Old Africa issue #42 by Blake Arensen

CONTENTS LORD ERROLL KILLED BY MI6 OPERATIVES Lord Erroll’s murder is one of Kenya’s enduring mysteries. In our exclusive story, Palle Rune reveals what he heard from Ray Cuthbert, who worked in military intelligence in Kenya.

IN WESTERN KENYA AND LAIKIPIA – PART TWO

After many delays, Bryan Hook’s 1914 safari sets out from Nairobi and reaches present day Ruiru.

FLYING, FISH AND ROMANCE

A pilot in the Kenya Police Airwing tells of near misses, trout ﬁshing and courtship in the 1950s.

EAST AFRICA PLAYS BRITISH LIONS

East African rugby legend Irving McLean shares his memories of playing against the British Lions in the ﬁrst match ever played at the RFUEA ground.

PEMBROKE HOUSE CELEBRATES 85 YEARS

Harold Turner buys a house in Gilgil and starts Pembroke House prep school in 1927. This story gives a brief history of the school.

NUTTY MEMORIES

The British government creates a massive scheme to grow groundnuts in Tanganyika, but the ambitious project is doomed to fail.

AN ODE TO INDIAN CINEMA-GOERS IN NAIROBI

Neera Kapur-Dromson explores the drive-in cinema culture of Nairobi and interviews Dr Sharma for his memories.

RICHARD ONDENG STUDIES AT MASENO SCHOOL

Well-known educator and church leader, Richard Ondeng, remembers his early days as a student at Maseno School and his friendship with one of his teachers, Jaramogi Oginga Odinga.

DEPARTMENTS Editorial Sauti Zenu - Your Letters Only in Africa Historic Worship Sites

2 3 20 38

Golf-Then & Now History Mystery Contest Old Africa's Photo Album History Quiz Historic Photo Contest Mwishowe - Lives That Ended in Africa

40 42 44 46 47 48

OLD AFRICA

COVER PHOTO Josslyn Victor Hay, the 22nd Earl of Erroll. Photo credit: Mrs Michael Biggs/ Errol Trzebinski collection.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

EDITORIAL A New Design and an Old Mystery Old Africa magazine has a new look and eight more pages in every issue. It was hard for us to make the decision to change, as we’d gotten comfortable with our original design. But we wanted to mark the end of seven years of publishing with signs that we were still improving and expanding. We did receive a few letters from readers asking us to keep our old design. However, this letter from Ian McIver, a reader from Queensland, Australia, convinced us we were making the right decision. Ian wrote, “My latest issue of Old Africa magazine arrived two days ago. I really like the proposed new design for the magazine on the top right of the page. It conjures up images of the 1920s almost old Boys Own Paper style. It’s excellent. Showing the cover photo in proﬁle conjures up an interesting juxtaposition of the new with the old. Continuity and yet noticeable change - I commend the designer very much. And it’s so good to see a quality magazine that comes from Kenya.” We hope you’ll enjoy the new look as well as the stories and photos that we continue to bring you from East Africa’s past. Lord Erroll’s death in 1941 has become an enduring unsolved mystery with many theories of what happened that night in Karen. Recent revelations by Juanita Carberry and Dan Trench say the crime was committed by Sir ‘Jock’ Delves Broughton, while Paul Spicer’s new book, The Temptress, points at Alice de Jantze, a jilted lover. Old Africa reader Palle Rune sent us a story told to him by Ray Cuthbert that sheds new light on the case, which appears on page six of this issue. It matches surprisingly well with Errol Trzebinski’s ﬁndings in her book, The Life and Death of Lord Erroll. She was delighted to hear Cuthbert’s version and has kindly written an epilogue to Palle Rune’s story. Will it be the last word on Lord Erroll’s killing? Probably not, but it’s a story that convinced Old Africa and we’re happy to share it with you.

or t i d E , n e s n re A l e h S -

OLD AFRICA MAGAZINE

P.O. Box 65 Kijabe, Kenya 00220 Email: editorial@oldafricamagazine.com www.oldafricamagazine.com Editor: Shel Arensen 0736-896294 or 0717-636659 Design and Layout: Mike Adkins, Blake Arensen Printers: English Press, Enterprise Road, Nairobi, KENYA Distributors: PDS Old Africa magazine is published bimonthly. It publishes stories and photos from East Africa's past. Subscriptions: Subscriptions are available. In Kenya the cost is Ksh. 2200/- for a one-year subscription (six issues) mailed to your postal address. You can pay by cheque or postal money order made out in favour of: Kifaru Educational and Editorial. Send your subscription order and payment to: Old Africa, Box 65 Kijabe 00220 Kenya. For outside of Kenya subscriptions see our advert in this magazine. Advertising: To advertise in Old Africa, contact the editor at editorial@oldafricamagazine.com for a rate sheet or visit the website: www.oldafricamagazine.com. Contributions: Old Africa magazine welcomes articles on East Africa's past. See our writer's guidelines on the web at: www.oldafricamagazine.com or write to: Old Africa magazine, Box 65, Kijabe 00220 Email Address: editorial@oldafricamagazine.com. After reading our guidelines and editing your work, send it to us for review either by post or email. (To ensure return of your manuscript, send it with a self-addressed envelope and stamps to cover return postage) Copyright © 2012 by Kifaru Educational and Editorial All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

LETTERS Sauti Zenu ~ Your Voices Dear Editor, I write to thank Dick Nauta and Kimutai A Keitany for their corrections of my father’s annotations in his photo album, which appeared in Old Africa in issue 37. These annotations have always bothered me as the ‘Kavirondo’ always looked like a Nandi and the leopard skin-clad people did not look like Nandi and I’ve never seen sickle knives like they held. As my father died when I was young, I was never able to question him about his trip. I should imagine that photographs and ﬁlms were taken, put into tins and eventually processed at a photographic studio. Then my father had to sort them out and remember where and when they were taken. My thanks also go to H Wilkins for conﬁrming that ‘Mrs Pagoda’ was, in fact, Cheri Black. Keep up the good work. We really enjoy Old Africa and long may it continue. Andrew Challoner, Gilgil Dear Editor, Thank you for another very informative and interesting magazine. I enjoyed reading Neera Kapur Dromson’s memories of the Cameo Cinema. Every Saturday it was an outing, a treat and a much looked forward to event to be able to hop on the bus, go to the centre of the city and be at the cinema. We dressed up to go to the cinema. No DVDs then and no television. Yes, we

OLD AFRICA

lived through the movies, sang the songs, memorised the lyrics! If you knew the lyrics to the latest song, you were quite the popular person at a party. No alcohol was consumed at parties, and we sang after dinner. We copied the hairstyles and also the embroidery on the saris. When I was not allowed to go to the cinema, the cousins who had the good fortune would recount the story, verbatim almost and even sing the songs. I so enjoyed the photos of the McMillan home, the

sign. The new ones do not look so ‘historical.’ With regard to Juliet Barnes’ excellent article on the Nairobi South Cemetery I was looking through some old photos and found one of the War Cemetery next to the Nairobi South Cemetery. I don’t have a date when it was taken but it must have been a long time ago. We all so enjoy reading your excellent and interesting magazine. Long may you continue with the great stories from the past. Sue Deverell, Nairobi

clothes, the rambling roses, and the gabled Dutch style home. Those were the days! The Chiromo House still looks lovely and is well kept. We saw some lovely birds there only a few months ago. Thank you Judy Aldrick for the wellwritten and researched article. I shall renew my subscription. Shariffa Keshavjee, Nairobi

