in the evenings
and early mornings because
of the heat. We finally arrived
at Loyengelani, picked up the
rest of our porters, rations, and
medicines and headed back for
my sick men.
On the way I went hunting
to find a buck to supplement the
men’s rations. Instead I found
a pair of lions. Thinking that
even lion blood and innards
might help my men, I aimed
and fired. I’m not a very good
shot, but I wounded the lion-
ess who promptly charged. My
second shot knocked her down,
but she recovered and came at
me again. A third shot stopped
her, but she took cover behind
a small rock. I could see her
tail lashing. I sidled downwind
Several El Molo join Vernon’s crew to pull on the ropes
to careen the boat so the keel could be fitted.
until I got a view of her side and
shot her in the heart. The men
did eat her liver and a few odd
bits and drank the blood.
With the help of the new
group of porters from Loyen-
gelani, we towed the Sahani
down the coast. We arrived at
the creek at Loyengelani just
after dark. I don’t know how
many days it had been since we
set out from the other side of the
lake. We buried the anchor and
I fell into an exhausted sleep.
The next morning one of my
men woke me up to say the ship
had blown away into the lake
and disappeared. I don’t know
whether the chain snapped or
whether my men decided they
didn’t want anything more to do
with Sahani and set her adrift.
I wouldn’t blame them if they
did. But whatever happened,
the Sahani was never seen
again and that ended KAR’s
attempt to have a naval force
on Lake Rudolph.
Maurice Vernon’s manuscript about his
adventure on Lake Rudolph was given by
his daughter Jix Grant to Ian Parker who
retold the story in his book, Jua Kali’s
Voyage on the Jade Sea. Old Africa would
like to thank Jix Grant and Ian Parker
for use of the photos and manuscript.
We edited Vernon’s account for length
and readability, but kept his original first
person voice.

The men dubbed the

flat-bottomed boat the
Sahani - Swahili for
plate. Here it floats
ready for its first - and
only - voyage.

Commander Maurice Vernon, RN

OLD AFRICA..............9
 The Kedong
M a s s a c r e
by Shel Arensen

1895 A Swahili porter to let the caravan pass by peace-

slipped into the Maa- fully.
sai manyatta near Mount Marga- On the morning of November
A total of 456 Kikuyu were
killed along with the 98 Swahili.
Over half the caravan had been
ret and started to molest a young 26, 1895, the caravan broke camp wiped out. The survivors strag-
Maasai girl who was visiting the and set out. The first gled into Forth Smith
Maasai warriors at their camp. half of the to report what
Another Swahili porter slapped c a r a v a n had hap-
a cow and drove it towards the
caravan that straggled through
the thick white dust on the floor
of the Rift Valley.
A young Maasai warrior drew
back his arm and speared the
Swahili cow thief. A nearby Swa-
hili fired his gun, killing the Maa-
sai spearman. In a few minutes
the Kedong massacre had begun.
In 1895 a large caravan of
eleven hundred men left Fort
Smith, present day Kabete, to
carry food supplies to Eldama passed pened.
Ravine station, at that time part by the Gilkisson
of the eastern province of Ugan- Maasai many- feared taking
da. The caravan included 105 atta quietly. But then two any immediate action.
Swahili porters along with over Swahili porters entered the man- But Andrew “Trader” Dick was
990 Kikuyu porters. yatta, molesting one of the girls at the Fort at the time. A former
Mr. Gilkisson, the officer in and attempting to steal a cow. accountant with the Imperial
The Kedong Massacre

charge at Fort Smith, chose a Within minutes the manyatta British East Africa Company,
young Swahili to be the headman and the vicinity were in shambles. Trader Dick had started his own
of the caravan. The Maasai ilmurran killed 98 transport and trading business.
The outgoing journey went Swahili men, most of them right He had a safari ready to head for
well. With supplies delivered, outside the manyatta. Then they Lake Rudolph. On hearing of the
the caravan returned, passing by began to butcher the stretched massacre, he insisted on an im-
Lake Naivasha. Then a number out line of Kikuyu porters from mediate reprisal against the Maa-
of the porters became unruly. By the manyatta to the foot of Mount sai. Gilkisson refused. But Trader
the time the group reached Kijabe Margaret. Dick persuaded three Frenchmen
Hill, the young Swahili headman About 70 Kikuyu, panic- on a hunting safari who hap-
had lost control of his men. Sev- stricken and exhausted, found a pened to be at Fort Smith, to join
eral Maasai elders had joined the small Maasai boma with old men him. The three were Baron de
group near Naivasha and urged and grandmothers at the base of Romans, Monsieur Versepuit and
the headman to persuade his men Mount Margaret. They begged a man named Spork. Dick and
to behave themselves when they for protection from the ilmurran the Frenchmen started off with a
passed the large warrior village who charged up from behind. considerable armed force of Afri-
or manyatta ahead near Mount The older Maasai interceded for can askaris.
Margaret. the Kikuyu, but nothing could Arriving at the Kedong Val-
The Maasai elders hurried stop the killing. All 70 Kikuyu ley, they found the Maasai had
ahead of the caravan that evening were killed within minutes. Their moved away. But they succeed-
and pleaded with the Maasai bodies lay within an area twenty ed in rounding up a herd of the
warriors (in Maasai a warrior is yards square at the foot of Mount Maasai cattle near the foothills
an olmurrani, plural is ilmurran) Margaret. of Mount Longonot. The Maasai
1 0 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005
ilmurran chose not to recapture
their cattle in the valley. Instead
they ran ahead of Trader Dick’s
raiding party under cover of the
whistling thorn brush. They set
an ambush on a terrace above
a small ravine where the trail
curled up out of the floor of the
valley. When the cattle reached
the terrace, the Maasai could
have dashed forward and driven
off their cattle while the Euro-
peans and the strongly armed
rear-guard struggled up the steep
rocky path. Instead they waited
for Trader Dick and his party to
reach the small plateau before
launching their attack.
Trader Dick and the French-
men took cover and fired their
sporting rifles, driving the ilmur-
ran back into the shelter of the ra-
vine. Dick shot and killed an ol-
murrani with an extra-long bladed
spear. He decided to take the spear
as a souvenir. He surged forward
to wrest it from the dead man’s
hand. While he stooped to col-
lect the spear, another olmurrani
dashed out from the rocks. Trader
Dick aimed his Colt repeating ri-
fle, but the gun jammed. Trader
Dick turned and ran. The olmur-
rani followed him with his spear.
Trader Dick whipped around and
pointed his rifle at the olmurrani,
who ducked. Trader Dick contin-
ued to bluff and the Maasai war-
rior dodged. But when no shots
were fired, the olmurrani realized
Trader Dick’s gun was empty or
useless. He rushed Trader Dick.
Trader Dick turned to flee. The
olmurrani plunged his spear
through Trader Dick and nearly a
foot of the spear ran out past his
chest. The Frenchmen shot the
olmurrani immediately. Trader
Dick died on the spot.
About 100 Maasai were killed
during the skirmish at the top of
the ravine. The Frenchmen sur-
vived the attack and they returned
to Forth Smith with the African
askaris and the cattle.
A few weeks later reports of
the massacre and Trader Dick’s
death reached Frederick Jack-
son, (later Sir Frederick Jackson
KCMG CB) a Uganda official,
who had just arrived to take
charge of the Eldama Ravine
station. The Eastern Province of
Uganda at that time included the
Rift Valley from the Kedong Val-
ley all the way to Baringo. Jack-
son went to investigate what had
happened.
In his report he wrote: “When
I passed along the road about five
weeks later there were skeletons
everywhere. The road itself was
strewn with basket-work hamper
lids (used by the Maasai in their
donkey transport when moving
to fresh grazing grounds), stools,
dressed leather garments...
“Altogether four hundred and
fifty-six Akikuyu were killed. It
was interesting to note that the
majority of the skeletons seen by
myself were quite perfect, even
to the first joints of their fingers
and toes. This showed clearly
that while the vultures and ravens
were able to deal with them, hy-
enas and jackals had not been nu-
merous enough to do so, and had
not touched a single one of the
seventy or more that lay within
an area twenty yards square at
the foot of Mount Margaret. It
was certainly the most gruesome
and horrible march of four miles
or so that I ever experience. If
ever a spot in East Africa could
claim to be a Valley of Death, the
Kedong Valley could do so easily
in December 1985.”
Jackson interviewed the Maa-
sai elders and determined that the
Swahili porters had provoked the
massacre. He hiked on to Fort
Smith where he met John Ains-
worth, another government offi-
cial who had come from Macha-
kos to investigate the massacre.
The two agreed that the loss of
100 Maasai ilmurran killed in
the battle and the cattle taken
by Trader Dick’s party would
be sufficient punishment. They
regarded the cattle as a fine and
gave them to the relatives of the
Kikuyu who had been killed in
the massacre.
When the construction en-
gineers of the Uganda Railway
reached this area of the Kedong
Valley during September 1899,
sun-bleached skulls still littered
the ground. They named the place
“The Plain of Skulls.”
Photo on Previous Page: This photo
of skulls scattered at the base of Mt.
Margaret, then known as Karima
Kaihe, was taken in 1907 by John R.
Riebe, a missionary from Kijabe with
Africa Inland Mission.
Photo Above Left: Maasai warriors
ran ahead and waited for Trader Dick’s
company to scale this rocky ravine
before launching their spears.
OLD AFRICA..............11
 Trader Dick’s
Memorial
In 1995 some of Trader
Dick’s descendants held
a memorial service at the
site, 100 years after Dick’s
death. The weathered stone
marker was incorporated
with a new marble plaque
to mark the spot.

