After our swift journey back to the campsite our vehicle was met by shocked tourists and locals and the campsite soon filled up with worried tourists inspecting the arrow holes and shattered window of our minibus. Yvette headed off to try and wash out the broken glass from her hair and clothes while I tried to contact the British High Commission to report the incident and get advice. Other tourists did likewise, some started to comprehend the situation. As reports of fuel stations closing as they ran out of fuel, people calculated whether they had enough fuel to escape or enough food to stay at the campsite. Kikuyu, desperate to escape the killings which were happening congregated at the campsite in the hope of a safe lift out. Tourists received calls from desperate Kikuyu, some who had already been badly beaten begging for help.
My attempts to get assistance from the High Commission were futile as they were on holiday, however, the Dutch, German and Japanese tourists had more luck and where able to pass on the advice to hold tight and follow the advice of our tour operator as the whole country was descending into violence. All we could do was to pack our bags, valuables in a grab bag, passport in our pocket and enough money on us to get out. Everything was in the minibus to go at a moment’s notice.
That night we headed off with 6 German tourists to a hotel down the road to celebrate the New Year, one of the more tense new years I have had. But, the company was good and the entertainment of African dancing, fireworks / explosives and interesting food still made it memorable. As did out minibus being pelted with bottles as we headed back to the campsite by a small mob in the town. We didn’t seem to be having much luck.
As we slept hippos brushed against our tent and loudly munched on the vegetation growing around the campsite. We were woken at 5.00am by our driver who had managed to arrange a convoy out. I went to find the Germans we had shared New Year with. One couple had already escaped, driving through the night to miss the roadblocks and get safely to Nakuru. The other couples had low fuel and would have to sit out the violence until help arrived.
Our convoy consisted of an overland truck with 20 Dutch tourists on it, another minibus with a Japanese couple, a car with a Dutch doctor, her husband and two children, a small lorry taking their goats to market in Nairobi and a Kikuyu family desperate to get back to safely. Our first stop was the police station at 6.00am to get a police escort. This was no easy task, 3 hours of negotiations achieved little. After 3 and a half hours our guide suggested we pay them, a minute later we each had an armed police officer in the front of each vehicle and their Landrover started up and ready to go. Unfortunately they couldn’t escort us all the way through the troubled area as part of it was out of their jurisdiction. Another hour of discussion took place and finally a route taking us across the back road up to the top of the Rift Valley and to the safety of Kikuyu lands was decided. We finally left at 11.00.
The route is along very dusty and rocky roads, roads which are never travelled by tourists due to risk of banditry and their remoteness. The journey was of two contrasts, the first travelling through amazingly desolate countryside, with the occasionally village of brightly painted mud huts. The rugged countryside looked like it couldn’t support anything, but still small
groups of people lived here.
The dust from the road clogs our view of the other vehicles
The other side of the journey was the toughness of it. The dirt roads kicked up clouds of dust and you couldn’t see the vehicle 200m in front of you because of the clouds. Everyone had wrapped t-shirts over their mouth to stop the dust from chocking them. Our faces where quickly black with the dust and the road was taking its toll on the vehicles. The first to breakdown was the overland truck, followed by the minibus with the Japanese tourists in it. Both repaired quickly by drivers who had as much knowledge of the creatures and people of Kenya as they did of mechanics.
Soon the first challenge was thrown at us. A river had to be forded, its steep exit meant it was all hands in building exit ramps out of stones to allow the car to get enough purchase to exit. 40 strangers started to become a team a
nd the other vehicles quickly made it across the ford. However, it was now the turn of the lorry to breakdown.
The steep ford with the broken down lorry in the background and police in the foreground
The roads got steeper as we climbed up the rift valley zig zagging up seemingly impossible slopes. We frequently had to stop as the vehicles struggled, the terrain was taking its toll on the cars clutch and every time it stopped on a slope we were all out pushing it up the steep hills.
Everyone out of the vehicles helping get the car through. The overland truck can be seen in the distance
Then on one of the steepest sections the lorry slid back out of control and rolled. The driver was flung out, but the passenger wasn’t so lucky, trapped in the cab his leg was broken in three places. I arrived to find the road covered in dead and dying goats, many more were still trapped inside the crushed lorry. By the smell some had already been dead a long time before the crash. The over land truck and majority of the police escort were out of radio contact and couldn’t be called back. But those of us left pulled together.
Our first aid kits were out the van and myself and the Dutch doctor started to splint up the casualty’s leg. Everyone else jumped into action and the Japanese girl nursed him throughout, setting up shelter from the mid day sun and helping him drink. Her husband got to work freeing the surviving goats from the crash while Yvette ferried up water and any drugs we had for the casualty. It felt an honour to be part of a team which hours before had never met but now were pulling together like a trained unit.
After an hour of frantic work the police Landrover noted our absence and returned in time for us to put the casualty in the back. With just 30km left we now had some of the steepest terrain to cross. With the car’s clutch burning out and the risk of some of the vehicles rolling like the lorry we were regularly in and out of different vehicles. I spent most of the next hour in and out of the police Landrover surrounded by armed police. We jumped out on the steepest terrain to help push the car through it. Yvette sat in the front with an armed officer on either side being given a personal tour of the area, an experience she is unlikely to ever forget. All this in the afternoon sun was exhausting. Then we came over the top of the rift valley to be met by a
view which few tourists have ever see, from the back of the Landrover I could see across the Rift Valley, it was spectacular.
The rugged countryside as we rose out of the rift valley
Then it was all over we were safely in Kikuyu lands and paid our police escort and headed out for the second leg of the journey. It had been 5 long exhausting hours. At Nyanhuru we said goodbye to the convoy, the remaining vehicles had insufficient fuel to continue to Nairobi and decided to camp for the night. We took on the Kikuyu family to try and get them back to Nairobi. But low on fuel it was still uncertain if we could make it. Our driver was confident we were safe, but with every face looking Alien we didn’t share their confidence. I still felt like a rich westerner who would be easy pickings for any opportunist. On the main high road to Nairobi we found the only petrol station with fuel, charging double the usual price, but it was our only option. It was dark by now and still 2 hours to Nairobi, at the petrol station, a police vehicle rushed by, attending to riots which had broken out in Naivasha, a town we would shortly have to drive through. The rest of the journey went fairly easily, except for the Zebra which bolted out in front of us and bounced off the front of the minibus, adding to the damage we had already received. We passed numerous police road blocks which gave us some notion of safety and then finally we were in Nairobi and safety, it was 9.30pm , some 15 hours after our journey started at the campsite and after 10 hours on the road. A proper, bed and shower were much appreciated.
The next day we were able to bring forward our flights out of Kenya, unfortunately the riots had now started in Nairobi and on the day of our flights mass protests were being planned. Confined to our hotel we watched the news, the Kenya news service broadcasting pictures of a calm and peaceful country, the BBC and CNN of people being hacked to death and the police firing into the crowds. On the day of our departure the police closed off the center of Nairobi and cracked down hard on the rioters. Our driver dressed up for the occasion and managed to persuade the police road blocks that we needed to get into the center. Safely behind police lines the journey to the airport was uneventful and soon it was all over and we were out of Kenya.
We left a beautiful country in turmoil, with tribes attacking tribes, politicians clinging desperately to power and a country which was the picture of African stability in tatters. Yvette has resolved that she will return, but with reports getting worse this seems to be unlikely to be any time soon. I hope we can get back some time.
Our Bit of Paradise beside the Paddy Fields
