Kendu Bay

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If you come from anywhere past Ruiru, please let’s set a few things straight right off the bat; not every jang’ comes from Kisumu! Kisumu is not a village for the love of Jove! It’s a cosmopolitan city; guys go there to make hay, just like in Nairobi or Nakuru or any other town. Folk pay rent there. There are clubs and Mpesa shops and big banks and streets and coffee houses and hookers. It’s a city, not anyone’s shags. It’s the hub of Nyanza province.

The reason I’m saying this is because everybody who hasn’t been past Kikopey believes that Kisumu is every Luo’s shags. That if I went to shags and, say, Jay Bonyo of KTN went to shags we would bump into each other in a river in Kisumu because, supposedly, by the virtue of our tribe we all come from one place. Nyanza is about, what, over 16,000 km square in size? Some come from the south of it, others from those sides of Siaya. I mean just because you are Kamba doesn’t mean when you go to shags you all end up in Machakos. OK, maybe that’s not the best example, because do Kaos really go to shags? Because the few kaos I know are always left behind in the city to keep the lights on when we all leave for shags. Miss Mulei, what’s the inside story on Kambas and seeking refuge in the city?

When I was in shags I would get calls from people who would go; so Biko, how’z Kisumu? For the longest time I thought it was amusing but then it got tiresome explaining the geography.

I’m from a little sleepy township in South Nyanza called Kendu Bay. You probably haven’t heard of it. It’s a bay town about an hour and a half drive from Kisumu on a private car and about double that in a mat because it will stop in every stage and at some point during the journey the driver will leave you guys stewing in the hot matatu and go have lunch in some hut by the lake.

Kendu is not known for anything, other than the fact that our women are fun loving. That music lives in their bosoms.

We – as is a good part of Nyanza- are generally poor. We grow millet. We grow maize. We grow Cassava. All in subsistence. And we fish. A lot. Our roads aren’t worth talking about. My MP is Eng. James Rege, before him was Adhu Awiti. Both haven’t risen above mediocrity, both have done little more for us than join the nauseating ODM sycophancy. Yes, I’m bitter.

My leaders aren’t rouble rousters like the Khalwales or Waititus of the world. I can’t remember the last time my leader stood up to speak in parliament. But I guess they are simply being Kenduans, they are playing to the DNA of Kendu; we keep our head low, we stay in the shadows and we do our thing without fanfare, without a colorful production. We aren’t extremely learned, but we have gone to school. We wear education on our sleeves; it makes everything seem all right.  Like our women, we are fun loving and we love the good things (who doesn’t?). But what keeps our seams together is that we are extremely proud. We won’t beg. We won’t plead. And we won’t kiss anyone’s ass. We are from Kendu Bay.

And so going back to shags always is a moment of pride. Even when the earth has been scorched by the sun and the granaries have been emptied by hunger.  Even when hyacinth has chocked half the lake and the fishermen struggle to drag it out of the way because it covers their children’s food.  Going back feels right.

I took many pictures while down there last week unfortunately most were just funeral pictures which won’t interest you much. Unless you want to see one of my cousin’s slit open a sheep’s throat with a knife everyone warned him wasn’t sharp enough. It was a mess.

But there are a few pictures you might want to look at, it will give you a glimpse into where I come from:

This road signage – on my way to shags – announces an area. I found it suitably quirky. And now, a little translation for non-speakers. It – roughly – means, “Severed/cut and left behind.” I really don’t know what was cut because well cutting isn’t exactly something we are famous for.

But how you read this road signage is a matter of semantics because if you change your intonation when you pronounce the “ochot” the meaning literally stands on it’s head.

So ochot, if you lean on the ‘cho’ turns the word to mean a hooker. Yes. So in essence the sentence would mean, ‘a hooker left behind’ which would not make this area a place you want to be born in.