Dear Editor, I was very interested to read Juliet Barnes’ article, ‘Beneath the Turf,’ and Monty Brown’s letter reproduced on the facing page. Monty ﬁrst told me about this project some four years ago. It was only then that I was made aware of the 170 or so Goan graves. I put him in touch with some of my Goan friends in Nairobi. While interest among senior members of the community was encourag-

Dear Editor, I much prefer the old de-

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

ing, regrettably, the same could not be said of the younger generation. As a tribute to Monty’s dedication in restoring the cemetery, I feel it behoves us Goans to support this project and honour the memory of so many of our Goan pioneers. Mervyn Maciel, Sutton, Surrey Dear Editor, Your latest edition of Old Africa was excellent. Well done! I had seen some of the typed diaries of Bryan Hook before but not the fascinating photographs. Your front cover picture just goes to prove how few trees grew in Nairobi a century ago. I suspect the trees on the right were eucalyptus planted by John Ainsworth from seedlings that possibly came from Stuart Watt, the independent missionary in Machakos, who was also the first to import fruit trees from Australia. He had lived in Australia before his arrival here in 1893. As a footnote to Bryan Hook’s diary extracts, you mention that Geoffrey Northcote married Edith Adams. It is of interest, I think, to mention that Edith had a famous father - the Reverend James Adams who was the first clergyman and one of only five civilians ever to have been awarded the Victoria Cross, Britain’s highest decoration for gallantry. At the time of the Second Afghan War, he was serving as a Chaplain in the Bengal Ecclesiastical Department of the British Indian Army. Here is the citation published in the London Gazette of 26th August 1881: During the action at Killa Kazi, on the 11th 4

December 1879, some men of the 9th Lancers having fallen, with their horses, into a wide and deep ‘nullah’ or ditch, and the enemy being close upon them, the Reverend J W Adams rushed into the water (which filled the ditch), dragged the horses from off the men upon whom they were lying, and extricated them, he being at the time under a heavy fire, and up to his waist in water. At this time the Afghans were pressing on very rapidly, the leading men getting within a few yards of Mr Adams, who having let go his horse in order to render more effectual assistance, had eventually to escape on foot. Reverend James Adams was invested with his Victoria Cross by Queen Victoria at Windsor Castle on 1st December 1881. Nigel Pavitt, Nairobi Dear Editor, I am writing with reference to your story ‘Kenya’s Largest Elephant Tusks’ in Old Africa issue 41. I know the story well and was a game warden on the Galana fifty years ago when I knew and hunted with many of the famous Waliungulu elephant hunters. Elephants and ivory were my focus and I believe Bill Harvey’s huge tusks were almost definitely not the largest to come of out of Kenya, although his tusks were the largest recorded. Waliungulu elephant hunters took some immense ivory in the 1940s and 1950s. Unfortunately, the weights were never recorded. When doing aerial patrols we would spot some enormous tuskers – one in particular I recall in the swamps at the

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

mouth of the Tana River. With my experience in ivory from the Galana/Tana area, coupled with some years in the Southern Sudan/Zaire forested area doing professional hunting, I believe the photograph of the single tusk that Bev Forbes is pictured standing next to in the American Museum of Natural History is not one of Bill Harvey’s pair of tusks, and that the plaque photographed does not refer correctly to his tusk(s). The tusk Bev is standing next to looks to me like one from a typical forest elephant (cyclotis), being long and comparatively straight with much staining from forest weed on the external length of the tusk. This is not typical of the ivory from Kenya elephants (loxidonta africana). Bill Harvey’s tusks shown in the other picture were much thicker, more curved and not stained evenly along their external length.

OLD AFRICA

Perhaps the museum had the plaque in the wrong place and Bill Harvey’s tusks are on the opposite pillar? Tony Seth-Smith, Naivasha Editor’s Note: We contacted Bev Forbes about Tony SethSmith’s thoughts on the tusks in the museum. She believes the tusks are actually the correct ones, but the face-on angle of the photo we published didn’t show the curve of the tusk. Here’s a photo showing the museum’s tusks are actually curved. Dear Editor, I love your magazine, full of nostalgia. This is a very long shot, but does anyone remember the very ﬁrst Kenya women’s hockey team? I had been goalkeeper in Loreto’s 1st X1, and then played for Parklands for a short time before going to England. On my return a goalkeeper was needed for the Kenya Hockey team and to my surprise I was chosen. We only played two matches while I was there. One was against Tanganyika. The game was played at the Nairobi Club. Most of the play was at the other end of the pitch and so it was quite lonely down my end. Suddenly Tanganyika broke away and came thundering down the pitch, beating all defence until I was the only one left! Should I run out or stay put? I stayed put and a ball went into the net. How shameful! I was only saved by the fact that it had been shot from outside the circle. (It is so long ago I have forgotten the jargon!) What a relief! Sadly I cannot remember what happened

OLD AFRICA

in the other match. Are there any photographs that survive of those games? Is there still a Kenya Ladies’ hockey team? Rosemary Daniel (nee Wilkinson)

Dear Editor, THE MUTHAIGA CLUB CENTENARY SCRAPBOOK A HISTORY OF MUTHAIGA COUNTRY CLUB AND ITS MEMBERS 1913 -2013 As part of the Muthaiga Club Centenary celebrations in 2013 we are compiling a Centenary Scrapbook covering the last 100 years of life in Kenya as seen, experienced and recorded by MCC Members and their families. We are therefore calling upon all MCC Members, their families and friends of Muthaiga (past and present) to help by contributing content material. As well as amusing anecdotes/stories/letters/journal entries/drawings etc of events that happened at the Club, we are also looking for any records of events that took place in the last 100 years in Kenya that were experienced and recorded by Club Members - eg. the Wars (soldiers settlers, FANYs), the Emergency, coups, Independence, the white hunting years, safaris and tourism, ﬁlms made in Kenya, the growth of agriculture and industry, ranching, Royal visits, Safari Rally, horse racing, polo and ﬁshing - anything at all that made Kenya what it is today, and how Club Members were involved. Newspaper cuttings,

photos, journal entries etc all gratefully received. We will also include short biographies of any Members of particular note (for whatever reason!) If any of your readers have any material that they would allow us to publish, as part of the Centenary Scrapbook, please could they contact the editors on scrapbook@mcc. co.ke . The Scrapbook Committee envisages a wonderful collection of memorabilia collated into a social/historical publication, to be treasured as a record of Kenya and MCC’s extraordinary 100-year history. I am hoping your readers will support this project with their personal memories, funny stories and any imagery, to make the MCC Centenary Scrapbook one that all Members and friends of Muthaiga can treasure and one that future generations will enjoy. The MCC Centenary Scrapbook will be sold through the Club only and all proceeds will go to the Club. All contributors will be fully acknowledged in the ﬁnal publication. If anyone has material they would like to submit, please could they do so before the end of December 2012. Stewart Vetch Secretary Muthaiga Country Club

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

LORD ERROLL KILLED BY MI6 OPERATIVES by Palle J Rune

ho murdered Lord Erroll? Like many others in Kenya I have heard details of this famous unsolved murder over and over along with the permutations of possible scenarios. The late Ray Cuthbert, a major player in military intelligence during World War II in East Africa, told me his version of what really happened at Lord Erroll’s murder. Ray’s story convinced me. Sir Henry John ‘Jock’ Delves Broughton has often been regarded as the man who murdered Lord Erroll in January 1941. He certainly had motive as Lord Erroll was having a very public affair with Broughton’s young wife Diana. Broughton was tried for the murder, but was acquitted. However, many regarded Broughton’s suicide a year after the murder as admission of guilt. Various publications have recently ‘cleared up’ of the mystery of the murder of Lord Erroll in January 1941. Apparently Juanita Carberry and Dan Trench maintain that Diana’s husband, Delves Broughton, had told Juanita that he was the murderer. Broughton had become friendly with the young Juanita following the murder. Since Broughton had been cuckolded by Erroll in full sight of the whole colony, he may have felt a need to redeem himself, at least in Juanita’s eyes. Broughton felt Juanita would not reveal what he told her and indeed she did not tell her story until many years later when Broughton was long dead. It must have been very galling for Broughton, a proud man, to have been so publicly humiliated by his much younger wife Diana and the notoriously amoral Erroll. My late fatherin-law V E ‘Kirky’ Kirkland related to me how he had arranged a shooting safari in Kedong Ranch with the Broughtons and Lord Erroll. Kirky said Diana had been so provocatively dressed during their forays into Hell’s Gate for lion that he didn’t know where to look. Diana had unbuttoned her blouse revealing she wore nothing underneath and had on only the very briefest of shorts. The safari lasted a week and in the evening the four of them would sit around a campﬁre

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

Josslyn Victor Hay, the 22nd Earl of Erroll. Photo credit: Mrs Michael Biggs/ Errol Trzebinski Collection.

drinking until Diana and Erroll would feign tiredness and leave the others to retire to bed. Kirky told me they were so blatant in their love making that he had to keep Broughton’s glass filled and his back to the tents as they did not even bother to turn the Tilley lamp off before starting to make love. When I asked Kirky if Broughton could have killed Erroll, he always said it would have taken a much younger and fitter person to get from Broughton’s house to the crossroads in Karen where the car with Erroll’s body was found. Having hunted extensively with Broughton, Kirky knew it could not have been him. He was simply not fit enough to get there in time to do the deed. In 1974 I became a radio amateur and I formed a friendship with Ray Cuthbert. He introduced me into the world of amateur radio and I was his protégé before I eventually became chairman of the Radio Society of Kenya. It was an unlikely friendship for we were dissimilar in so many ways. When I met him he had already become blind and was called ‘the white stick man.’ He was an extraordinary human being and had friends in very corner of the globe

OLD AFRICA

through his radio amateur work, including King Hussein of Jordan. Ray had his office at the top of International Life House and was a former Chief Secretary to the Colonial Administration of Kenya. In his time, and before disease caused him to lose his sight, he had been a much-feared controller of the public purse at the treasury, sniffing out tax evaders and public officials suspected of having their hands dirty. A measure of Ray’s veracity is the story Ray told me, later confirmed to me by the man’s family, of how, on the death of a certain well-known Nairobi lawyer, whom Ray had suspected of fraud and who he also suspected of having faked his own death, Ray turned up on the day of the funeral with an escort of senior policemen and demanded of the bereaved family that the coffin be opened and he be permitted to ascertain that the man really was in the coffin and dead. During the Second World War, Ray Cuthbert, with the military rank of Brigadier, served in military intelligence in Kenya and in his old age he regaled me with stories of derring-do and, sometimes, his own part in them. It seems skullduggery was the order of the day in military intelligence. I had told him about Kirky’s hunting experiences with the Broughtons and Erroll and asked Ray what he thought had happened the night of Erroll’s murder. On this question Ray was uncharacteristically reticent and mumbled that the whole Broughton trial had been a charade and that, though he knew what had happened, he could not speak about it. Over the years I kept prying and even stooped to getting him seriously inebriated to try to get him to speak, but all to no avail. Eventually, due to ill health, he and his wife Eileen left Kenya for the UK and I lost physical contact with them, though he and I occasionally chatted on the amateur radio network. In the 1990s I got a letter from Eileen that Ray was getting weak and wanted to see me so we made arrangements to visit them in their UK home in Salisbury. We spent some time together reminiscing. Finally he said, apropos of nothing, “So many years have now passed that I am relieved of my oath under the official secrets act and I want to tell you what happened at Karen the night of Lord Erroll’s murder and why.” Here’s what Ray Cuthbert told me. Lord Erroll was Paymaster General in the British forces in Kenya, in which capacity he had knowledge of planned troop movements for the impending campaign into Italian-held Somalia. Erroll was

OLD AFRICA

also a close personal friend of Oswald Mosley, the leader of the British Union of Fascists and a Nazi sympathizer who was suspected by British military intelligence of being in contact with Hitler. A decision was taken that Erroll was a danger to the war effort and arrangements were made to have him assassinated. Two special operatives, a woman and a man, were ﬂown in to Kenya on military transport without making any ofﬁcial record of their travel. They were briefed by MI6 in Nairobi and provided with a car and a radio. An intelligence operative kept watch on the Broughton house in Karen. Late in the evening, after Erroll dropped off Diana following a party at the Muthaiga Club, he drove away alone in his car. This was reported to the assassins who then made ready the scenario at some point quite near the Broughton house. The woman appeared on the roadside in the headlights of Erroll’s car with a story of a tiff with

Josslyn Hay wearing beach pyjamas with Lady Idina Gordon at Venice Lido in Italy just before they married. Tom Mosley was among the house party on this holiday. Photo credit: Tatler, no. 1139, 12 September 1923

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

THE LAST WORD by Errol Trzebinski

Lord Erroll (third from the left) at Oserian on Lake Naivasha in the 1930s. Left to right: Hon. Michael Kinross, unidentiﬁed, Lord Erroll, Dr Elwood Davis, Cockie Birkbeck and Mary Countess of Erroll. Dr Davis treated Mary at Oserian when she was very ill. Lord Erroll had married the divorced Mary Ramsay-Hill in 1930 after his divorce from Idina. Photo credit: Sir Dermott de Trafford and Art Davis, Errol Trzebinski collection.

her boyfriend and needing a lift. Erroll obliged and let her into his car. Ray didn’t know the exact details of what happened in the car, but the woman killed Erroll as the car approached the crossroads where the other operative was waiting in another car and the two drove away. Both operatives ﬂew out the same night in military transport, leaving no trace of evidence that either had been in Kenya. Lord Erroll’s body was found slumped in the front of the car the next morning, 24 January 1941. Broughton was arrested and arraigned for trial and was represented by the best lawyer in the colony who got him off precisely because it seemed physically impossible for Broughton to have done the deed. If Broughton had been found guilty, Ray said there was a plan B, but he could not remember what it was. My conversation with Ray Cuthbert settled the matter in my mind. Lord Erroll was not killed by her jealous husband but by Britain’s own military intelligence operatives to ensure a successful invasion of Italian-held territory in the horn of Africa. I was friends with Ray Cuthbert for many years and the fact that he refused to tell me the real story until near his death convinced me that he spoke the truth.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

On Saturday 24 January 1941 Captain, the 22nd Earl of Erroll, Josslyn Victor Hay, Assistant Military Secretary, Lord High Constable of Scotland, was to review the King’s African Regiment Territorial Army on Eldoret Racecourse. Their Commander in Chief, Colonel ‘Sweetie’ Barkas, undercover military contact for SOE, ordered his waiting troops to return to barracks at 2 pm. The Earl’s car had been involved in an accident. He would not be coming after all. My biography, The Life and Death of Lord Erroll, published in hardback in 2000, revealed that in Scotland on the turn of October to November 1940, approval was given for ‘Operation Highland Clearance’ code name for the judicial assassination of the 22nd Earl of Erroll. The elderly tend to want to set records straight. My paperback published in 2001 contains the feedback from cogs in a much larger wheel - readers in their Eighties who had participated. Brigadier Cuthbert is another who grew intolerant of the tissue of lies, upheld by the film White Mischief. They had all sworn the official secrets act, in time of War. To get matters off his chest, the latter waited until he was dying to unburden himself to Palle Rune - their hobby in common was Ham radio. Cuthbert, a man of formidable bearing in uniform, played a not insignificant role in Operation Highland Clearance. Those in the know, have always known, that the ‘crime of passion’ link to Erroll’s death, was risible. As many as fifteen persons working in triangular ‘cells’ undertook orders – piecemeal that November with no understanding as to why the allotted tasks were given. Contact between London, Cairo, Pretoria, and Nairobi were made strictly on a ‘need to know’ basis, ensuring absolute security. Furthermore, the highly sensitive undercover exercise included Broughton’s trial - a farce from start to finish. Misinformation is still playing a critical part in maintaining the ruse and the character assassination of a brilliant man, albeit a latter day Casanova, whose death had nothing to do with a crime of passion. Richard Cavendish, Commissioner of the Kenya Police, with connections to MI6, took overall responsibility for activities within the force though his name has never been mentioned. Inspector Arthur J Poppy (answerable to Cavendish) and in charge of investigating Erroll’s murder, chose two of his

OLD AFRICA

askaris riding bicycles as ‘milk boys’ to report their discovery of the body in the Buick. Nothing had been left to chance. Sir Jock Delves Broughton, 11th Baronet of Doddington, being unfit for active service, before sailing from England had dropped into the War office, asking how he could help. Broughton and his mistress, Diana Caldwell, married in Durban on 5 November. The newlyweds reached Muthaiga Club on 12 November 1940. Immediately Broughton contacted Joss ostensibly to rent ‘Oserian,’ Joss’s home on Lake Naivasha, but was turned down. Instead Broughton rented the house in Karen. Colonel Barkas’s wife, Phyllis, stayed at Muthaiga, keeping her husband informed while he was at Eldoret. She played frequent games of chess, cards or croquet with the cuckolded Broughton. Unperturbed and attracting deliberate attention to himself, Broughton was the pawn. As vain as he was expendable, Broughton successfully planted red herrings; the largest is still alive and cannot be named. Countdown for the hit during Friday 23 January 1941, involved radio communication between code-named operatives conveying precisely who was where, when and with whom. Muthaiga Club and Clairmont House were teeming with MI6 personnel. Claimont House was a tiny hotel, run like a private house, among the Kiambu coffee estates five and a half miles from Muthaiga Club, along a murram track. Joss and Diana, like so many officers and their girlfriends in the F.A.N.Y.S., had gone there regularly, dancing to record music on the Clairmont gramophone, after dining at the Club. That evening at Muthaiga, Broughton’s infamous, ostentatious, ‘To Joss and Diana’ toast in champagne during dinner was deliberately loud. Bystanders missed nothing. Afterwards Joss took Diana dancing at Clairmont House complying with Broughton’s wishes to get Diana back to Karen before 3 am. The couple made time en route to stop at Joss’s bungalow opposite Muthaiga Club to make love. An old Etonian in Intelligence who for weeks had been in the Adjutant’s office - ops nerve centre - was staying that night with Joss. Needing to make sure all was going to plan, he wandered over the road establishing Diana and Joss were still in bed. Before long, Joss took Diana back Broughton’s house, kissed her goodnight in the hallway, driving off alone. At the end of the driveway Broughton’s ersatz Somali chauffeur had flagged Joss down in the Buick requesting a lift into Nairobi on the pretext of having been given the day off. Joss agreed. The Somali took his place in the passenger seat beside him. This man, a crack shot, had been

OLD AFRICA

posing as Broughton’s driver for roughly six weeks. In fact he had been handpicked, his presence vital, lest the female operative failed in some way. There could be no mistake. The Somali was her back up. When the female operative woman appeared on the roadside in the headlights of Erroll’s car with a story of a tiff with her boyfriend and needing a lift, Erroll obliged and let her into his car. This was the cue for the Somali ‘chauffeur’ to get out of the passenger seat and move to the back. Joss had been too much of a loose cannon and a powerful one at that. Sir Oswald Mosley aka ‘Tom’ and Joss had known one another for years, holidaying in Venice before attending Joss’s first wedding breakfast in 1923. In the early1930s, Tom, having founded the British Union of Fascists, persuaded Joss of the benefits of forming a Blackshirt movement in Nairobi. The idea was pursued by Joss, using Club venues upcountry. His last known meeting was at Ruiru Club in 1939. England was at War with Germany and Italy. The 22nd Earl of Erroll’s lofty position, his camaraderie with Mosley and the Duke of Windsor (a quisling in waiting?) were considered a threat to the war effort. Tanganyika, which had been German East Africa in the First World War, and Mussolini’s presence in Abyssinia, were factors behind the decision to assassinate Erroll. Joss was paymaster to British Troops, in charge of manpower in Kenya and had been expected to lead the country once the war was over, whichever side won. Apparently the risk was too great. The subject may be threadbare but now warrants a fresh look at the past. Was Cyril Connolly deployed to write about the Erroll murder? James Fox, the 24-year-old reporter newly returned from Nairobi, collaborated with Connolly to investigate the cause célèbre. The Colour Supplement of the Sunday Times in December 1969 published ‘Christmas in Karen’ under their names. On Connolly’s death in 1974, every jotting on the mystery was bequeathed to Fox. Taking up the baton, Fox himself wrote in his introduction to White Mischief how he played Watson to Connolly’s Holmes. Today Fox’s remarkably compelling bestseller is still breathing myth into life. Naturally there is no inkling of Operation Highland Clearance except for the real characters involved. The rest - as they say - is history. My sincere thanks to Palle Rune for coming forward with Ray Cuthbert’s misgivings; their points confirm how Joss’s life ended as related in my biography, The Life and Death of Lord Erroll. Published by Fourth Estate, London 2001. ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

IN WESTERN KENYA AND LAIKIPIA - PART TWO by Bryan Hook, 1914

Bryan Hook, ‘Mt Kenya,’ c. 1914, watercolour. (From the collection of Juliet McMaster.)

A sequel to Eight Weeks in Equatorial Africa Being an account of a second visit to Africa and of a safari with my two sons from Nairobi through Western Kenya to Rumuruti, Thomson’s Falls, and Lake Ol Bolossat. Monday, 2nd Feb. We now have our safari assembled. There is Maganga the headman, a tall Wanyamwezi (a tribe of German East Africa), who wears a wideawake hat adorned with ostrich feathers and carries a gourd water bottle slung over his shoulders. Karanja the driver, a useless individual (whom we soon dismissed), Asani the house-boy; the cook and pony-boy, whose names I forget (they were always known as Syce and Mpishi). There are a couple of old boys engaged to carry water and help generally, and ﬁnally a taxidermist known as the Fundi who professes to be able to prepare the trophies from a Sunbird to a Rhinoceros. (We subsequently put his talents to the proof upon both these extremes.) He professes also to know the whole of the country through which we intend to pass, as he served in a similar capacity the ex-President Roosevelt. Our luggage is packed, we have hired many things for the outﬁtting of the safari but have 10

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

bought the tent which is large enough for us all three at a cost of 300 rupees. The oxen have cost 690 rupees, the cart 275, the pony 500, saddlery 99. (Value of rupee ¼.). There are 12 or 14 loads of bedding and stores besides our baggage. Altogether a good cart-full for our six little oxen. We landed ten days ago and are not off yet!! Later. We are not off yet indeed. The delays are heartbreaking. We sent out our driver headman and syce to fetch the oxen from a farm a few miles away. They all came back, having been unable to ﬁnd the place. Again they were sent with another man to show the way and have not returned; meanwhile the oxen arrived having been sent in by their former owner. We took them to the wheelwright’s and they drew the new cart hither. So here stands the cart in the hotel grounds ready to be loaded for the start tomorrow and the oxen are being herded for the night in Newland Tarlton’s paddock. Tuesday. Excursions and alarms! The boys who had been set to watch the cattle came to our room at seven this morning to report the disappearance of the whole herd! They had been given a hurricane lamp and told to keep one of their number on guard, but the watcher took a nap and the oxen took a stroll and can

OLD AFRICA

nowhere be found. So here we are stranded with nothing to do but worry the police and send boys out in search of the runaways, and stay by the telephone bell. Wednesday. There is a report that our oxen are at a neighbouring police station so Raymond and Valentine have gone off to investigate. Yesterday I hired a car and ran out to Kiambu to fetch the pony taking with me my new saddle and bridle. It is a beautiful drive through varied country mostly forest. The animal life is a constant source of interest. At one place a crowd of baboons were holding a committee meeting in the roadway, and hardly troubled to clear out of our way. They are great impudent rascals, that can be very dangerous if thoroughly roused. There were also a large ﬂock of Hornbills. Quaint fellows weighed down by their enormous beaks, and making a great fuss about things. I dined and stayed the night and this morning left at 6.30 and rode out to Nairobi. The oxen have been recovered and are grazing hard by. Geoffry has dropped in to lunch at the hotel and to help us pack up our cart and shove off. Ye Old Cable Hotel, Rueru. Noon, Feb 5th. There is now no doubt about our being on safari. Raymond and Valentine are sweating with the oxen six miles back, while

their unnatural parent has been translated into this restful haven and regaled upon whiskey and soda with scones and cheese. An hour ago whilst we were resting by the wayside with our team out-spanned, Rutherford drove up in his Ford. There was not room in his car for me and the two dogs so he brought us here where we intend stopping the night. The Hotel is quite new and fairly comfortable, and makes a good halfway house between the Blue Posts and Nairobi. There is a station here on the Thika Railway and a train will be passing soon for Nairobi so I shall ask the guard to take my mails. Our departure from Nairobi was successfully accomplished yesterday afternoon. After lunching with us Geoffry helped us to pack the cart and inspan the oxen, and having seen the team well started down Nairobi main street he and I mounted our ponies and cantered across the golf links to await the cavalcade at the bridge where the road branches off to Kiambu. Here we came up with the cook, house-boy, skinner, and syce. Raymond is the only member of our party really capable of handling our team. With a twenty foot ox-whip he presides over the outﬁt while Valentine with a similar weapon and a face begrimed with sweat and dust makes an able lieutenant. In the course of half an hour the team came up. Geoffry took the road for Kiambu, and our now complete safari set out upon its hundred

The caption in Bryan Hook’s diary reads: “We are off at last.” It shows the front view of the oxen, the cart, the Africans, Raymond and Valentine.

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

“A bad piece of road,” wrote Bryan Hook in his diary describing this photo, which shows watery ruts in foreground, six oxen and the cart, with Valentine and Maganga in his hat adorned with an ostrich plume.

and thirty ﬁve mile march. At this point Valentine remembered that the dogs had been left behind. So my charger was requisitioned and Valentine went back to Nairobi while I pushed on on foot to warn Seth Smith of the honour that was in store for him, as we intended to make his house the ﬁrst stage upon our journey. Seth Smith was away in Nairobi, but his whiskey and soda was not locked up, thoughtful man, and his boys did the honours of the establishment admirably. They prepared an

excellent dinner and placed the bungalow entirely at our service, so that when the safari marched in, our hand luggage only had to be unpacked. Valentine soon returned with the dogs. The poor beasts shut into their kennels had seen us depart and raised no whimper to remind us, in the bustle of departure, of their existence. We passed a most comfortable night in Seth Smith’s bungalow and before leaving wrote him our thanks for the hospitality of which we had taken such very French leave. I should

“I generally jogged on ahead on my ﬁery Somali.” Bryan Hook on his white pony, ox-cart following.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

have mentioned that the numberless delays to starting had rendered it impossible to give him proper notice of the date of our arrival. Valentine had his ﬁrst sight of [Mt.] Kenya at about eight this morning, but it was very faint and soon melted away into the haze. The views across the plains are perfectly lovely, and Kongoni and Thompson’s Gazelle can often be seen four or ﬁve hundred yards away. Rutherford whirled me away from the safari at eleven; it is now past one and luncheon is prepared so I will stroll out and see if the safari is coming. I have been out to where a mile off the road can be seen, but there is no sign of the safari, so the dogs and I came in again and lunched comfortably except for uneasy thoughts of the boys sweltering in this tremendous heat. But a big storm is brewing which may be a blessing in disguise; it is cooler already. 3.30. The safari has just come in in good order after heavy work. The boys had to borrow four oxen from a passing wagon to surmount

the last hill. We have hastily prepared for a deluge which is not so bad as we expected and having safely housed everything the boys are lunching comfortably. So ends the second stage of the great safari. To be continued… Juliet McMaster, Bryan Hook’s granddaughter, who now lives in Canada, provided Old Africa with this 1914 diary written by Bryan Hook. She has a typewritten version of the diary with original black and white photos alongside the text. We plan to run the unedited diary over the next ﬁve or six issues together with some of the photos and some paintings by Bryan Hook, inspired by various views on the safari.

KENYA VALUERS & ESTATE AGENTS LTD CHARTERED SURVEYORS

(Established in 1978) “Particular properties for particular people” Property Valuation: Residential, Industrial, Commercial, Agricultural

Contact David Harber at our Museum Hill Centre Office Sales & Lettings: For Nairobi & the Northern suburbs contact Jane Alala at our Village Market Office For Karen, Langata, Upcountry & the Coast contact David Harber Museum Hill Centre Office: Tel: 3745512/697 0735 333015/0722 206517

OLD AFRICA

kv@kenyavaluers.com

Village Market Office: Tel: 7122001 0733 333937/0722 266536

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

FLYING, FISH AND ROMANCE by Rex Taylor

1953

I broke cloud at 12,000 feet and my mouth went dry! Straight ahead loomed the twin peaks of Mount Kenya and the rising moon lit up the forest slopes less than 100 feet below my aircraft! I had recently completed a two-year training course with the Southern Rhodesian Air Force and as a rookie pilot I was qualified to fly single-engined aircraft, by night and by day in almost any weather. My basic training had been on the De Havilland ‘Tiger Moth,’ - a fabric-covered aircraft powered by an inverted six-cylinder ‘Gypsy Major’ driving a fixed-pitch wooden propeller. Rubber bands absorbed landing shocks and the only braking was a castiron tailskid dragging on the grass! Landing on a tarmac surface was interesting! We did our advanced flying on the North American ‘Harvard.’ We flew the glorious Spitfire Mark XXII, for our operational phase. Along with the practical flying we received a disciplined education in all things aeronautical, under the eagle eyes of zero-tolerance instructors! Even though we were fully aware of the fatal errors of flying mistakes, we were all cocky and overconfident enough to commit some new ones! Having earned our ‘Wings,’ we were let loose into the

Victor Papa Kilo Lima Foxtrot ﬁtted with bomb racks.

world of aviation. Two compatriots and I joined the Kenya Police Reserve Air Wing in 1953, almost as soon as our discharge papers were signed. The Mau Mau uprising had reached alarming proportions and the value of aircraft was being proved daily. Within a week of arriving in Nairobi we were licensed and taught to fly the ‘Piper Tri-Pacer 135’ powered by a puny six-cylinder Lycoming 135. Lycoming’s poor cylinders could only raise about 100 struggling horses between them at the usual altitude of flying Kenya, but the light weight, stubby wings and large control surfaces made the little Tri-Pacer a delight to fly and the sturdy tricycle undercarriage made landing ‘a piece of cake!’ I doubt if any aircraft could have been more suitable to the multi-roles of the Police Air Wing. ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

Flying at high altitudes and in the weather conditions of Mount Kenya and the Aberdares was a never-ending contest of man against the elements, and although many pilots survived, the elements were often the winners! The Air Wing (‘A’ Flight) was based at Mweiga, a farm airstrip that was high on the Aberdares and as a result was often in cloud, which curtailed ﬂying. In 1955 a newly constructed airstrip and base was established at Nyeri, which had a much better weather factor. Once I was detailed to carry out a night ‘air contact’ in the area of Isiolo, North of Mount Kenya. I climbed out through a layer of cloud from Nyeri, steering a course that would take me clear of Mount Kenya, and at about 10,000 feet at my calculated safe

OLD AFRICA

Mount Kenya poking up through the clouds. A chilling view.

turning point, I steered east on the course, which would bring me over Isiolo. At my predicted ETA (Estimated Time of Arrival) I saw no lights below, but away to my starboard I saw a cluster of lights, which I took to be Isiolo. I assumed a strong wind had put me north of Isiolo, so I descended on a southerly course to lights below. I circled the lights but couldn’t raise any ground call sign. Cloud was closing in rapidly, so, believing I was over Isiolo, I climbed out on the westerly heading that would have taken me clear of Mount Kenya. The layer of cloud was surprisingly thick, and although I had no radio contact with the Air Wing Base, I was conﬁdent the sky was clear over the Nyeri airstrip and a descent would not be a problem. Suddenly I broke through the clouds at 12,000 feet and to my horror I saw the twin

OLD AFRICA

peaks of Mount Kenya in front of me, lit by the rising moon! I was barely 100 feet above the rising forest slopes. I was truly scared - I still am - for had I been only a little lower or the cloud a little higher, I would have ploughed into the rocky side of the mountain! Probably still trembling, I turned to clear the high ground and took time to admire the beau-

ty of the mountain peaks in the moonlight. The lights of Nanyuki gave me a safe descent and I landed in bright moonlight at Nyeri! Phew! A humbled ‘Eagle Blue’ had been very, very lucky! I was immediately aware of what had happened. When I believed I was at Isiolo, it was probably hidden in the blind spot immediately below the

Sketch of planned sortie from Nyeri to Isiolo.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

A brace of rainbow trout for Mrs Thompson.

cockpit floor, and the lights I had seen were from Meru, a town some 50 kilometres further south, on the eastern slopes of Mt Kenya! When I climbed out on a westerly course, thinking I was above Isiolo and well clear of the mountain, I was actually climbing out from Meru on a course that could have been an unsolved mystery! Nobody on the ground at Meru had heard my aircraft, and any search team would find it inconceivable that a pilot would be 50 kilometres off track on a flight of a little over 100 kilometres! A search for a wrecked aircraft would never have centred on Mount Kenya’s eastern forests and I doubt they’d have ever found me. Saint Peter, at the Ivory Gates, did not have a 23-yearold entrant that night! Looking back, and with some confessions to my Guardian Angel, she reminded me that I had not kept a written navigational log, instead relying on mental navigation for such a short and simple route. Most of the flight was at or above 10,000 feet, which is high enough for anoxia, oxygen16

starvation, which could have led to my overconfidence and sloppy navigation. If my near extinction was a major fork in the road of my flying memories in Kenya, the other sorties were much happier! Trout were abundant in the rivers of Mount Kenya and the Aberdares, and most Air Wing fishing trips returned with knapsacks full of lovely platesized trout. Sometime in 1955 I was captivated by a girl with sparkling eyes, a wild sense of humour and a keen interest in the wild. Her mother, though, did not share Evelyn Aspinall’s fascination with this irrespon-

sible pilot who raced a Morgan sports car! She did, however, have a liking for fresh trout, no longer seen in Timau! Following a successful angling sortie, I chilled a brace of rainbow trout and packed them in a shoebox filled with crumpled newspaper. I flew a morning sortie past Timau, circled ‘Ardencaple’ until Mrs Thompson strode out to the thick Kikuyugrass lawn and possibly shook a fist at me! I lined up the TriPacer, wedged the shoebox in the passenger door and made a standard supply-drop approach to the patch of lawn in front of the farmhouse. Making slight adjustments to my flight, I reached my release point and a push on the door released the packed trout. The package fell as aimed, bounced twice on the grass and ended up at Mrs Thompson’s feet. She lifted the box and, possibly mouthing a silent curse at me, took the box inside to unwrap four fresh trout. My shares rose from that day on and on the basis of four fresh rainbow trout I was permitted to pay my advances to ‘The Missy Evelyn!’

The trout delivery point on the front lawn of Ardencaple in Timau.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

My advances to Evelyn were reciprocated and the romance led to some matrimonial intentions. In those days, the calflength stockings we wore were of finest wool, but nevertheless developed holes at the heel. I took pride at darning my socks, but Evelyn did not believe darning socks was a manly chore for what she saw as her knight in a shiny Morgan, and she insisted I drop them off for her to mend! Reluctantly, and probably to get Evelyn off my back, I tied a brace of holed stockings together and planned to drop a big ball of worn hosiery on the Ardencaple lawn. By now the Tri-Pacer knew the route to Timau and Evelyn waved sweetly from the lawn. I aimed my drop and wedged the socks in the door. At the release point I pushed the door and the ball of socks fell clear. I opened the throttle and pulled up over the trees. The Tri-Pacer, though, did not respond to my flight intentions. Instead it vibrated all over and the rudder pedals shook! I realised the worn socks I’d dropped had somehow gotten wrapped around the tailplane, creating enough drag to overcome the Lycoming’s lack of power at the extreme high altitude of Timau and limiting the full movement of the elevator and rudder. In a careful descent at full power I was able to land at ‘Craig’s’ farm strip, unconcerned and still smiling! There I found the woollen training task of my possible Bride-to-Be firmly wrapped around the elevator strut, woefully shredded and beyond economical repair! I continued to darn my own

OLD AFRICA

Evelyn and I were married 30 June 1956 at St George’s Church in Nanyuki.

stockings, but always left one or two for Evelyn to repair so as to keep her romantic intentions correctly orientated! My strategy must have worked for it wasn’t long after that Evelyn popped the question and we were duly wed in the church at Nanyuki. The Mau Mau emergency was coming to an end and the routine ﬂying tasks of the Police Air Wing failed to give the adrenaline rushes needed by a married bachelor knight! Sadly, my service in The Air Wing ended in 1957, and with wonderful memories of Kenya, on the ground as well as in the air, I took up a ﬂying

commission in The Royal Rhodesian Air Force. Evelyn, my Kenya souvenir, added to the excitement by producing two wonderful daughters, who in turn added a brace more happy memories!

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

NEW FROM OLD AFRICA BOOKS! AVAILABLE NOW FROM OLD AFRICA FOR KSH 1000/- INCLUDING POSTAGE WITHIN KENYA. CHEQUES PAYABLE TO KIFARU EDUCATIONAL & EDITORIAL, BOX 65, KIJABE, KENYA 00220 OR SEND PAYMENT VIA MPESA TO 0717-636659. ALSO AVAILABLE FROM AUGUST IN TEXT BOOK CENTRE OR BOOKSTOP IN YAYA CENTRE. A LAUNCH EVENT IS BEING PLANNED FOR THE AFTERNOON OF 2 SEPTEMBER IN THE NAIROBI AREA AND FOR THE EVENING OF 4 SEPTEMBER AT FORT JESUS IN MOMBASA. WATCH YOUR EMAIL IF YOU’RE A SUBSCRIBER OR CHECK OUT OUR WEBSITE OLDAFRICAMAGAZINE.COM OR OUR FACEBOOK PAGE FOR DETAILS.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

SUBSCRIBE TO OLD AFRICA! Subscription Type: Kenya TZ/Uganda Rest of Africa Europe/Middle East USA/AUS/Far East

If Paying In Kenya Shillings Ksh. 2200/Ksh. 3000/Ksh. 3500/Ksh. 3900/Ksh. 4200/-

If Paying in USD (on the website) $30 $45 $50 $55 $60

Back Issues! Has someone “borrowed” some of your back issues? Or do you know someone who would enjoy reading back issues of Old Africa? We now have 7 packages of back issues. To Kenyan address

Overseas address

First Year Issues 1-2, 6 Ksh. 500/Second Year Issues 7-10, 12 Ksh. 1000/Third Year Issues 13-18 Ksh. 1000/Fourth Year Issues 19-24 Ksh. 1000/Fifth Year Issues 25-30 Ksh. 1000/Sixth Year Issues 31-36 Ksh. 1000/Seventh Year Issues 37-42 Ksh. 1000/-

Ksh. 1300/Ksh. 1800/Ksh. 1800/Ksh. 1800/Ksh. 1800/Ksh. 1800/Ksh. 1800/-

Please make cheques or money orders out to Kifaru Educational & Editorial. Mpesa payments can also be made to: 0717-636659. Please make sure to follow up with a text or email stating what the payment is for and shipping address if applicable If you are overseas you can pay with a credit card at www.oldafricamagazine.com/subscribe

OLD AFRICA BOOKS Tribal Origins by Peter Parr

A boyhood memoir with unique stories of growing up in Sudan, Egypt and Ethiopia from 1955-1964. Chasing the Rain by Jon Arensen and Richard Lyth The true story of an African man from Sudan in the 1930s and 1940s. Rich with description of African traditions and culture, this book paints a picture of Africa you'll never forget. Available from Bookstop in Yaya Centre and from Text Book Centre outlets and other leading bookshops in Nairobi. Visit www.oldafricamagazine. com and browse our bookstore to see other titles.

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

ONLY IN AFRICA...

Higgs and the Geita Night-Rider In late 1951 James, born of Cornish parents, was taken at six months old to live on the remote Geita gold mine in Tanganyika. With both parents working, he was cared for by an African ayah. Through her, and several African children, not least Lutoli, he became fluent in Swahili before he ever spoke English. To his African friends James, who they loved as one of their own, was known as Jimu. In Geita there was a motley collection of people from different countries and backgrounds. It made for many amusing anecdotes. The excerpt below describes an incident in which ‘Higginson,’ ex British-Indian army colonel, now Geita askari-chief, has a most unusual night-time encounter. 1958 An event happens in Geita, so curious that its fame in local folklore is guaranteed. The drunken outcasts, Higgs and Heathfield, lurch out from the club into the parking area. They’re even drunker than usual. Higgs finds his 20

motorbike and pulls it off its stand. He straddles it and kickstarts the engine. Heathfield has disappeared, and Higgs calls for him impatiently, the bike’s gear engaged and clutch held in. He feels a weight alight, Heathfield’s warm body against his back, moist breath on the nape of his neck. He does get too clutchy, and more than a bit pathetic, after ten quarts of Whitecap. Higgs is used to it. He burps, lets out the clutch with his left hand, and rolls up the revs with his right. The big Harley Davidson roars, and the twosome ride unsteadily away, up the gravelled road in the direction of their homes. Now Heathfield really starts to exceed himself. At first Higgs feels his passenger’s arms move up from around the hips, to grasp his shoulders. “What the hell are you playing at?” he shouts above the roar of the engine. No answer. Now Heathfield’s nails dig deeply into Higgs’s shoulders. The pain is excruciating. “Stop it, you damnable fool!” Higgs yells, but the nails dig deeper, and begin to scratch painfully down his back. The agony is so extreme

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

that Higgs, rounding a corner, loses control, and the bike plummets off the road into dense undergrowth. Higgs hears his bike hitting something. He finds himself on a bed of soft branches, and suddenly feels very inebriated. To hell with it, he thinks, and falls asleep. His last thoughts are, “Where the hell is Heathfield?” and “I’m not taking him home again.” At seven in the morning Higgs awakes to searing tropical sunshine, the buzzing of myriad insects, and a skimpy memory of the previous night. When he tries to rise, he finds his back and shoulders are in agony. Gingerly he feels the scratches on his back, to discover half-inch deep lacerations running from shoulder-tip to waistline. He limps to where his bike lies on its side by the trunk of a Mbuia tree, and is astonished to see the near side of the petrol tank has four deep dents. He pulls the bike up, and finds the same on the other side. One of the dents has a hole in it. Protruding from the hole is a very large, bloodstained claw-nail. Higgs’s clingy

OLD AFRICA

passenger of last night was not Heathfield. Heathfield had never made it to the motorbike. On staggering into the fresh air from the club, Heathfield had felt awfully tired, seen an inviting flowerbed and collapsed into it. Higgs’s passenger was a full-grown leopard. The news spreads like bush-fire. Some Wazungus say he’s making this up. Whites who marry blacks are probably liars, and worse. But how can they explain his lacerations and the holes in the petrol tank? The claw? Why does Heathfield admit sleeping in a flower bed? Higgs brought him to the club, and the bike was undamaged then. Did Higgs sneak out between drinks, disable and puncture his own bike’s tank, insert a leopard claw into the hole, severely lacerate himself, then sidle back in and act normally? Wouldn’t someone have noticed the blood? And how did he get rid of Heathfield on the road? Unless he and Heathfield are in this together. But why? Why would these men, no matter their individual faults, play a prank like this? It doesn’t make sense. Three days after the incident, while Higgs is still receiving daily injections and dressings for his wounds, a leopard is shot just two miles from the club by Marcello Barelli, Antonio’s father and our great white hunter. His rear right foot is missing a claw, and the toe-pad is torn and septic. When his back feet are placed against the fuel tank, the claw positions match the punctures. The incident is closed. The leopard weighs two hundred pounds, and is fully nine foot from nose to tail. He will be remembered

OLD AFRICA

for years as the Geita ‘NightRider,’ who hitched a lift with the constabulary. When Higgs recovers his limited dignity, he’s often heard to brag, after several Whitecaps, “I gave that sod a lift for half a bloody mile!” The legend of Higgs and the Night-Rider takes ﬂight, and soon is heard as far aﬁeld as Dar es Salaam, Iringa and Morogoro. This is an excerpt from Speak Swahili Dammit by James Penhaligon, published in May 2011 by United Writers Publications Ltd, Penzance, Cornwall, UK. The book is available from amazon.co.uk and amazon.com

Rolling Stone While stationed in Nairobi in the late 1950s, my wife and I and our young son Charles spent our holidays at Amboseli. There were seasons when the National Park was closed because of temporary flooding of the drifts in the low-lying country. Often the roads were impassable to non4WD vehicles and we did not have 4WD so we usually avoided the area in the wet season. However, on one occasion when we were in the park, an unexpected storm and consequent flash floods entailed seeking help. The park warden, ‘Tabs’ Taberer, suggested he escort us from Ol Tukai Lodge to ‘Budge’ Gethin’s Hotel at Namanga. Setting out early, we splashed our way to a drift just a couple of miles short of Namanga, only to find that it was in spectacular spate. Nothing daunted, Tabs had his rangers make a fire and soon had the kettle boiling while we settled down in our camp chairs to wait.

Eventually, Tabs called over a ranger and told him to place a stone at the water’s edge so he could judge whether the spate was receding. We settled down to more mugs of tea and much chatter. One of the rangers had become a particular raﬁki of our son, so it was not long before Charles was shrieking with delight as the ranger raced him around in his push-chair, often down to the water’s edge. After a couple of hours and with more storm clouds gathering, Tabs went to inspect the water’s edge, where the stone still marked the water line. As we watched him standing there, he called over the ranger and had a heated discussion. Coming back to us, Tabs told us to pack up our car and follow him across the drift, which had receded enough for us to cross. Apparently, the ranger had assumed the stone was to be kept at the water’s edge so, as the water had gone down, he had moved the stone accordingly! Brian Boulton, Australia

DO YOU HAVE A SHORT, FUNNY OR QUIRKY STORY ABOUT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED IN AFRICA?

Send your contributions marked Only in Africa to editorial@oldafricamagazine. com, or by post to Old Africa, Box 65, Kijabe - 00220 Kenya. Please limit stories for Only in Africa to 350 words or less. Include your name and address in case your story is published. We pay Ksh. 1000/-

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

EAST AFRICA PLAYS BRITISH LIONS by Shel Arensen

1955

Eddie Evans from Londiani Rugby Football Club played flank forward for East Africa against the British Lions at the new Ngong Road Ground. Eddie always bordered on being offside. One time he was very offside and tackled Cliff Morgan, the Welsh flyhalf for the British Lions. Morgan hit the hard ground with a thud and Eddie cowered back from having committed such a violent act on such an exalted creature. Cliff stood up. “Who did that?” he demanded. “Evans,” Eddie answered. Cliff assumed that with a name like Evans, Eddie must come from Cardiff in Wales, so he forgave him. He didn’t know Eddie actually came from Cumbria. Irving McLean, who played lock forward and acted as vice-captain in that game, chuckles as he remembers Evans’ tackle. McLean, at 86 years of age, is one of the few men left who played in that game, which officially opened the new Rugby Football Union of East Africa (RFUEA) ground. The East African rugby community had decided they should have their own ground and headquarters. In 1951 the Kenya government granted the union a ten-acre plot next to Ngong Road. Clubs and individuals donated money and held fundraisers. This money in addition to a loan from the Rugby Football Union (RFU) in England was used to construct the pitch and the stands. John Webster donated his time

East Africa before their 1955 encounter against the British Lions at the new RFUEA ground.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

Jack Siggins, manager of the British Lions, speaks at the ofﬁcial opening of the RFUEA ground in 1955. Governor Evelyn Baring is in the pinstripe suit behind the speaker. Mr Goldstein, president of Kenya Harlequins and the RFUEA is next to the governor in the black suit and on the far left is Izzy Somen, Mayor of Nairobi.

on a bulldozer to level the ground. Grass was planted in time for the long rains in 1954. They erected 60-foot goal posts. John Tanner of Kenya Harlequins designed the stadium and the pavilion. Everything was ready and it was decided to ofﬁcially open the ground with a game against the British Lions on 28 September 1955. The Lions were returning to Britain by ship from a tour of South Africa and Rhodesia. Players were selected to represent East Africa. Eleven came from Kenya, one from Kampala, one from Dar es Salaam, one from Arusha, while the ﬂyhalf came from Tanga. The players met a week before the game. They camped at Norman Larby’s place and trained at the Nairobi Club. “East Africa was always at a disadvantage when playing superb teams like the Lions or the British Barbarians,” says McLean. “They had just completed a tour of South Africa and were a well-knit unit. We had some talent, but we were just a collection of individuals who had not played together before.” The referee for the match was Andrew Clark and the touch judges were WO Williams from Wales and Ken Fyfe, a local schoolmaster.

OLD AFRICA

Here’s the East Africa line-up for the Lions match. V Fieros (Arusha), D Darroch (Nondescripts), D Brodziak (Nakuru), GP Meintjies (Eldoret), EA Bairstow (Nondescripts), RH Chambers (Tanga), C Kimmins (1st Battalion Gloucestershire Regiment), WW Ingram (Londiani), J Humphries (Nondescripts), RJ Kavanagh (Dar es Salaam), E Evans (Londiani), AI McLean (Nondescripts), DS Reynolds (Kampala), AM Tippe (The Rifle Brigade), and PJ Wheeler (Londiani). Wheeler was the captain and McLean was the vice-captain. “We were the underdogs,” McLean remembers, “but it was a great honour to have been selected to play against those greats and we gave our all.” The Lions game opened the Ngong Road Ground before a capacity crowd of 6,000. The atmosphere in the changing room and in the stands was electric. Governor Evelyn Baring was among the dignitaries at the official opening ceremony before the match and Jack Siggins, the manager of the Lions, had the honour of opening the ground. The game was one-sided. McLean, who came to Kenya in 1953 from South Africa where he had played for Natal, was six-feet-fourinches tall and East Africa’s lineout expert. He had to leap against Rhys Williams from Wales in the lineout. They each won about half of the lineouts and the East African forwards held their own in the scrums. But the Lions’ backs used a ‘new tactic’ called the scissors pass. It flummoxed the East African team. Tony Coxall, a 13-year-old pupil from Arusha School, attended the match with 20 other boys, making the 270-kilometre journey to Nairobi in a 1.5-ton lorry. Tony later reported that the seats

Irving McLean talks about the 1955 match against the British Lions.

OLD AFRICA

The crowd stayed around to drink and socialize in the new bar.

cost one shilling each and the Lions scored two tries before East Africa answered with a penalty. The halftime score was 16-9. The floodgates opened in the second half and by the end of the game the British Lions had run in 11 tries and converted three. Arthur Smith, the right wing, scored five tries! East Africa replied with three penalties and a drop goal by RH Chambers, the flyhalf from Tanga. The final score was 39-12. (In those days tries, penalties and drop goals all counted three points and conversions scored two points.) After the match the crowd stayed to drink and socialise in the new bar well into the night and the Lions team and reserves mingled freely. McLean felt he was unlucky not to have played against the legendary Lions winger Tony O’Reilly from Ireland. O’Reilly had scored the winning try against South Africa, but injured his arm when a Springbok lock landed on O’Reilly has he scored the try. He arrived in Kenya with his arm in a sling. O’Reilly was a handsome man and the girls and ladies crowded around him asking about his arm. “We were unlucky yet again, when after the match, the girls barricaded the boys from reaching O’Reilly, as they drooled over him,” remembers McLean, laughing. McLean had the privilege of playing against O’Reilly three years later in 1958 when East Africa played the British Barbarians at the RFUEA ground. “I always regarded captaining East Africa against the Barbarians as the pinnacle of my career,” says McLean. But maybe playing against O’Reilly wasn’t so lucky after all. In the East Africa v Barbarians match O’Reilly scored seven tries and the BarBars won 52-12! But McLean was very proud of the 12 points his team scored, including a try by RN Angus of Kenya Harlequins, the first try scored by East Africa on their Ngong Road ground. ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

PEMBROKE HOUSE CELEBRATES 85 YEARS by Shel Arensen

hen Harold Turner slammed a tennis ball into Jesse Cramb’s eye at Kenton College on the saddle below Kijabe Hill, he didn’t know that would lead to the start of Pembroke House preparatory school in Gilgil. Turner, a Cambridge blue in tennis and winner of the Kenya doubles championship several times in the 1920s, had failed at farming and joined Jesse Cramb to start Kenton College in 1925. Cramb and Turner had never gotten along well and after the tennis ball incident, which blinded Cramb’s eye and left him wearing an eyepatch the rest of his life, