Because of the ongoing drought, water was becoming very scarce. To such an extent that their beloved cows and goats, which were their sign of wealth, were starting to die, leaving their owners with no food and no milk to drink. This leaves the people frail, but they are still both physically and mentally strong. The best example that showed this was one small boy, around twelve years old, carrying a barrel of water in the scorching heat to his family. We gave him a lift to his hut, which we thought would only be around the corner, but it turned out to be a ten minute drive. I cannot imagine how the young boy carried that heavy barrel everyday across the bush land to his family, who live so far away from the waterhole. Again, he had a large smile on his face, which I was unable to explain, as I am sure that no twelve year old in England would be able or willing to do the job that the young boy’s family depended on.
The tribal people that occupy this village are so poor and have to make the most out of everything. The phrase “One man’s waste is another man’s treasure” is especially true here. I gave some old shirts to a good friend and he was electrified by this act of generosity. I had just increased his wardrobe from one shirt to three! Each time I saw him in the village he was wearing my shirt and was so proud of it!
The most amazing element about these villagers is that they do not complain about any aspect of their life out in the African Bush, completely shut away from the rest of the world. They live such an extreme life, yet their attitude towards it is remarkable. Never have I had such fun playing snooker than in a poorly built “pub” with these lively, yet relaxed Kenyans. On a Saturday night, the village will be alive with music, preparing for church the next day.
The Sunday church service, in a wooden building, which was falling apart, was so lively with everybody praising out aloud. I was the only outsider in this service and they were kind enough to provide an English version of The Bible and the man next to me kept me informed of what was happening. Somehow they had obtained an old electric keyboard, which because there was no electricity, had to be powered by a large battery pack. This keyboard was the highlight of the service and the pianist had obviously spent many hours practicing and certainly enjoyed every second of it.
All too soon, it was time to leave this wonderful place. Although the village itself was the most basic place that I had ever experienced, it was enriched by its inhabitants. I was made so welcome and leaving was so hard, even though I could not wait to sleep in a proper bed again! The experiences that I had there with the locals will never leave me and they unquestionably changed me. It has made me realise how lucky we are and how we do not realise this and take it for granted. I will definitely return to this poverty stricken paradise when the chance arises and for those who have not been as fortunate, I would strongly advise you to take a journey to places of poverty, because as strange as it may seem, it will be the greatest experience of your life.