My brother and I had theories about how it came to be named thus: My theory was this: So what happened in the 60’s was that some strapping young chaps left Kisumu driving a VW Beetle after a night on the tiles (of course back then they called it something cheesy like “boogie”) with a hooker seated backseat with her shiny purse and loud eye shadow. So as they passed this area she said she wanted to pee because she had had too much gin and Tree Top (remember that juice?). It was 3am. The driver, perhaps a chap called Tito, stamped on the breaks with his swanky Ksh 100 platforms (those were shoes) and pulled over. His homeboy, seated shotgun, chucked for her to step out because that’s how those cars operated back then; 3-doors.

See, his mate wasn’t keen on them picking up the hooker so he raised the argument again, said it still wasn’t a good idea. Said that he didn’t think his mate should drag a woman of rotten repute to his simba. It also didn’t help that the hooker for some reason took too long peeing. The gavel landed in her absence and these “gentlemen” drove off without her.

Next morning villagers woke up to a strange sight; a bleached out yellow yellow in pumps (shoes again) and red lips. She only got integrated because the only bus that plied that route back to Kisumu had broken down and she had to wait for a week for it. Besides she didn’t have any bus fare on her, so some fisherman bachelor guy took her in but after two days hopelessly fell in love with her red cheeks and gaudy long nails. He dutifully made her pregnant. They got many many kids together. The rest is history.

One of my brothers think that some randy old git dragged a hooker home at night but in the morning the hooker woke up, looked around the lavish boma and said, “Mimi siendi mahali!” and then refused to go back to Kisumu. Or wherever she was gotten from.

Way after the Christian Adventists came to my shags in 1906 the Muslim traders landed in Kendu circa 1935. They have never left. They married the locals and introduced Islam.

Meet Hakim. He says he’s 5years older than Moi. Hakim – who’s from Yemen – speaks my mother tongue better than I or anyone else I know.

Hakim is a legend in my village. Not because he has 20 wives and 40 children but because he was the sole diver that rescued the survivors – and fished out the dead – in the worst ship tragedy in Lake Victoria in 1965 where over 42 people died. The story of Hakim’s bravery has turned into folklore. I looked for him in Old Town Kendu where the Muslims live. I found him in his verandah, flanked by his wife and his son Abdul. He talked about that dark misty day, when the lake “rebelled” and how he had to dive to the bottom and disentangle bodies that had died clinging onto each other. How those bodies floated upwards to the surface in slow motion and how, at the shore, bodies were piled up to a “giant’s height” and people traveled far and wide to witness this sweeping death because back then, deaths were rare, especially en mass deaths. And he spoke of the nightmares he experienced after that episode.

The Don, chilling out with one of his wives.

He told me how Kenyatta offered to build him a storied building as appreciation and how he turned him down because he was serving Allah. He didn’t need a reward for doing Allah’s work. He told me how Kenyatta then sent the enigmatic Tom Mboya to pursue him and how he politely declined any form of reward.

“How was he in person?” I asked of Tom.

Kaka dhano,” he said, “just like a human being” and I found that response bottomless, you know how he managed to un-idolize the man in just two words.

I steered the conversation to the topic of his harem of wives.

“How do you manage 20 wives, Hakim?” His wife giggled.

“I don’t tell them my secrets, what I’m thinking,” he muttered.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because then they don’t anticipate my next move,” he said. “Women only give you young men stress because they have learned you. They know what you will do next. ” He said and I dragged my stool closer.

“So keep your thoughts to yourself, yes?”

“Yes.”

“What if they insist on knowing, what if they keep bugging you by whining ‘what are you thinking about baby? Share with me,’ should you tell them you are thinking about them in a green dress to distract them?”

His wife laughed out loud and I detected a tinge of scorn in her laughter.

“No, if she insists change the topic,” he said with finality, which also ended that discussion.

“Do you know all your children by name?”

“No.” he said and I laughed.

“Do you know all your wives by name?”

He stared out at the mosque and seemed to ignore that question. Hakim, do you want to phone a friend? Haha. This old man was cracking me up.

“How do you stay this youthful, Hakim? You look great!”

He offered me a wry smile. “I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t smoke, I sleep early and I pray to Allah for another day.”

“Who is your favorite wife?” then with my tongue in cheek, “Or do you love them all equally?” From the corner of my eye I saw the wife stiffen and concentrate more. Oh, women!