Several different accounts

exist of the Kedong
M a s s a c re a n d t h e y
don’t all agree on the
facts. Information for
this article is taken from
Sir Frederick Jackson’s
book Early Days in East
Africa. Veronica Bellers
includes Jackson’s complete report of the Kedong Massacre in a chapter of her book, What Mr. Sanders Really
Did, a compilation of stories about the work of district officers in Britain’s far-flung empire. Her book may be
viewed online at www.britishempire.co.uk

Terms of Peace- After the Witu Expedition

Signed 25 January, 1891
Be it known that the people of Witu have sued for peace and pardon
from the great English Government for all the evil that they have done, and
the people of Witu promise to obey any future orders whatever that the
great English Government may issue, with regard to the territory and state
of Witu, and they will not oppose any measures whatever that the great
English Government may consider it advisable to adopt in this matter, and
it is understood that honorable treatment and subsistence will be accorded
to Fumo Omari and his relatives. And when this paper has been signed by
Fumo Omari and the people, all war and fighting shall cease, and the people
of Witu have permission to go where they please and to attend to their busi-
ness, and every person in Witu, who stole or seized property of Europeans,
shall return it forthwith. But certain people who have done very bad things
and whose names are given to the envoys will not be pardoned and are not
included in this general pardon.
Memorandum
It is agreed that the amount of subsistence allowance to be accorded to
Fumo Omari, shall be fixed by the Imperial British East Africa Company and
shall not exceed a maximum payment of Rupees four thousand two hundred
R4200 annually. But payment being made, conditional on his good behaviour,
and for nominal services to be rendered by him to the company.
The subsistence allowance to be limited to the life of Fumo Omari
himself.
G.S.M.
The above terms of peace was written and signed by George S. Mackenzie after the Witu Expedition. The
original handwritten letter can be found in the Kenya National Archives under PC/Coast/1/1/2

