The Victorian Experience

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There is something about Kisumu City. When you land at Kisumu International Airport (You have to say that in full if you are going to say it at all) and you walk out squinting into the bright sunlight, you have to take a moment and just stand there, luggage in hand and savor it. If you land when I love to land, early morning, the sky will definitely be an unrelenting azure. A breeze from the lake will be gently blowing through the (international) airport. The hills beyond will continue to roll out into the far distance, towards Obama’s shags. There is a “stillness” to Kisumu in the morning that I love. If you stand there for just a little longer, you will actually “feel” the city wake up. Slowly. Port Florence wakes up like future kings wake up, with a sense of entitlement.

Normally, Charles is waiting for me. Charlie is that guy you can always depend on. When you tell him, “Charles I land at 8am, please be there,” he will be there. Come rain or shine. What more do you need from a cab guy? Plus his cab won’t be smelling of fish. He’s young, 28, runs a modest fleet of taxis, after working in Grogon as a spanner boy for a few years.

I met Charlie a few years back when I picked him randomly from the sea of cabbies that normally wait outside the airport. I was connecting (yes, Kisumu International Airport is a hub) to Kakamega Forest where I was to do some painful environmental story. You know those stories where you have to interview people who love butterflies? Yes, those ones. Anyway, so there I was at the back of his cab on the phone with this photographer briefing him on what was expected so that he would come with the right equipment. When I hung up, Charlie asked me if I was a journalist. I said yes.

“I know Grace Makosewe,” he announced proudly.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, she’s a radio presenter.”

“Yes,”

“Yes, she is really nice, very beautiful bwana. Is she your friend?”

“We worked together a while back.”

He got really excited. “Really? Nice, do you speak?”

“Yes, although we haven’t spoken in ages. How did you meet?”

He said that Grace and her pals once used his cab from the airport and he just liked her immediately. Like he couldn’t stop staring at her through the rear-view mirror. Couldn’t keep his damned eyes on the road. He learnt that she was on radio and started listening to her show religiously. I was chuckling in the backseat.

“Can you call her?” he suddenly asked.

“Like now?”

“Yes, si you guys are friends, just remind her that I’m that guy who carried her to the hotel, she will know. Call her please and say hallo for me.”

“Uhm, it’s too early, bwana, she must be in bed.”

“It’s 8.45am, just try, please.”

I thought about how awkward it would be, calling up someone I hadn’t spoken to in ages, this early in the morning to tell them that some random cab guy said hallo. But he looked like it would have made his day so I called but – thankfully – she didn’t answer. You should have seen him look at me suspiciously in his rear view mirror, like I was lying about knowing her. Nkt.

Grace never called back.

Every time I would land in Kisumu, Charlie would be on my case asking about her and I developed the skill of lying like a madman: Have you seen Grace? (I ran into her last week); how is she doing? (She is great); did you tell her about me? (Yes, she remembers you.); Really? (Of course she does, she thinks you were very charming); Wewe wacha bwana! Waaah! Aki? (I wouldn’t lie to you bwana); Waah! I like that girl, she has a boyfriend? (No, the last guy fled to Uganda & never came back, maybe he joined Kony); Haha, Biko you like making things up bwana! (That’s what I heard, honest). When is she coming to Kisumu, do you know? (I will ask, but I think soon); Aki I can marry that woman! (Haha. You should!)

That conversation would go on every time he picked me up to the point I started feeling guilty for leading him on. So I called Grace one day and told her that there was a man called Charles who wanted to save her from spinsterhood and here is the number, call him, he will be deliriously happy. I don’t know if she ever called him but he still asks about her. I think that’s true love if you ask me. Grace, if you are reading this, this could be your chance; always marry a man who loves you more than you love them.

This Thursday morning, bang on time, Charles will be waiting for me at the international airport as usual. I will be en-route to Takawiri Island, which lies past Rusinga Island, where I will be going to hunker down and recover. See, two weeks ago I started making some really stupid mistakes in my copy. Not the usual annoying typos that I make on this blog that gets some grammar nazis all riled up, no. I’m talking bad shit, like getting an interviewees name wrong in print! Who does that? Those mistakes are always a sign of extreme fatigue. My editor called me up and said, “Biko, it’s never that serious, take a break. Go away, it will do you good.”

So I will go as far as I can from Nairobi, to Takawiri Island and swim naked. That normally helps. Water helps. And Takawiri Island has this white-palm-tree-d-sandy-beaches that you can’t believe exists in Nyanza. Virgin land. And it’s desolate. You can be alone at the beach the whole day. The water is warm and clear. Birds circle overhead. The lake is calm and sparkling blue. It’s as quiet as a Mummies tomb.

Liberation is when you step out of your boxers and get into the water with your skipper embarrassingly looking away, pretending to all of a sudden love the distant hills of Mfangano Island. Getting in that water naked really unlocks everything. Then when it gets really hot, you can stagger out, spread a shuka under a palm tree and take a nap with your legs open, snoring, as birds up in the tree chatter and laugh at your shrunken bits. No laptops. Minimal phone usage. It’s primal and it’s beautiful.

From this Thursday I will be trying out what I call my ‘Mini-Blog’ series on my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram. (You are following me right?) The mini-blog will be these small 150-word posts about this “Victorian Experience” – the sights, smells and sounds of Lolwe.

See you in Kisumu?

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73 Comments
  1. ‘You know those stories where you have to interview people who love butterflies? Yes, those ones” hahahaha…….. thats painfully funny!!

  2. Its not bad to invite guest writers Biko. If you are too busy-coz i see nowadays you take two weeks to post ( a sign of old age setting in)-you can sample our stories and see if they can be worth for your readers.

      1. Surely give him a drink it will loosen him up. You know there is one thing a man can never hide when he is a little tipsy i.e. when he is having ideas. So I can’t agree with Biko more than this.

      2. Makosewe. I expected you to say something. Biko…is that advise general? Great work and where is Joe Black’s article man?……

        1. Joe black wasn’t ranked by Kaimenyi right….. been waiting to hear how he fared man…..
          post the results here

    1. Forget what these guys are saying. “A man who reveals his character when intoxicated does not know the art of getting drunk.”
      – I have forgotten who said that

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  3. Care to meet up with a Biko enthusiast and share lakeside tales of kina ng’ane (Nyamgondho and Simbi Nyaima)?

  4. Looking forward to the posts on Takawiri..my pal and i were to go last year but did not manage..at least we went to rusinga island lodge…sigh!!!i thought the white sand was a lie..kumbe its true ?ill go in easter…..hmmmm

  5. Ayaye tera adhi ane Kisumo x2
    Kisumo ber Kisumo
    Tera adhi ane kusimo
    Nbuta mit Nyawita yawa
    Tera adhi ane Kisumu
    Ngege mit Manyata yawa
    Tera adhi ane Kisumo.

    Ndege aidho
    swuoyo e wi nam
    Tera adhi ane Kisumo

    For those of us from the lakeside city and who were born before Nyayo ended up in state house I know you are familiar with the song Suzanna Owiyo composed during the Kisumu centenary celebrations in 2001 that marked existence of Kusumu City for 100 years. I swear those of my friends that only know Kenya ends in Nakuru whenever they visit the town they would always come back with fond memories and a story to write home about. And by the way Biko am looking forward to those mini blog stoies.

  6. Fantasic read, I have also noticed not only the typos here but you have lost your edge abit. Your writing in the last three years was phenomenal. I hope your trip and rest will get it back. Keep going.

    1. True. When you are younger you give little effs, age calms you some. But I also suspect that my writing doesn’t necessarily change a hell lot, it’s you readers who get sophisticated so quickly for me to catch up!

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      1. Sophisticated? Maybe not, though I like the sound of that Biko. I have read you over the years and what I seem to realize is that you were writting more and it seem to be enjoyable without much pressure. Go back to what it was that took you to that place and you will deliver good if not great pieces.

  7. I love your blog Biko but I have never commented, now am forced to comment because you promised to post your son’s new story last week but wapi I been coming here every day to hear what he has to say; loved his last posts. Hope he is doing well at school.

  8. Hi Biko 🙂

    You mentioned our shags… super jazzed! Yes, I was in Takawiri this past December because we had gone to visit my grandmother in Mfangano Island.

    It truly is a beautiful island.

  9. biko the matchmaker love more than loved upward mobility from blogging?i am just concerned this idea of u putting your thoughts after a naked swim may wash away some of those juicy tastes that need licking the way a toto does with a lollipop.anyway i will take the plunge and stick with u however short u want to make them blogs

  10. Yes. I like the idea of guest writers. Give us a topic or two. Word limit. Decide on the first two paragraphs.

  11. There’s this girl sitting next to me in computer lab right now and l have to get her number. Am really behaving like Charlie, i can’t do my assignment and she gives that look, ‘ speak up guy’… i hope she gives me and l won’t be like charlie in future asking how she’s doing

  12. Chief, you know I never give bad advise, so I need you to hear me out on this one…don’t jump in with your birthday suit…that lake has been known to house piranhas. Those things bite my friend, especially things that dangle, on the flip side however, you’ll have an early closure to sin and no woman can ever claim to being your mpango.

  13. Biko, this was good,

    If Kisumu makes you write like this, don’t come back. I’ll find another jogger to run over.

  14. Good story indeed. I like the way you describe Charlie on stanby whenever you take your skipper there. The scenery you depict too is very alluring. Your conversation with Charlie as he slowly chaperones you reminds me of those movie actors with bags and big biceps ready to blow anybody who blocks his way.

    I must say i have watched a movie painted with words.

  15. “….as birds up in the tree chatter and laugh at your shrunken bits”hahaha I see what u did there

  16. Nice article..it’s long since I was in Kisumu! Ha, the imagery you’ve put your readers through with this post! hahaha..

  17. Biko you can fly direct to *cough, splutters* Kakamega airstrip (fly540)…I am just saying; then catch a boda via Shinyalu to the forest for more butterfly stories 🙂

  18. Biko, bet I’ve read all your posts unless my memory is failing me. Never commented. I’m reading and writing this comment in the deep dead of the night, 3 am to be precise, the only time for uninterrupted net access – seeing that I am not in Nairobi where it’s taken for granted or as an entitlement. Came here today, on this blog I mean, with a heavily expectant heart to read Joe Black’s post of how Biko’s big forehead enlarged and shone upon seeing his KCSE grades. I am disappointed. Biko, really? Besides, this post of yours, aii, doesn’t sufficiently compensate for the opportunity cost of my lost sleeping time. *back to my precious sleep*

      1. Biko I want to trust that you are handing this blog over to Joe Black during your vacation! Honestly we need to know you are rejuvenating and at the same time raising the next generation of writers!

  19. May you meet Buddha while you are there. By the way, whatever happened to the kid? The brilliant writer in the making? Joe right? And what did he attain?

  20. Joe Black. We want our son. Just tell us if he is being held hostage somewhere so that we send a rescue team!

  21. I totally understand charles,Makosewe voice is just the one.I wouldn’t mind listening to her the rest of my life #wink…Grace if you are reading this my no is 0722******

  22. I now have an image of Takawiri island that wont go away…..I agree its never that serious, take the deserved break!

  23. hahahaaa Biiiko,
    aren’t mummies tombs supposed to be scary…or that’s how i view such quiet beaches :/ Beware of sharks…nowadays they materialize even in pools, unless I’ve been watching the worst horror movies.
    Enjoy the get-away

  24. I have always enjoyed your travel posts since I enjoy travelling alot especially on my own. Nice read and looking forward to the “mini blogs”
    Outside travel my top reads that I can go back to and still enjoy are;
    1. Kendu Bay
    2. Today my mom will die
    3. Knickers
    4.How to be a social media mom
    5. Just wear clean underwear
    6. How to bury a Jango
    7. A letter to the kenyans abroad
    8. Get a girl a book
    9. A cut below

    Give us more like these and you will earn my loyalty for life.

  25. Nicely done….always thought I was the only one who felt the Kisumu-International-Airport- just-arrived-in-Kisumu vibe…..and i feel you about the bits in water bit…let’s just say I know a place in Uyoma, my mother’s place….

  26. Poor charlie! I bet grace won’t be interested in being saved from her spinsterhood as you called it very funny but always refreshing to read your blogs biko

  27. I keep reading and re-reading your posts.
    I love the language, the way characters are brought out and yes i finally followed Biko on IG whoop whoop *smiles*