“Yes, I love them equally,” he said sarcastically, and then stared at me dead in the eye, as if to say, if you ask another dumb question like that, I will throw a shoe at you.

Abdul, one of Hakim’s sons. He rides a huge motorbike and speaks my tongue better than anyone I know his age.

Sweet tea was brought out in small cups. We sipped and chatted. I told him I came to bury my mom and he told me stuff that made me feel a whole lot better. With age comes such great wisdom because he told me things that seemed obvious but which he articulated with such depth.

At some point, one of his daughters – a disheveled but gorgeous 19yr old – comes to clear the cups away and he told me while nodding at the girl, “ You can have her if you want.”

“Gee, thanks Hakim, very kind of you,” I laughed. Please wrap her up for me, to go, I wanted to tell him sarcastically now that we are objectifying her daughter.

He’s a pimp, Hakim. But he’s a cool ageing pimp and what’s life without a cool ageing Pimp?

***

Sunrise by the shores of Kendu bay

Five minutes from our boma and you get to the shore of the lake. I went there every early morning until I came back. And there I would sit and wait for the sun. At 6am the lake is peaceful. It rouses up slowly, like a queen. And the lake is gorgeous at dawn; placid. At this time, a few eager beavers will already be out fishing. Perhaps looking for their breakfast; lean sinewy bare-chested chaps, with tattered shorts. These fellows are generally boisterous, but in the morning they silently steer their boats out as if afraid to wake up the lake. As if afraid to disturb nature.

At precisely 6.33am (I timed it four times) the sun rose, flooding the lake with orange. Where I come from nobody looks at sunrise with arty glasses because perhaps to them it means just another day to survive, another day to stay afloat. Sunrise means life. And it comes and goes.

As I sat there this chap you see in this picture came into the view of the sun and I snapped him. He then raised his hand and shouted a hallo, his voice somewhat disempowered by the lake. He then steered his boat to the shore and asked me if I wanted to see some hippos in some mangroves 5mins away. I almost told him, “If I want to see hippos I will go to KFC,” but I didn’t because I would have to explain what KFC was and I wasn’t in the mood to talk fries. We chatted for five minutes as he stood inside his canoe, which bobbed and heaved in the morning tide.

He didn’t ask for money for the picture I took without his permission because he’s from Kendu, he’s a proud man -we don’t beg. And when I gave him 100 bob (he received it with both open palms, something that touched and embarrassed me at the same time) he lit up like a chandelier and mentioned God and blessings. And off he rowed, into the flooding sunrise.

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  1. We don’t mention going to shags because its less than an hr drive for some of us. so its become to kawaida that we don’t mention it….Good to have u back Biko..

  2. omera kumbe you are jakarachuonyo? That’s great cos recently i was told that Kabondo is Karachuonyo so technically you are my Gweng mate. By the wat Ochot Odong name has a story of its own, not the whore definitely my granddad caught on something i believe is the truth cos after all we are Adwen and Adwens don’t lie right? i hope so

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    1. Omera gweng mate jakabondo….amosi Jaadwen….when will is the next Kiche……
      I remember when i was growing up i use to go to Hakim’s backyard to play and i never knew he was such a pimp……….lol…..you know back at home there is a ton of pimps arounds but they preffer to be called Jadoho.

  3. Always spreading the sunshine with your writing Biko.
    And now I feel like I’ve been to Kendu bay…keep writing for those who’ve never gone past Nakuru like yours truly. Sad as it is.

  4. I got a chance to explore Kisumu for 2 days last week and woot!! You guys have the coolest shagz ever. It’s like Mombasa, minus the disorganization, and humid heat.

    We were in Kisumu for work, and out of nowhere we found ourselves at Tilapia Beach eating humongous fish and ugali, smack in the middle of the day! Damn! I’m considering making Kisumu my shagz.

    Signed,

    One Who Comes From Somewhere Past Ruiru

    *ducks stones*

    1. And you still went ahead and called Kisumu, Bikos shagz just after he tells you he is from Kendu bay?!!!:-)

    2. I have always wondered why RookieKE has a narrow tribal mindset. Kumbe she had not travelled even to Kisumu.

      Her arguments and even the signing off on the comment shows he narrow tribal mindset.