1 2 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005

The Lost
adapted from the Pate Chronicle by Marina Tolmacheva
1890 October 26, Admiral
Fremantle led a Brit-
ish force of 950 men against the
town of Witu the last mainland
capital of the Nabahani rulers of
Pate.
“A seven-pounder field gun
failed to break down the gate,
but explosives wrenched the tree
trunks sufficiently to allow the
attackers to enter. All the stone
buildings, including the palace,
and a great quantity of powder
and ammunition were blown up.
Every effort was ‘successfully
used to utterly wreck and de-
stroy the town and defences of
Witu.’” (from Marguerite Ylvi-
saker, Lamu in the Nineteenth
Century: Land, Trade, and
Politics, Boston: Africa Studies
Center Boston University, 1979,
152-53.)
This bombardment of Witu
destroyed the original manu-
script history of Pate, The Book
of the Kings of Pate. This book
chronicled the reigns of 32 Pate
kings dating back to an Arabian
ruler from the Nabahani house
in Oman who came to Pate in
the year 600 A.H. (1203-1204
A.D.)
Captain C. H. Stigand tried
to retrieve as much as he could
from the lost history of the
Kings of Pate by having Bwana
Kitini, a storyteller from Pate,
narrate the history in 1908. Hol-
lis also recorded a manuscript in
1903 of Bwana Kitini’s version
of Pate’s history. Bwana Kitini
died in 1931.
Here is Bwana Kitini’s ver-
sion of the events that led to the
sacking of Witu in 1890.
The island of Pate had a long
line of Sultans who traded with
Arabia and other islands. Of-
Pate
Chronicle
ten there were wars between
Pate and Lamu and Mombasa
and Zanzibar. Sayid Majid of
Zanzibar conquered the whole
Swahili coast, islands and main-
land by the year 1282 (1865-6).
Sultan Ahmad, one of the Pate
rulers, had founded the town of
Witu some distance inland north
of the Tana River delta because
of being harassed by the Arabs.
Sultan Ahmad, after a series of
fights, made peace and lived
at Witu in allegiance to Sayid
Majid. When Sayid Majid died
in 1870, Sultan Ahmad swore
allegiance to his successor in
Zanzibar, Sayid Barghash. Sa‘id
Sudi, who had been Majid’s and
later Barghash’s chief Liwali in
“A seven-pounder field gun failed
to break down the gate”
Lamu, fought a war against the
bush dwellers at Katawa (this
was a colony of Watoro or runa-
way slaves). Sa‘id Sudi’s men
were defeated so they later went
to fight Witu to remove these
worrying bush dwellers. Sul-
tan Ahmad soundly defeated
the men from Lamu. Sa‘id Sudi
made peace with Sultan Ah-
mad.
Later Sayid Barghash put
Sa‘id Sudi out of office and
replaced him with Sa‘id bin
Hamed who was now the Liwali
of Lamu. The next year Sayid
Barghash sent Sa‘id bin Hamed
to Witu on a big expedition. He
instructed him, “Do not return,
but break into Witu or die. I will
send you more soldiers and mu-
nitions of war every day even if
I have to sell the turban on my
head.”
After the expedition set off,
the Germans sent a message to
Sayid Barghash. “If you fight
Witu, we will fight Zanzibar. Re-
call your troops. Do not so much
as break the leg of a chicken at
Witu.”
Sayid Barghash sent a let-
ter to his Liwali saying, “When
you have read this letter return
quickly and exercise great cau-
tion that you do not destroy
anything of the Witu people’s
property.”
Afterward the Germans
came in three ships and Sayid
Barghash sent General Math-
ews and divided the kingdom.
The mainland from Kwayu to
Mkokoni he gave to Witu, while
the island and every place sur-
rounded by creeks became
The Lost Pate Chronicle
Sayid Barghash’s. In March
1305 (1888) Barghash died. In
1306 (1888-89), Sultan Ahmad
of Witu died. His cousin Fu-
mobakari reigned in Witu. This
is when the trouble with the
Germans arose.
In the year 1308 A.H. (1890-
1) trouble arose between the
Germans and the people of
Witu.
There was a German called
Kuntzell who lived at Witu and
taught the soldiers military ex-
ercises. There were about thirty
who knew their drill, and the
Sultan intended giving him
many more to teach.
Kuntzell went off to Europe
and returned with ten Europeans
and many tools and instruments
for the purpose of clearing the
forest and doing other work.
They had agreed with the
OLD AFRICA..............13
Sultan to bring these things, but tion of Bwana Heri Makatwa seven in the morning they came
when he saw ten Europeans and and Bwana Ali Majesa, the Li- to the town and fought together,
many things, he grew afraid and walis of Mkunumbi and Hidiyo. and the Witu people were driven
thought that eventually, when When the British govern- away, and the white men seized
they had settled there, they ment heard the news, the consul the town and set fire to it and
would seize his country. So he and admiral came with fifteen broke the houses and set fire to
refused to let the forest be cut ships and sent a letter to Sultan the powder and percussion caps
down, and Kuntzell quarrelled Fumobakari, saying, “Come to for the matchlocks which were
with him and wanted to put his the ships at Shela; we will judge stored there.
Europeans with their arms in the fairly between you and the Ger- So the Witu people ran away
town. Till one day the Sultan mans, and we will make an ad- and entered the bush and went to
robbed them of all their arms by vocate for your side and you will Jongeni, and Pumuani and Kata-
a stratagem. (It is said that there be dealt with only according to wa. So the white men stopped in
was one entrance to the town law and equity.” Witu and in the evening returned
through a narrow low gate. The The Sultan answered, “It to Kipini. Afterward they put
Europeans came in one by one, is customary with us that if a 200 Sepoys and Sudanese sol-
and as each got inside he was man reigns he does not undergo diers in Kipini (at the mouth of
robbed of his arms without the judgement any more.”
others outside being aware of They answered,
it). “Send us one man
When Kuntzell went and from amongst your
found his comrades with no brothers, and Bwana
arms he was very angry and Heri and Bwana Ali
went to look for the Sultan Majesa, that they may
without finding him. He said to be tried for the white
his comrades, “Let us go out.” men who died at Witu;
When they went to the gate sol- there is no case as
diers stopped them and Kuntzell they began the affray.
shot two men. Then the soldiers, The other two white The flag of the Witu Protectorate which flew over
without an order from the Sul- men, however, who the city after the peace agreement was signed.
tan, when they saw two of their were killed, did not
friends had fallen, fired on the shoot anyone first, so it is neces- the Tana River delta) and two
Europeans. They killed all the sary to judge those Liwalis. The officers, one of whom was Mr.
Europeans, but not before Kunt- Germans have left these things Rogers.
zell had hit nine people. This in our hands for judgement, so Sultan Fumobakari went to
was the origin of the Witu expe- send them.” Jongeni and died soon after.
dition. He did not send them, and He was replaced on the
Now at Mkunumbi and On- that was the cause of the Witu throne by two younger broth-
goni (both towns on the coast expedition. ers in quick succession. The
near Witu) there were white men. On the third day they stormed second of these, Fumo ‘Umari,
These were killed at the instiga- Hidiyo and Mkunumbi, on the moved his residence to Jongeni.
tenth day of the sixth month af- In 1895 the British took over the
A re t h e re o t h e r h i d d e n ter Ramadhan. On the eleventh Witu Sultanate and made it a
manuscripts, which chronicle night of the month of Rabi‘al- British Protectorate.
the history of the East African awwal of the year 1308 at night
coast? Marina Tolmacheva the Witu people came to Kipini, This article was taken from The Pate
thinks so. She writes, “Sadly, so they fought them in the way Chronicle, edited by Marina Tolmacheva
and used by permission of Michigan
while more and different at a place called Shaka la Simba State University Press, East Lansing,
copies of Pate and other cities’ at half past twelve at night. 1993. The Pate Chronicle was edited and
histories may be confidently In the morning of the twelfth translated from MSS 177, 321,344 and
supposed to exist, the culture of Rabi‘al-awwal they went up 358 of the Library of the University of Dar
of the coast still prevents the to Witu and fought from two es Salaam and reproduced the versions
owners of these documents o’clock till five, and the Witu published by C.H. Stigand, Alice Werner,
M. Heepe, and Alfred Voeltzkow. These
from surrendering them to people slept in Witu and fastened were edited and partially translated by
government repositories or even the gates, and the white men slept Marina Tolmacheva with the assistance
revealing their existence.” at a place called Chakamba. At of Dagmar Weiler.

