It’s only on the third time along the same stretch of road that I finally spot our white building, but to my disappointment there are no longer any shops there. It seems the whole block has been turned into apartments, and the entire complex in turn has been surrounded by a security fence. I don’t know what I’d expected but I’m still disappointed that everything has altered so far beyond recognition.
We drive on to the Africa Sea Lodge, the hotel where I stayed the first time – still a tourist – I came to Mombasa. I suppose I was hoping I might find Priscilla on the beach. She was the one I lived with for a few months that first time in Mombasa, and she was a great help to me. A few tourists had told me she was still there, selling kangas. But with the rain beginning to fall again, my hopes were fading. When we get to the hotel I see that the side of the street opposite has completely changed. There are now several roads heading off into the bush and I can see a school in the distance. Almost certainly Kamau village where I spent my last six months in Kenya is not there anymore. That’s something we can’t check out so easily, however, as the rain has already turned the roads to mud. We walk into the hotel grounds. These at least have changed little, although there are a lot fewer tourists than there used to be.
We have coffee and then suddenly the sun breaks through again. I kick off my sandals and run along the beach in my bare feet. A few of the beach hawkers approach me; a few others simply stand there selling their masks and paintings. That is where I sat after my first ‘unsuccessful’ kiss with Lketinga, and again three years later when our young daughter was playing on the sand. This is also where we sat with Papa Saguna the first time he saw the sea and was almost sick with terror. I give free rein to all my memories, feelings and thoughts and let my feet bury themselves in the sand. Once again it comes home to me how strong my fascination with this country is, and in particular that part of it that is hardest to love – the Samburu lands. But at the same time I feel I have neither the ability nor the desire to live in Kenya anymore either in Samburu country or here on the coast.
There is nothing left for me in Mombasa now and I feel glad when we’re on our way to the airport. Once again I find myself on the Likoni ferry, and once again I realize my knees will always go weak here, whether or not there’s a Masai anywhere to be seen. Here feelings overwhelm me that I simply cannot explain, even today. Even so, I can honestly and sincerely say that of all the adventures, emotions and risks I went through here, I regret not one.
I am happy that I have such a wonderful African family and I regard it as a great gift to have been allowed to come back after fourteen years and be welcomed once again into their midst.
But now it’s time to go home, to my daughter. Right now, all I want to do is to throw my arms around her and tell her about her family in Africa, the family she still doesn’t know.
About the Author
Born in 1960 of a French mother and a German father in Frauenfeld in the Swiss canton of Thurgau, Corinne Hofmann had an international bestseller with The White Masai, an autobiographical account of her life in Kenya, which has since been translated into more than twenty languages and has spawned a film adaptation, seen by more than one million people when released in Germany in 2005. Her second book, Zurück aus Afrika (Back from Africa) described her attempt to start a new life back in Switzerland. An English translation will be published by Bliss Books in 2007. She has lived for several years with her daughter near Lake Lugano.
Copyright
First published in the United Kingdon in 2006
by Arcadia Books, 15-16 Nassau Street, London, W1W 7AB
This ebook edition first published in 2011
All rights reserved
Originally published in German by A1 Verlag, Munich as Wiedersehen in Barsaloi
Copyright © Corinne Hofmann 2005
English language translation copyright © Peter Millar 2006
The right of Corinne Hofmann to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–1–90812–920–8
Reunion in Barsaloi Page 18
