16/11/2016 – 19/11/2016
This was the day of arrival. The journey was long and tiresome and people were really exhausted to say the least. The sun was sky high in the clouds and the heat was unbearable. No sooner did you quench your system than the water started oozing from your every pore in your body. The stop over at Mtito Andei was a huge help to say the least to many who refreshed and regrouped the energy lost to be able to carry on with the journey. And so did we arrive at Mombasa some few minutes to 1 p.m. Drama was nowhere to be seen but it was inevitable. People scattered to look for hotels to sleep in for the rest of the stay and also freshen up before embarking on the long adventure of touring the beautiful island.
The first stop was at Pirates beach. Everyone could use the sound of waves and the sight of the vast blue waters from the now one and a half day usual white dust, sun and the speeding Maasai bus. A place with beautiful almost naked people soaking wet, the foods, the colourful attires, white sand and the cool breeze that made sure you forgot the heat experience earlier, who would refuse that? You wouldn’t ignore the smooth sound of the water waves either. They beckoned you like fries and chicken wings to a model on a diet. And so did most of us get dressed up for the soothing water. We explored the beach, bought the Swahili culture and almost completely blended with the natives. I won’t lie, I have always wondered how they could tell us apart from their own. we embellished our Swahili with accents, wore their outfits but still. I mean even one recognized we were from Moi university. Abhi! Witch craft be real na! Or maybe you know better. I could use some insight here.
The evening flew by and dusk approached. We were ready to leave the cool waters and into Maasai’s speeding den. Snacks were not left behind either which had many run for their bowels. Basi watu walinyambua. Vitenzi vilikua vya drrrrr! (the grenade) sssss! (the silencer) ppppp! (no controlla) and uffff! (the wake up and walk ten miles from the source). And then at that corner windows stuck and wouldn’t open…
Mtwapa the city of Mere and Messi 3:16 (they wept), apparently, was waiting for us. We dressed up and with Mombasa raha as our humble abode it made sure we would experience what raha meant. We left for mtwapa. The night was still young and pockets were vibrating with cash. You wish you were us. Lambada was the hub. But don’t let the name fool you, though we eventually made lemonade out of lemons. Drinks were served and aerobics/acrobats danced for us. Some not so experienced in the guzzling department broke their virginity here with just one shot of Smirnoff black ice and they were gone. The experienced drank to their fill. People danced and some tried to get some with no luck or did they? I leave it on the night for more information. None wanted to leave but we had to since drama was catching fast with us. Soon rather than later, clothes were removed vomit was thrown up of which neither appeased the drama gods because finally they were with us.
In three, two, one, Congestina was revived.
One was on top of the other grabbing the neck and digging claws deep enough to kill. While the other tried to save themselves from the grip, people started shouting and the driver who was ready to take us back to our rooms in a hoarse voice declared he wouldn’t carry fighting chics. I’m not so enlightened with animal kingdoms but let’s categorise chics under birds. The eagle wouldn’t let go. It removed feathers from the hen and when that did not feel enough it went for the breast. Let’s now leave the birds alone. In short, hair was pulled out, people shouted, others helped because titties were almost pulled out and by the time the climax point started depreciating, many had already used what they had seen to decide not to board that particular Nissan. The driver went back in the car and as the courageous few we carried on with the journey back to town. We were sitting on egg shells. The air was chilled and hearts beat fast. My prayer was please drama calm your titties also, because we can’t handle any more or we might just decide to turn on you and bite yours too. Everyone got in sync with frustration. If not from a friend it was from circumstances. Some vented but none cared because as media students there was no psychology taught. And as much as we would try to help, either sleep distracted us or the fear of saying the wrong thing lest be served as the next piece of meat on the drama club. But I think a more simple thought, none of my business sufficed. You don’t wish you were us now eh!
Confusion wouldn’t leave us alone either. The driver says this, we argue that. Tupeleke California, enda express, weka dox, apana weka kwa mapembe. At least here people came together for a common purpose. To argue our way into our comfortable beds. The conclusion was reached and we alighted ready to go to sleep. None would blurt out the incidents that happened earlier. Was it fear or just selective amnesia, perhaps the confusion in the last few seconds had helped us gain consciousness. As soon as we entered our rooms did another noise break out. Mbwa wewe, yaani unaeza nitusi this was followed by another tug of war to finish what wasn’t completed earlier. As good Samaritans we had to intervene and also host one of the fighters or let’s say we adhered to the saying that, out of sight out of mind.
It was now 3 a.m. and none had enough strength of retelling what had happened or following through the cause of this rapture with a clear mind. Sides were hard to pick but as a writer information was still priceless.
Sleep swept our young minds away and considering the next day would be a busy one, everyone resolved to shutting down. What felt like few minutes later had morning as the evidence. We woke up a bit hangovad over last night’s shenanigans and since these were the highlight, the story began again. This time facts much further from the reality show launched 6 hours ago or the cause of what you would call wasted war III.
On the small walk towards the bus we made sure to leave this abomination there. Everyone was composed and calm ready for the educational trip. We had batted eyelashes, clean faces minty breaths and unique styles to complement our looks. I just couldn’t forgets these words said by one of us though, ni mchana ngoja siku ikuche utaona, climax bado. This was true because that night as anticipated the war broke out. This time harder than the last. Cat fights are an understatement. When you see such a pounce this town revives the little Swahili you subconsciously know that, again mwenye nguvu mpishe. The scenario goes like, Congestina congestinad her counterpart in a congested room. This was not a tourist attraction to keep us sightful as we had anticipated when we set for Mombasa, but it kept us mouthful till the last day. And without knowledge, drama died out and we prepared ourselves for the last day of our little vacation.
The picture used was taken by the author along Fort Jesus footpath. The works of art displayed are the embodiment of the beautiful and cultural pieces Kenya is made of. The image represents the contemporariness of the events in this diary in a complex artistic way which speak more than a thousand words, since that’s what this diary is made of.