1 4 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005
 Hunt on Mombasa Island
Last Lion
1894 “Bwana, there’s a lion
on the island!” The
news came from two African
blacksmiths, who often prowled
about in the bush that covered
I peered into the gloom ahead and spied a large lion about twenty yards away.
most of Mombasa Island hunting
bushbuck with their old muzzle-
loaders. I had arrived in Mom-
basa two years earlier to work for
the Imperial British East Africa
Company and hadn’t heard of any
lions on the island.
Though sceptical, my friend
the late A.C.W. Jenner and I
headed into the bush to investi-
gate. To our surprise we found the
pugmarks of a lion about where
the Sports Ground is now located.
We also found a partially eaten
wild pig. I foolishly followed
the tracks into a clump of bush so
dense I had to crawl on my hands
and knees. The bush shut out the
sun so I couldn’t see the tracks. I
peered into the gloom ahead and
spied a large lion about twenty
yards away.
Hastily taking aim, I fired.
The lion roared mightily and
rushed away. I crawled out and
by Charles W. Hobley
saw my companions following
the wounded beast. It was nearly
dusk and we got one last glimpse
of the wounded lion before it
disappeared.
Photo by Bryan Adkins
The next afternoon we went
searching for the lion with some
additional guns and quite a few
Africans. We picked up the
tracks, but the lion slunk off. By
now the inhabitants of Mombasa
Island were in a wild state of
alarm. We had to dispose of the
wounded beast. Each afternoon
we tracked its wanderings, but we
sweated and tore our clothes to
shreds on the thorn bush without
finding the lion. This continued
for almost a week. On Sunday we
took a day off from searching.
That evening the two African
hunters appeared, one of them
wounded in the shoulder. They
had persisted and located the lion
in some bush at the extreme north
end of the island. They fired, but
the lion charged immediately and
knocked over one of them and
clawed him. They said the lion
had retired and collapsed.
The next morning Jenner and
I set off to collect the corpse, but
when we reached the scene there
was no trace of the lion. After
an hour’s search, we located the
lion lying in the grass appar-
ently dead. I knelt down and
covered it with my rifle as a
precaution. To my surprise,
it sat up. I fired at its head.
The lion bellowed a fero-
cious roar and charged. It
sprang at Jenner and bowled
him over like a rabbit.
The lion rushed into the
bush. I checked on Jenner.
Last Lion Hunt on Mombasa Island
I thought sure he’d been
killed, but to my relief he
soon sat up and expressed
his annoyance in very forc-
ible terms. His only injury
was a badly scratched upper
arm. He had been wearing a
corduroy coat over a flannel
shirt and the sleeves of both
had disappeared.
We heard the lion growling
and rolling about, but soon the
sounds faded away. We waited
a little before venturing into the
bush. We found the lion dead
about fifty yards away.
Attracted by the gunshots,
some Africans gathered. They
cut a pole, lashed the lion onto it,
and carried it in triumph through
the town. A horde followed. As
a joke they took the lion to the
Custom House to pay duty. They
said the lion had omitted to report
its arrival on the island. They
showed the lion to the Liwali
before taking it to the hospital to
be measured and weighted.
Jenner’s wound healed rap-
idly. I believe this was the last lion
killed on Mombasa Island.
T h i s s t o r y w a s a d a p t e d f ro m
Charles Hobley’s book, KENYA
From Chartered Company to Crown
Colony, first published in 1929, second
edition printed in 1970.
OLD AFRICA..............15
 Only in Africa.
A fishy story
Eric Bowyer, proprietor
of the Naivasha Stores, (later
Multiline) found a strange-
looking fish caught by acci-
dent in J.D. Hopcraft’s tilapia
net in March 1930. The fish
was gutted and dried and sent
to Andrew McCrae in Nai-
robi. Before sending the fish,
he wired McCrae asking him
to have the fish identified by
Van Someron at the museum.
McCrae was living with Emil
Jardin at the time. The fish ar-
rived before the wire and Jar-
din assumed some friend had
sent him a gift and he ate the
fish. When McCrae later re-
ceived the wire asking him to
have the fish identified, Jardin
had to dig through his dustbin
to find the fish skeleton. They
took it to Van Someron who
identified it from the bones
as a Black Bass. It was one of
56 that had been released into
Lake Naivasha by Dick Dent,
Naivasha’s Fish Warden, a
year earlier in February 1929.
Only In Africa
From Mervyn Carnelly’s informal
history of Naivasha
“Moo”staken identity
As a schoolboy at Duke
of York School in the 1950s,
I remember a group of sol-
diers from the Black Watch
who guarded the school. They
built a tower by the edge of the
school and armed soldiers kept
watch from their perch for any
Mau Mau intruders. One night
1 6 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
we heard three blasts from their
rifles. We grabbed our hockey
sticks and ran to the windows,
ready to defend our school.
Nothing happened. We waited.
Everything stayed calm. In the
morning we went out to find
what the soldiers had been fir-
ing at. Three dead cows, be-
longing to the headmaster, lay
near the guard tower, gunned
down in the night as suspected
Mau Mau attackers.
Tony Monkhouse, Naivasha
Zebra fat
to the rescue
In the late 1940s our fam-
ily was driving across the Ke-
dong Valley when our Model
A Ford broke down. We sat
next to our car as evening ap-
proached, certain we’d have
to spend the night. A Model
T Ford sputtered up to us,
steam spewing from its radia-
tor. “Do you have any water?”
the driver asked. We did, but
as it was getting late the driv-
er and his friend decided to
spend the night camped next
to our broken down car. The
next morning after breakfast
we topped up their radiator.
Then to our amazement, they
set a charcoal fire underneath
their engine. As the flames
rose up around the bottom of
their engine, we asked, “What
in the world are you doing?”
The driver smiled. Not only
had they run out of water,
they’d run out of oil as well.
But they had shot a zebra on
issue No.1
their trip, so they rendered the
zebra fat into an orange-red
oil and poured it into their en-
gine. “The zebra fat congeals
overnight, so we’re melting it
down,” the driver explained.
After a while he checked the
dipstick. Pronouncing the
zebra fat now warm enough
to serve as engine oil, they
cranked the Model T to life
and drove away.
Dilly Andersen, Nanyuki, Kenya
Piano to the Rescue
When I lived at Mumias I
had a small piano brought up
from the coast. The transport
involved a great deal of la-
bour. The piano was carried
part of the way by porters and
part of the way it was hauled
in a bullock cart. In 1900 I was
ordered by Colonel Ternan to
build a new headquarters for
the province in Kisumu where
the railway would have its ter-
minus. I packed the piano in
its case and it lay in storage
unused. Mr. P.H. Clarke later
offered to buy it from me so he
could resell it in Uganda.
I agreed and he left one
day from Kisumu for Entebbe
in a sailing dhow with the pi-
ano as cargo. About a week
later he staggered into my of-
fice, exhausted. He told me
they had encountered a bad
storm on the lake after leav-
ing Kisumu. It was night and
the dhow sank and the travel-
lers were dumped into the wa-
ter. Clarke swam around for a
October-November 2005
 while before bumping against
the piano, which was float-
...
ing. Soon the African boat
captain also clung to the piano
case. The rest of the crew were
never seen again. Clarke and
the captain hung onto the pi-
ano and floated until daylight.
They discovered they were
a few miles from an island.
They swam and pushed their
unusual life preserver and fi-
nally landed on the beach in
their piano boat. Some Afri-
can fishermen picked them up
and carried them back to the
mainland.
A friendly chief, Ugada
Ndiek, gave them food and
shelter. After Clarke regained
his strength, Ndiek fitted him
out with some old boots and
a hat and he marched back to
Kisumu and stumbled into my
office. It was a trying ordeal,
but Clarke survived with the
help of my floating piano.
Charles W. Hobley, adapted from
his book, KENYA From Chartered
Company to Crown Colony.
Rugby pitch blows up
When I was a student at
Prince of Wales School during
the Abyssinian Campaign of
World War II, the school was
evacuated from Nairobi to the
old Sparks Hotel in Naivasha
(now Naivasha Country Club).
We wanted a place to play
rugby so we cleared a rugby
pitch below the hotel down by
the lake’s edge. We slashed
down bushes, cut down papy-
rus, and raked all the cuttings
into piles. We set fire to the
mounds of rubbish and stood
back. Soon loud explosions
ripped loose from underneath
our bonfires of brush sending
us running. Apparently old
ammunition from years before
had been dumped in the lake.
We students had a theory that
it must have been dumped by
illegal white hunters trying to
avoid detection from govern-
ment authorities. As the lake
level had dropped, these am-
munition stores were now bur-
ied just inches below the grass
and our fires set it off.
Geoff Irvine, Naivasha, Kenya
The naked D.O.
Noel Kennaway, a new Dis-
trict Officer (D.O.) posted to
Turkanaland, set out on his first
foot safari through his parish in
early 1932. He wore a proper-
ly starched uniform as befitted
a representative of the Crown.
With the temperature above
100 degrees Fahrenheit and
sweating profusely he quickly
suffered from a severe case of
chafing in some delicate parts
of his anatomy. When his Tur-
kana companions learned of
his problem, they laughed and
advised him to go around with
no clothes on, just as they did.
For the next four weeks, Ken-
naway travelled around naked,
except for his sandals and of-
ficial topi helmet. Returning
to base he told his District
Commissioner, Roland Baker-
Beall, how he had solved his
chafing problem.
Baker-Beall responded
gravely. “Well, I’m not at all
sure what you did was in order.
I mean, we can’t have His Maj-
esty’s officers walking around
the district naked under noth-
ing more than a helmet. Even
if it doesn’t affront the natives,
what about the missionaries,
eh? What about the missionar-
ies?”
taken from the book
Jua Kali’s Voyage on the
Jade Sea by Ian Parker
Bamboo
Defeats Germans
Bamboo from Kenya saved
the day for allied troops in the
North African desert in World
War II.
South African troops head-
ed for the conflict in North
Africa set up a transit camp at
Lark Hill on Mt. Margaret Es-
tate in the Kedong Valley, just
below the spot where the Ital-
ian P.O.W.s built their chapel.
They needed bamboo to set
up their camp. Welles Devitt,
an AIM missionary at Kijabe,
took his crew of African men
from the Kijabe Industrial
School and cut the bamboo
from the Kinale forest above
the mission station.
When the South African
troops continued north, they
took lorry loads of thick bam-
boo to use as pipes for a fresh-
water system in the desert.
Soon after the South African
soldiers set up their bamboo
water system in North Africa,
the German army attacked.
The Germans took the camp
in a fierce fight. Desperate
for freshwater after the day-
long battle in the desert sun,
they tried to drink the water
in the bamboo water system.
To their shock, they found
that the South Africans had
used salt water to test the sys-
tem for leaks. Unable to find
any drinking water, the thirsty
Germans were defeated in the
ensuing counter attack.
Edith Devitt, Abbotsford, British
Columbia, Canada
Do you have a short, funny
story about something that
happened in Africa? Send your
contributions marked Only in
Africa to editorial@oldafric
amagazine.com, or by post to
Old Africa, Box 65, Kijabe,
Kenya 00220. Please keep
contributions to Only in Africa
under 350 words. Include your
name and address in case your
story is published. We pay
Ksh. 500/- for each published
story. Sorry, but we can’t return
submissions to Only in Africa.
OLD AFRICA..............17
“ThegreatestdayinKenya’shistory”--thelateJomoKenyatta,
Kenya’sIndependenceD
1963 - Jomo Kenyat-
ta, addressing
the crowd of over 40,000
people at Kenya’s Indepen-
dence Celebrations at a
temporary stadium set
up at what is now Uhuru
Gardens off Lang’ata
Road, said, “This is
the greatest day in
Kenya’s history and
the happiest day of my
life.”