      1. Absolutely. Such cheek! Thank God there’s only one Rookie Manager. Imagine a nation of people appreciating, complimenting and loving locales other than their own rural backyards. It would be anarchy. Absolute chaos. God forbid!

        1. Moe light touch my friend. Light touch.

          Tribal mindset? Kindly elaborate, and which tribe in particular. If travelling to all parts of Kenya is a sign of tribal balance, then our politicians must be the most balanced lot.

          Ndirash, I know! They should imprison the lot that go around loving other people’s backyards!!

          Biko, what’s with the math CAPTCHA? Most of us failed math you know?

          Signed,

          Amused to no end.

  5. Biko,
    I knew about Kendu Bay, from my primary school Geography paraphernalia. I have liked getting acquainted with Kendu Bay again.
    I hope you told your Kendu kinsmen & women that you need to get rid of your current crop of MPs in December!

  6. “If you ask another dumb question like that, I will throw a shoe at you” … haha I see what you did there.

  7. Kisumu is NOT a village? damn..OK Biko thanks for the enlightenment.with your words and expressions you make your shags so beautiful..organize a trip.

  8. “He lit up like a chandelier and mentioned God and blessings.”
    Priceless! Good to have you back Biko.

  9. It – roughly – means, “Severed/cut and left behind.” I really don’t know what was cut because well cutting isn’t exactly something we are famous for…lol lol…….
    If I want to see hippos I will go to KFC,” but I didn’t because I would have to explain what KFC was and I wasn’t in the mood to talk fries…KILLER!!!

    Great writing Biko..welcome back.

  10. Abdul *eye candy*

    Ok back to the story, I would love to spend a day with Hakim. I never used to hang out with “Old people” thought it was a waste of time…….now I know better.

    Awesome sunrise. Where I come from, there are many hills. As a child My father took us to the waterfall where he proposed to my Mum . It was around 6pm, you could see the river all the way to the horizon. The sun was orange and I remember thinking the river looks like a snake. The water made a thundering sound and there was a little rainbow over the falls. Can’t trace it now coz the river is now a stream. You should be glad you get you get to enjoy each sunrise Mr. B.

    Welcome back.

  11. About Kisumu, you do know they don’t have coffee shops though. Just restaurants that serve tea [and an international airport (“,)]…or maybe i just wasn’t able to find them, on several occasions…

    I love the place though to bits.

    As for Hakim (would really want to meet this chap)…“I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t smoke, I sleep early”…oh no, i am doomed from the get go…i see me being old and wrinkled!….also not being able to recollect amazing encounters with the greats like Tom Mboya as the crop of leaders we have now…very few fit the description “Kaka dhano,”…

    good to have you back Mr. B

  12. Nice lesson in history and geography.
    About shags Cliches I’m from Meru and hate it when people say bring me miraa yet my shags is nowhere near the miraa growing area. Asking for tea or potatoes would make more sense. It is very far beyond Ruiru

  13. Hey, Gwengmate, nice story from kasipul Kabondo, You proceed along that road and you get to a place called Asego- Homa Bay, now that’s where most Ochts usually dong!

  14. love how you qualify kisum siti as a city since it has mpesa shops! cracked me up good!

    welcome back!

  15. ‘ochot odong’ is always a controversial Stop,You have unravelled the beauty of Kendu Bay more than one would experience in person,other than the solar guess the Kendu-Homa Bay stretch of Lake Victoria is the future of L.Victoria’s version of ‘French Riviera’

  16. Biko, but you conveniently left the famous story of Kendu girls. That they love fun so much that even when married as far away as Mombasa they will come back home just to attend the Kendu Bay Show/ fair.
    Eng. Rege does involve himself in a lot ICT stuff in and out of parliament.
    Great read.

  17. This is an amazing piece Biko! For some reason I haven’t read your entries but it’s a masterpiece to me. The ease with which you hook us to your home is interesting. It just reminded me a conversation we had last night. Away from “home”, I had to correct a new friend I met, Obi, of the difference between “house” and ‘home”, living and staying.

