“There was one place that I simply adored. It was not the Conference Room- though it was elegant; it was not the well-kept grass lawn; it was not the food, though I feasted like King; but it was the ocean”
I had been to Mombasa once—last year. I had been lucky to be a part of the team of students who were going to Shimo La Tewa Prison to offer legal aid to the remandees and prisoners. I remember how we frolicked at the beach on our day of departure. I had slept at Danpark Hotel and Apartments, a cosy affair at that—now I understand why people are afraid of death. As a group, we had enjoyed a boat ride, bought hats made from palm leaves and drank coconut ‘juices’. That was then and I totally enjoyed it.
This year, last week to be precise, I got another opportunity to tour the coastal town. Only that this time it was filled with grandeur and pomp that still amazes me. I had never been to a plane before. Before the Sunday of 11th March this year, a mention of a plane was something far-fetched for people of class and means. Not for a pastoralist boy like me. But there I was, carrying a small nike bag at the Departure point. Inside the Jetlink plane, a voice said, “Welcome passengers to Jetlink 405, Captain Wambugu would be the pilot…” This wasn’t happening to me! In the office, my senior had warned me that the take-off was usually something sudden and if one is not accustomed to, then it would be advisable for one to have something to chew, like a gum. I had a generous supply of it and I made a point of chewing it as if I was being paid. You can imagine my disappointment when the take-off was nothing more than a small weird sensation I was accustomed to in elevators in the storey buildings of Nairobi.
Within 45 minutes, we were in Mombasa. Somebody should have had a camera to capture this moment. My folks back at home would have elevated me to a Chief! If being at a plane was exciting enough, I was highly mistaken. In the company of my three other colleagues, I was chauffeur-driven to the Serena Beach Hotel and Spa. We checked in into the hotel. A kind attendant in a Swahili turban and kanzu led me to my hotel room. The room overlooked the beach and from the balcony I could let my eyes swim on the ocean.
There was one place that I simply adored. It was not the Conference Room- though it was elegant; it was not the well-kept grass lawn; it was not the food, though I feasted like King; but it was the ocean. I had woken up early at around 6 a.m. and walked along the coastal beach, letting the ocean waters lap at my feet. I had run about three times along the beach and it felt so good and pure doing this before sunrise. I had rested on a fallen coconut treebark and did some push-ups. I had then observed the white crabs. A beach boy told me that they were friendly but I was always amused at how they could run into their ‘sand-holes’ upon hearing my footsteps.
As I was walking, I stumbled upon a board informing me of the preservation efforts of turtles at Serena Beach and Spa. In that case, turtle nests are rescued and eggs protected. Once enough small turtles have hatched they are released to the sea. I discovered another startling fact: that sex of the turtles was determined by temperatures. Temperatures above 30oC determines females while below that determines males. The ones which are protected are the Green, Hawskbill and Loggerhead.
I also managed to tour Fort Jesus and Mama Ngina Drive. At Mama Ngina Drive, I was shown where slaves had to pass through—a dark, underground tunnel of almost two hundred metres—so that they could not escape. I spent a lot of time at Fort Jesus. It was a historical trip into the days of slavery. Inside one of the underground caves we were told how about 60 slaves could be crowded in two small spaces. It amused me to be told of their ‘latrine’ which was a small hole carved on a wall and the waste was washed away by the ocean water. I saw a replica ‘body’ of a supposedly Portuguese boy who were told was brave. Finally we were shown the ‘auction’ where slaves were picked from as if they were market wares.
And as I left Mombasa a week later, inside a KQ plane, I thought about my experiences at Mombasa. From the high grounds, my perspective was confirmed that there was a reason as to why many tourists flock Mombasa. Having sampled a few of what made the travel tick, I am happy to announce that they have been right all along.
Salem Lorot is a lawyer currently pursuing a post-graduate diploma in law. He is a published poet with a running blog, http://lorotpoetry.blogspot.
com , a writer and an avid reader. He has written extensively on a wide range of issues on law and society. He is a connoisseur of the music in East Africa, fashion, cuisine and his regular staple is the entertainment industry with the manifold twists and turns. His interests are informed by themes of social justice and interactions with diverse groups in Kenya.
Photo Credits: Mombasa Serena Hotel