Above:Jomo
K e n y a t t a
p re p a re s to b e sw o rn i n a s
Kenya’s first Prime Minister.

Left: Prince Philip the Duke

of Edinburgh salutes.

Right: Prince Philip, represent-

ing his wife Queen Elizabeth
and the royal family, delivers
a message as Britain hands
control of Kenya over to Jomo
K e n y a t t a ’s g o v e r n m e n t .

Ed Arensen, a missionary journalist, attended

the Independence Day celebrations in 1963 with his
cameras and took these historic photos.

1 8 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005

 The celebration and han- Below: Jomo Kenyatta stands in rapt attention next

Day
dover of power from British to Prince Philip the Duke of Edinburgh, as the Kenyan
colonial rule to Kenyan self-gov- flag is raised for the first time over independent Kenya.
ernment began on the evening
of December 11, 1963. Hours of
ceremonies and dancing filled
the evening. At midnight the
Union Jack was lowered and
Kenya’s new flag unfurled.
At first the flag refused to
open. The Duke of Edin-
burgh is reputed to have
whispered to Kenyatta,
“Do you want to change
your mind?” Kenyatta
grinned and watched
the night-time breeze
whip the flag open. The
crowd cheered. Kenya had
entered a new era.

Left: A Church leader ushers

the crowd before God’s pres-
ence as he prays for the newly
independent republic of Kenya.
Other religious leaders look on.

Right: Jomo Keny-

atta with his trademark fly-
whisk sits by Tom Mboya
as the independence cel-
ebrations get underway.

Left: Uhuru Gardens is located

off Langata road near the Carnviore
restaurant. It’s a quiet spot to remember the
place where Kenya received its independence.
photo by Brian Arensen

OLD AFRICA..............19
 History Mystery Contest
Win two free nights for two in Maasai Mara
inclusive of road transport. Look at the pictures
on these pages. Identify the building featured
on these pages and send us a true story about
some personal relationship with our mystery
building. Maybe you or someone from your
family helped to construct this building. Maybe
you know the background of some of the paint-
ings adorning the walls. Maybe someone you
know had a wedding in our mystery building.
Or maybe you worked on recent renovations.

In this, our first History Mystery Contest, we’re

giving you a fairly familiar landmark. But in the
future, we’ll have pictures of historic buildings
that aren’t as well known.

Send your answer to

this month’s mystery build-
ing along with your story to:
History Mystery Contest, Old
Africa Magazine, Box 65, Ki-
jabe, Kenya 00220. Or email your answer to: editorial@old-
africamagazine.com Editors will choose the winning en-
try. The winner will be announced in our next issue and
the story about the mystery building will also be printed.
Be sure to include your P.O. Box and telephone contacts
so we can inform the winner and tell him or her where
to collect the prize. Family members of Old Africa staff
members are ineligible to enter this contest.
2 0 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005
Contest Deadline: For this prize we have to receive your
entry by October 31, 2005

Our prize of 2 free nights for 2 in

Maasai Mara is provided cour-
tesy of Jet Travel, Koinange St.,
Rehani House, 7th Floor, P.O. Box
58805 00200 Nairobi. Tel: 310360
Email: info@jetravel.co.ke

OLD AFRICA..............21
Old Africa photo

Motorcycle transport for all!

Home guards line up for inspection.

Girls traveling to boarding school on the good old

Central tower at Hell’s Gate.

Train descends escarpment enroute through Rift Valley.

Watchtower built from poles.
2 2 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005
album

Djinn Palace, Naivasha.

Picnic at Crater Lake, Naivasha.

The gorge at Hell’s Gate.

Camp for Mau Mau detainees.

Field trip to the Bata shoe factory, Limuru.

OLD AFRICA..............23
 Joseph
Thomson
Visits Eburru
1884 Joseph Thomson,
the Scottish explorer,
arrived at Naivasha in 1884.
One day he hiked up a moun-
Joseph Thomson visits Eburru
tain now listed on maps as
Eburru but called by the Maa-
sai Oldoinyo Opurru mean-
ing the mountain of smoke or
steam. Here in Thomson’s own
words is the account of his trip
up Eburru. This excerpt comes
from Thomson’s book Through
Masai Land. Spellings for
place names have been left to
reflect the spellings of the day.
To the west of our camp
and forming a spur to the Mau
escarpment, rose the rounded
outline of Donyo Buru (Steam
Mountain). I resolved to visit
it, and ascertain for myself how
far it deserved the name, as it
would be important to make
sure that the volcanic forces
were still in action, however
mildly, in this interesting re-
gion. I contrived to get into the
good graces of a powerful Ma-
sai and cajoled him into guid-
ing me to the mountain. Select-
ing eight men, we set off on
our dangerous trip. Our way,
at first, lay across the grassy
plain which lies to the north of
the lake and we were amused
2 4 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
and delighted by the manner
in which the numerous herds
of zebra frisked and played in
the pure enjoyment of life and
utterly unconscious of danger,
within forty yards of us. Their
tameness certainly was most
attractive to me and a continu-
ous source of pleasure. I would
allow none of my men to
frighten them, though we could
easily have shot dozens. This
remarkable absence of fear is
due to the fact that the Masai
never molest them as they are
not eaten by that race. Though
they keep down the grass, they
are not even driven away, and
in those virgin fields, no sports-
man has yet appeared with his
thirst for blood. A couple of
hours brought us to a small
arm of the lake near the base of
Buru, the ascent of which, we
at once, commenced. Near the
bottom we noticed a great rent
along the side of the mountain,
looking exactly like a railway
rock cutting. (This was prob-
ably Masai Gorge. Ed.) The
rocks we found to be trychtic
with large bosses of obsidian
of the purest black. Rounding
a shoulder of the mountain,
we got a splendid view north,
issue No.1
along a narrow trough formed
by the contraction of the Dogi-
lani plain, the two escarpments
running from Naivasha north-
wards, parallel to each other
and rising abruptly to a height
of 9000 feet. In the meridianal
trough, lay gleaming the many
isled and papyrus-fringed lake,
cut off to the south by the coni-
cal peaks of Lolbitat and the
crater of Longonot, on the East
of which could be detected a
pretty parasitic cone of most
perfect proportions. North
of the lake lay the pale green
plain, then a darker stretch of
bush country with some irregu-
lar ridges; further on a strange
assemblage of skeleton trees,
dead through some secular
cause and marking the area of
the “Firewood Plain” (Angat
Elgek). This plain showed
striking evidence of the agency
of volcanic forces in forming
its surface features, for numer-
ous cones appeared here and
there, though the strangest of
all were the numerous lines
of faults crossing the trough
from side to side and raising
prominences not unlike the
earthworks of a fortified place.
Several faults ran across two of
October-November 2005
the cones and split them into a
curious assemblage of walls,
pinnacles and yawning rents.
Beyond the “Firewood Plain”
lay gleaming the pretty lakes
of Elmenteita and Nakuru, the
dark walls of the neighbouring
plateaux forming an admirable
contrast to the glimmering wa-
ters. In the far distance could
be descried the mountains of
Kamasia, and they were looked
at eagerly, for we know that the
mysterious Lake Baringo lay
at their base. Over the eastern
plateau -- here called Lykipia
-- a fine view of the splendid
mountain range of that region
was obtained, which looked
all the grander with the pictur-
esque effect of a storm-cloud
tumbling along its sides.
Having recovered our breath
and enjoyed thoroughly this
glorious landscape, we hurried
on, as we had our work cut out
for us if we hoped to get back
to camp that night. Rounding
the northern shoulder of Buru,
we passed a humpy parasitic
cone and then another, both of
which were largely composed
of obsidian. This brought us
to the steaming area, which
we were able to identify by
clouds of vapour and a curi-
ous puffing sound, exactly re-
sembling a steam-engine start-
ing work. Here our venerable
guide caused us to take grass
in our hands as we approached
the mysterious place. We soon
reached the holes, and to propi-
tiate the troubled spirits of the
earth, we threw our vegetable
offerings into a great pit, from
which, with curious regular-
ity were puffed or hissed out
clouds of steam, accompanied
sometimes, by gurgling, at oth-
er times by a rumbling noise.
This pit lies on the line of a rent
which can be traced a consider-
able distance down the side of
the mountain. Further along,
we came to the edge of a lava
cliff, and here the emission of
steam was most copious, as
though it were hissed out from
the safety valve of an engine.
The rock was so hot that my
men could not walk on it, and
it was decomposing, under the
disintegrating influence of the
steam, into a crimson-red clay.
This was considered to have
a wonderful medicinal virtue,
and my men painted themselves
all over with it. I, also, went to
the length of spotting my fore-
head with it. The altitude of
these steam holes is 7055 feet.
The conclusion I arrived at, af-
ter examining the ground, was
that the steam had not a deep-
seated source, but simply origi-
nated from the water percolat-
ing into a lava current on which
we stood, that lava having been
so lately ejected that it had not,
as yet, cooled down -- for it
is a well-known fact that lava
currents of any depth require
years to lose their original heat.
I saw no hot springs here, but
only the warm water left by
the condensation of the steam.
The whole aspect of our sur-
roundings strikingly suggested
(geologically speaking) quite
recent volcanic activity. Of
the mountain itself, it may be
said that it is a very irregularly
shaped mass of volcanic rocks,
its appearance, in no way, sug-
gesting a volcanic origin. An
examination, however, shows
that it has, frequently altered its
focus of eruption, while numer-
ous parasitic cones have risen
around it till the ejections have
destroyed the original coni-
cal shape of the typical
volcano. The height of
Buru would be a little
short of 9000 feet, but I
was prevented from as-
cending it by the threat-
ening appearance of the
sky. We hurried down
the hill and returned to
camp, getting in after
dark, though several
did not reach it until
three hours later. I had
been not less than elev-
en hours on my feet,
walking and climbing
as fast as I could, with-
out a moment’s rest,
and even the guide was
nearly done up.
Photos: On the slopes of Eburru steam
still pours from the gut of the volcano
at various locations characterised by
red clay. Residents today use pipes
and bamboo to harvest the steam for
drinking water.
OLD AFRICA..............25
 Friendly Fire
Ravages Home Guard Patrol
as told by David Mugo to Old Africa editors

1955 David Mugo and

his group of Home
Guards slipped into the black
African night in 1955 near
Uplands, Kenya, headed out
on patrol. Peter Nicholas, the
District Officer, moved out
in a different direction with
another group of Home Guard
askaris. They planned for
Friendly Fire Ravages Home Guard Patrol
One had been killed on the
spot. Nicholas felt terrible
about what had happened
and rushed Mugo and the
other wounded man to King
George Hospital in Nairobi.
The other Home Guard died
in hospital, but Mugo survived
and spent a month in hospital
convalescing. The doctors
removed one bullet but another
bullet or splinter was left
imbedded in his hip. Mugo
recovered but still carries in
his hip a reminder of the night
when friendly fire ravaged his
Home Guard patrol.

the two groups to meet up

at a junction later on during
the night.
At about 10 p.m. as
Mugo and his men worked
their way stealthily through
the thick brush searching
for Mau Mau, they heard
the sound of men. Thinking
they’d met up with Mau
Mau on a raiding mission,
Mugo and his men threw
themselves to the ground
and began firing at the
sounds in the dark bush.
Gunfire exploded as the
unknown group fired back.
Feeling the shock of pain in
his side and buttocks, Mugo
realized he’d been hit. Two
others near him also fell to
the hail of bullets. Another
Home Guard near Mugo
recognized the sound of
the gunfire as coming
from Peter Nicholas and
his men and not from Mau
Mau weapons. He began
shouting, “Ni sisi, ni sisi.
It’s us, it’s us.”
Peter Nicholas and his
group stopped firing and
hurried to Mugo’s group
and found three of his
own Home Guards shot.
David Mugo remembers his military actions as a Home Guard during the
Emergency and mourns the fact that the Queen never gave him a pension.

2 6 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005

 Mau MauI Was A General
by Alice Wanjiru as told to Old Africa

1952 I slipped into the

forest near Nyeri
in 1952 after the Declaration
of Emergency carrying only a
panga to fight for Kenya’s inde-
pendence from Britain. I joined
a group of Mau Mau freedom
fighters led by General Kago.
About 20 years old at the
time, I decided to fight against
the Home Guards after seeing
their harsh actions against the
women left alone in our vil-
lages. We had no security in
our village. The older men were
detained and the younger men
had gone to the forest to fight.
I felt it would be better to go to
the forest to be protected.
One of the oaths I took was
called ya tiiri. In this oath I
vowed to die fighting for my
country. After taking the oath I
felt I was independent to pro-
tect our independence. I would
never allow a rival to defeat us.

I Was a Mau Mau General

It brought commitment into my
fight.
My first battle was in the
Nyandarua forest at a place
called Tuthu. We confronted a
group of colonial soldiers with
guns. I managed to use my
panga to kill a soldier and take
his gun. From then on, I had a
gun to carry into battle. Every
time we fought, we made sure
we gathered something after
the battle. Often we collected
guns.
General Kago’s army num-
bered about 900, both men and
women. One day we encoun-
tered a large force of colonial
soldiers. I fought and killed a
soldier in that battle. He carried
a grenade and a rifle, which I
carried back to General Kago.
Alice Wanjiru says, “I’m old, but I remember those days
like they happened yesterday.”
When I gave him the grenade,
a rare find, he regarded it a very
great achievement and named
me a deputy general.
After this General Kago led
us into a fierce battle at Kara-
hwe. A bullet tore through my
Achilles tendon. Another bullet
grazed the front of my stomach.
We killed a good number of
soldiers that day, but we suf-
fered heavy losses. Worst of all,
the British killed General Kago.
Even with my wounds, I man-
aged to flee with ten rifles.
I was very sick from my
wounds. We decided to divide
up General Kago’s army. They
put me in charge of 197 people
and named me their general.
They called me General Wan-
jiru Kimani. Kago’s army
divided up into smaller groups
and spread out through the for-
est. We assigned about half the
groups to go to the villages to
find food. My job was to dis-
tribute the food to the Mau Mau
dispersed in the forest. We even
herded livestock into the forest.
Another woman helped me lead
our group as I recuperated from
my wounds.
Life in the forest was hard.
When Kenyatta was released,
the British told the Mau Mau to
turn in their guns. I buried one
gun in the forest and carried
one home-made gun to Manguo
(Maji ya Kiboko) near Limuru.
OLD AFRICA..............27
 The Lari Peace Museum
This interview with Alice Wanjiru was
organized by the Lari Peace Museum. Alice is
one of the board members for the museum along
with Joseph Kaboro and Joseph’s grandson,
Samuel Waihenya Njoroge. Kaboro and others
started the museum in Kimende in May 2001 to
bring reconciliation between the two groups of
Kikuyu involved in the Lari massacre on March
26, 1953. The massacre, where Kikuyu who
supported the Mau Mau fight for independence
killed 97 Kikuyu who were loyal to the British,
led to severe reprisals by the colonial powers
against the Mau Mau. Samuel Njoroge says,
“There are still unhealed wounds in the
community.” The Lari Peace Museum portrays
the hostilities of the past so today’s generation
can live in peace. Njoroge goes on, “There is
no future without forgiveness.”
Visits to the Lari Peace Museum can be
organized through Samuel Waihenya Njoroge
at 0720-919186.

a slave
1889
by Veronica Bellers
Frederick Jackson
Esca
The arrival of the trading their surplus produce to the
rescued an escaped caravan was an exciting event. traders’ camp.
slave who stumbled into his Bahati and her people rarely One day the traders an-
camp at Machakos. The wom- saw strangers and believed nounced they were going back
an’s name was Bahati, which they came in peace. The trad- to the coast. They told Bahati’s
means fortune or luck. Bahati ers seemed friendly, and asked people they needed to build a
was a “Kavirondo”, as the peo- for food. Bahati and others sold boma or stockade outside the
ple of Mumias and Kakamega
were then known. Bahati may
A Slave Escapes

not have been her real name, but

Jackson in his writings called
her Old Bahati. Bahati told her
story to Jackson.
A caravan of Arab/Swahili
traders arrived at Bahati’s vil-
lage earlier in the year in the
area known as Ketosh near the
Uganda border. Abdulla bin
Hamid led the caravan. Jackson
knew Abdulla’s brother, Said
Bin Hamid, the Liwali of Lamu,
who was a good and respected
man. But Jackson wrote of
Abdulla as “an arrant coward,
a past master in cruel and low-
down intrigue” whose greed
was limitless. A tree trunk with a Y-shape on one end tethers a captured slave.

2 8 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005

village. They said they would
move into it to ensure the por-
ters would not melt away into
the bush before the safari. The
foremen said they would need
much produce for their trip, and
the traders would pay double
the market price. They told Ba-
hati’s people to bring the food
to the newly built boma on the
appointed day of departure.
Bahati and many other wom-
en and children came bringing
!
chickens, eggs, yams, millet and
maize to be sold. Once they had
crowded into the boma the trad-
ers slammed the gates shut
s
and locked them in.
They seized the
e
women
p
along with
the children. Any
man who tried to fight was
shot.
Bahati does not relate in de-
tail what happened to them im-
mediately after their capture but
from another contemporary ac-
count describing the practice of
A village in Tanganyika, which has been devastated
by slavers, illustrates to what happened to Bahati’s village
slavers in East Africa, they were
probably all stripped, the boys
castrated and shackled while
the young girls were raped at
every halt night and day.
After walking three hun-
dred miles along the route to
the coast they came to a place
called Nzawi, in the country of
Ukamba. When Bahati saw a
chance, she ran away.
Bahati’s escape was a brave
act. She risked being caught
and punished. She
didn’t know
how she
would
ever get
home
again,
even if
she did avoid
recapture by the
slavers. Bahati didn’t
say how long she wan-
dered naked and alone through
the lion-infested bush. But she
stumbled across Jackson’s camp
at Machakos about forty miles
north of Nzawi.
Jackson’s men brought Ba-
hati before him. She must have
thought him a strange looking
creature. His photograph shows
him to be angular, with a promi-
nent nose, a large moustache
that hid his mouth and bushy
brows over deep-set eyes, one
of which sported a monocle. At
that time he was an employee
of the newly formed British
East Africa Company and he
had been asked by the compa-
ny’s administrator, Mr. George
Mackenzie, to go to Machakos
to await reinforcements of men
bringing goods to trade. He had
also been ordered to make trad-
ing treaties with the tribes he
met en route.
Bahati pleaded with Jack-
son to take her back to her own
country of Ketosh. He imme-
diately agreed and ordered an
issue of cloth to cover her and
asked “old Sadi” to take care of
her.
Jackson’s party reached
Ketosh in December 1889 but
the peaceful rural land Bahati
had known was no more. Jack-
son wrote, “Numerous ruined,
burned and abandoned villag-
es” scattered the area bearing
testimony to the treachery of
Abdulla bin Hamid and “that
prince of rogues, fat Sudi of
Pangani”, while the gates of
the still-inhabited villages were
strongly barricaded and only
one or two people peeped out
over the walls. Small columns
of smoke were the only evi-
dence that these villages were
occupied; “inside them all was
silence.”
Bahati showed true cour-
age and resourcefulness as she
escaped from the slave traders.
Not many who were captured
ever found their way home
again. Her story is a rare beacon
in the dark history of the slave
trade. Her return to her people
must have been a talisman of
hope amid the tragedy and loss.
Bahati’s story is told in Early Days in
East Africa by Sir Frederick Jackson.
The description of how Swahili slavers
dealt with newly captured slaves was
related by a man called Mbarak, to
Captain Meinertzhargen. Kenya Diary
1902 – 1906.
OLD AFRICA..............29
 Historic
Photo Contest

Historic photo of the month

The corner of Bazaar Street, Nairobi, c.? Anyone who knows the approximate date of this
photo can email us at: editorial@oldafricamagazine.com

Do you have some old photographs hidden away in a trunk? Or a collection of family memo-
ries in an old photo album? Dig them out. Blow off the dust. Enter your best historic photo
of East Africa in our photo contest for the chance to win a free 16 X 20 enlargement of the
image of your choice.
This photo contest is sponsored by
Spectrum Colour Lab at ABC Place on Waiyaki Way, Nairobi.
Entry Rules: Bring your photo to Spectrum Colour Lab and tell them you want to enter your photograph
in our Historic Photo Contest. Be sure to leave your contact information with your photograph so it won’t
get lost. If possible, name the photographer and year the photograph was taken. Spectrum and Old Africa
magazine will judge the best photos considering criteria such as balance, lighting, composition, and his-
torical value. The winning photograph will be featured in the December issue of Old Africa. Those whose
photographs do not win the first prize may be considered for publication on our Photo Album department
in a future issue. We pay Ksh. 500/- for each photo published in our Photo Album pages. Photos that aren’t
chosen for publication can be collected from Spectrum Colour Lab after November 10, 2005. Old Africa is
not responsible to mail photo entries back.

Contest Deadline: Contest entries must be hand-delivered to Spectrum

Colour Lab by October 31, 2005, to be considered for judging.

3 0 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t issue No.1 October-November 2005

We’re hunting - for stories
Writer’s Guidelines
Stories. Everyone loves a good story. Stories grip us. They en-
thrall us. They entertain and teach us at the same time. We started Old
Africa magazine to capture stories about East Africa’s past before they’re
lost. Some stories can be found in old books and magazines about Africa.
But many more stories are buried in the memories of those for whom East
Africa is home. We need people who are willing to dig those stories out
and write them for us.
We’re looking for well-told stories from East Africa’s past. A story
retells a particular event from start to finish. Good stories should fo-
cus on some conflict and its resolution. We want tightly written prose
with an emphasis on action. Stories should also unveil some forgotten
corner of East Africa’s history.
If you can write your story and send it to us, we’d love to look at it.
And if it meets our requirements, we’ll publish it. For some who have sto-
ries but don’t have the time or inclination to write, contact us and we’ll
do our best to set up an interview date where you can tell Old Africa
your story and we’ll write it for you.
When you send us stories, here’s what we need from you.
Length: Average story length should be between 1000 and 1500
words. On rare occasions we will consider longer manuscripts. Short
humorous stories for our Only in Africa page should not exceed 350
words in length.
Topics: We’re looking for human drama, adventure, pioneering ef-
forts, humour, man versus nature, sporting events, hunting expeditions,
faith-based stories and more.
Submission policy: Stories should be typed in double-spaced
format and mailed to: The Editors, Old Africa Magazine, Kifaru Edito-
rial Consultants, Box 65, Kijabe, Kenya 00220. We will return unsolic-
ited manuscripts only if
accompanied by a self-
a d d r e s sed en v elope
with sufficient postage
stamps. If you have ac-
cess to email, you can
email your story to us at
editorial@oldafricamag-
azine.com
Pay Rates: We
will pay writers Ksh.
1/- per published word. photo by Mike Adkins
Payment will be made upon publication. Published
writers will also receive two free copies of the magazine in which their
story appears.
OLD AFRICA..............31
The LAST Story
Hyena attack!
Adapted from an article by Marie Bartlett in the East African Annual, 1952-1953
1916
Margaret Malcom-
son woke to the
shouts and screams of the
women in the tent beside hers.
Her mind couldn’t grasp what
was happening. The screams
grew louder and she heard the
snarl of wild beasts. Hyenas!
Margaret had only arrived
at Tumutumu mission the year
before. During the famine of
1916 the rains failed for three
seasons in a row and the mis-
sion neared starvation. Mar-
garet set out with twenty-eight
African women to look for
food at Fort Hall where they
heard they could still buy
maize.
The fierce sun split Marga-
3 2 . . . . . . S t o r i e s f ro m E a s t A f r i c a ’s p a s t
ret’s lips open forcing her to
wear a mask over the lower
part of her face. Weakened
by lack of proper food, the
women struggled through the
lonely, animal-infested path.
Hyenas began to dog their
trail. Although the hyenas had
already gorged themselves on
the bodies of those who had al-
ready died of hunger, they had
grown bold and followed the
little party of women hoping
to eat live flesh.
Arriving at a waterhole, the
women set up camp. Margaret
slept in a small tent with three
women while the rest of the
women slept in a larger tent.
That night the hyenas bur-
issue No.1
photo by Bryan Adkins
rowed under the large tent and
attacked.
On hearing the screams
Margaret bolted outside and
waded into the confusion of
terrified women and hostile
hyenas. She drove the hyenas
away and with the dim light of
a hurricane lamp, spent the rest
of the night bathing wounds
and bandaging those who had
been bitten by the hyenas.
The group limped on to
Fort Hall and bought the des-
perately needed maize. After
recovering from their journey
Margaret and her team carried
the food back to Tumutumu,
rescuing the mission from
starvation.
October-November 2005
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