    The most touching part for me is the story of your mother’s illness and the coincidence with my fathers illness and death. The memory of my dad at Mater… the breaching of taboos where my father’s nakedness ceased to Mater when I had to lift him from the bed. Your sister in Amsterdam reminds me of my journey from New York to Amsterdam where for the first and last time, I cried in the flight.

    I am a “reluctant ” fighter. I had promised to write about my father but when time came, I opted to mourn in silent. It’s been 14 months but you inspired me. I will write the story of my father. And yes, I only had a single hug when I came home 8 months earlier. Next time he was in ICU though he came out, I never lived to see him again.

    Thanks for this.

  18. there’s this song by jamnazi africa called “Kendu Bay” or sth like th@, am so in love with it despite the fact that i barely understand the lyrics; very nice sound there.
    It kept playing in my head as i read this…maybe it should be the national anthem 4 you kendu bay guys, no?
    n would someone feel sufficiently philanthropic to give me an English translation of that songs lyrics? Thanks

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    1. It is their anthem and the whole song actually praises Kendu Bay as their “home” not “house” (Read: Dala ok Ot)

      1. What Biko did not mention is that KB was corrupted to mean Koth Bothe. Lol! Am so soooo naughty.

  19. Hey Biko, my sincere condolences. Brilliant piece this. (those two words are actually quite cliche on this site). Brand Kenya need to pay you for the great ‘know Kenya’ pieces you (inadvertently) pen. Ive been too Kendu Bay, many moons ago. It is beautiful and peaceful. My dad took us there one day; drove from Kisii.nyanza is a beautiful, undiscovered region of this country. As the Ugandans say, Kulikayo Ssebo. Welcome back Sir.

  20. Biko, love your writing, I have used that Kendu bay route to Homabay (which is our town, it is not my shagz) for the longest time, I know treetop, so you get the time frame, we never had a private car, but not once did the driver stop to go have lunch, while we waited. To pee yes, but lunch?!

  21. ….. everybody who hasn’t been past Kikopey believes that Kisumu is every Luo’s shags. Now thats me!

    Kendu Bay – Beautiful area.

    PS: I have gone beyond Kikopey!

  22. Beautiful sunrise at Kendu Bay…As for the Kisumu/Luo assumptions, I think it’s a Kenyan thing. When I tell people I’m from Kikuyu, the first thing they will ask is Kiambu or Kabete. When I say no, they ask Nyeri or Murang’a…when I still say no, my being a true kikuyu is suddenly in doubt.

  23. Once did lwanda k’tieno-mbita-homa bay-Kendu route place is awesome esp Homa bay with the pine apples and yes diint dong an ochot and Lambwe Valley view soo fertile am waiting to see huge delivery truck written”BIKO FLOWERS” to the new airport

  24. I have been to Kendu Bay Biko! Was so happy to see your blog today even though I too was in the area for a funeral of a friend’s dad. The sunrises and sunsets were the best. The food was great and the boy didn’t the women dance all night. Its really nice to have you back.

  25. ……………………With age comes such great wisdom because he told me things that seemed obvious but which he articulated with such depth.

  26. Biko,
    Glad to have you back.Now can we go to Kendu bay i will open a computer shop and develop a mobile application to sell fish! You did say that people there Fish?That place looks great.That road to “Ochot Odong” its really smooth,good CDF use or lack of many cars?
    Am hoping to get up to kericho during the Madaraka holiday ave been born and incubated in Nairobi all my life.

  27. Biko, so sorry for your loss. I know you have heard that phrase severally, but it is the least we can do.
    That boat tragedy ensured that my maternal grandfather did not live to meet me. I have always wondered what his voice sounded like and what he would have said about Ochot Odong’.

    So those people that are “Jo-Kisumo” do not really come from Kisumu?

  28. What a masterpiece!Now am motivated to visit kisumu yawa!the sunrise pic,speechless!You the man biko!

  29. Thanks for the enlightening about not all jang’os coming from Kisum. And about Kenduans not begging, that’s a story for another day

  30. I wish that we could all write about our rural homes so well . You should also write about the impressions of rural people about the cities. Great piece , Biko! Again , I offer my condolences.

  31. Thats a nice story…. Hakim (that cat with 20 wives..WHY?) reminds me of some walalos at my shagz who speak kibukusu better than most bukusus i know.

  32. Eh Omera I’ve always had this hunch that you are from somewhere in south nyanza your adwen heritage sold you …am from there too, how’s the big 5 and did you visit the old show ground?….it used to be the thing some time back. Any way nice work coz I always go there and has never found a story worth telling

  33. I’m guilty of generalizing Luo land into Nyalgunga. Only with my Jang friends though and usually in jest. Whenever they go to shags I’ll ask ‘habari ya Nyalgunga?”

    Random: I love the name Kasipul Kabondo. It rolls so nicely on the tongue. I’ve gone as far as asking google “what does Kasipul Kabondo mean?” Google spewed electoral politics and CDF math.

    Good to have you back Biko.

  34. I LOVE the picture on sunrise by the shores of Kendu Bay. Good to have you back 🙂
    “Do you know all your children by name?”

    “No.” he said and I laughed.

    Haha I’d be on the floor laughing!

  35. Good to have you back Biko.

    Another unamusing question – how far is Kendu Bay from Nyang’oma Kogelo? Just asking! 😉

  36. Biko,

    It’s good as it is refreshing to have you back…thank you for sharing and for allowing us to tour Kendu Bay through the ink of your heart. Bless you, have yourself an inspired weekend …

    Cheers!

  37. Hey, Biko. I’d dropped out of school for a while – trying to acquire some bit of illiteracy, seeing that I carry my literacy around like weight etc etc. Its good to be back, an dits humbling to see that the world has carried on as it does even without me. Very touching. I’m certain you dont mind peeps claiming you are in Kisumu when you go ocha. Its a recent global diplomatic thought process. Kenya is referred to as Nairobi in diplomatic circles, for instance, so there’s logic.

    On the premise that you are not annoyed, just mildly irritated, may I say this piece about Kisumu is a great read? Particularly because it reveals you as a closet polygamist? You are green with envy about Hakim – we all are, just as we envy the medieval Lords but cannot fathom living in the era they lived, no?

    BTW Mse you inspire me to write and I often come here and skim your best work before I start writing. Someday I will email you something for you to read.

  38. Oh My God Biko,

    I read half of this article on the day of posting then my boss called me for a meeting and I left it half way….. I sat down to finish reading it today because I’m away from the office *not distracted*
    So I interacted with you reason for disappearance. Sorry for loosing your mum, I won’t lie that I know how it feels, but I sure do know that time and chance happened and there was a reason for it unknown to many. It shall be well!
    You had a beautiful view every morning no wonder your people chant “Kanyasoro Dala Wa” with conviction!

    Hakim will discover when he is on his death bed that he thought he was playing his women but all this time they were playing him! No wonder the wifey who was present LOL-ed at his response. All those moves he thinks are secret are not, they are just acceptable to his “team of twenty” if they were not acceptable then all of you who have women in your lives know, “WE READ MEN’S MINDS AND BLOW A FUSE SOON AFTER IF WE DON’T LIKE WHAT THEY ARE THINKING” Hakim tick tock!

  39. Now that’s my hometown!…and how do you talk of Kendu and forget to mention Big 5?…anyway this was such a nostalgic piece! And it’s true, we Kendu men are too proud to beg….
    If you are looking for Kenya’s version of the autobahn,…Katito-Kendu comes close

  40. Kudos Biko, great story well told. And nobody would tell that we used to be canned by the same commando ‘headmaster’. Kendu is the epitome of Nyanza pride. Ochot Odong’ is another story just like KANYADHING’. Mention Rachuonyo Show and complete the sentence with Big 5 (just a small shop+petrol station). Kanyasoro is a small collection of shops that lived welll ahead of its time. Girld from as far as Muhuru used to say they are from KB (Koth Bothe? knew that?). The flawless SDA/Islam mix is a study in harmony. Hakim (remember Bangladesh mini bus?) and Ahmed Hassan were the king pins then.

    PS: Shiko-Msa – Kasipul Kabondo is an amalgamation of two clans (Sipul and Bondo). In Luo you add Ka to prefis home off. History: Rachuonyo had two wives with one domisciled in Kadwet (present Karachuonyo) and the other in Kachien (Oyugis=hq of KK).

  41. thanks Biko atleast they nw knw..like the song goes..kendubay dalawa,kanyasoro dalawa..nostalgic,i wont interpret that cz its for kenduans

  42. i happen to know hakim very well and deep…he has passed away last year. ..may God rest his soul….what i find disturbing is your lack of regards to this great man…you have no idea when you even call him a pimp..the arab in him would slaughtered you alive were you to just come near his daughters…and all his daughters are married off in respectable circles after being not allowed even to step outside the homestead. another thing he had at most two wives at once but was divorced 5 times hence you really should have done your research.also his kids are all known to us and him….they 5 kids with first wife 7 with the wife he never separated with till his death and one kid each with the other women….but as a jounarlist i know you have to butter and jam your stories hoping that people who know the characters dont read the crap…

    1. seriously Ali stop being so emotional and extremist, Biko has spoken about enough stuff in the above narrative, so should people from Ochot Odong be pissed that he said their shugz is named after a hooker? Did you notice the guy is mourning the passing of his mother and that’s the reason he was in Kendu Bay?
      You should read more, it will not only open up your mind but also help with your English.

      Biko, as usual am carried away by your writing, am sorry for your loss and I apologize for my brother above.

  43. Hello I wonder if you can help, Hakim is my partners father. It is the first time she has seen a picture of him or knew anything about him. My partners mum Nassim was very young when married to Hakim in 1984 but she ran away whilst pregnant. My partner is hoping to contact some of her brothers or sisters who she has never met. I hope you can help by maybe if you know Hakims children passing on my email address so that they may contact me or passing their email address so I can contact them. Thanks for your time.

    Cheers

  44. Hello did anyone ever know of Hakims children I did post 28th august 2013 hakim was my partners father and she would really like to speak to any brothers and sisters,

    Any help much appreciated

    1. Hey Andrew… Seen both your comments and I do hope your partner finds his family… Try sending email to Biko to give you location or easier yet, let her go to Kendu bay. She’ll find her people. I hope you are successful in your quest

    2. Hey Andrew, I was born and raised in Kendu Bay old town and
      I know the family quite well. I am in contact with some
      of Abdul Hakim Odongo’s children. Have you got any leads in your
      quest to assist your partner trace them? If not, please get in
      touch through abushte[at]yahoo[dot]com

  45. ooooh kendu bay.. the shores of lake victoria are awesome to look at..but there were some guys who begged me ro give the something..

  46. Proud luo. Though am drom siaya and not kendu bay. I know the place n love it….Biko one day if i get wind u r at dala, i might just pay u a surprise visit. For the love of literature n our shared heritage. Hope i’ll be lucky enaf to get a hug

  47. What a piece! I am delighted.

    Ths is my home town, I grew up in old town n did my O’ levels at kendu muslim sec.

    I never knew Hakim is that friendly, hv bn made to blv he keeps ‘n’gielo’ n each time he approached me, i wld b on my heels – eventhough BURI, one of his sons happen to be my agemate n we got along together…

    Rewrite this peace, talk abt ‘kameli’ th bay, talk abt Ahmad Hassan, Talk abt Simbi Nyaima, n th lovely muslim wmn..

    Thnx

  48. Dear Biko as they call you I hope that is your name. I am writing from UK a Kenyan from Central Kenya. I love culture and my GOD has brought forth this beautiful lady from Kendu Bay who I wish to marry. I schooled in Agoro Sare High where I fell in love with Luo culture

    So was researching Luo Culture and Kendu Bay when I saw your article. Luo is rich in culture and one unique culture that has not been explored and which should be preserved is “Jonam ongio gi dug wadgi”

    Having lived in the Western World it is fascinating to learn more of this element of Luo Culture, which in western world is interpreted differently

    I would like to help me in researching and writing more “Jonam ongio gi dug wadgi”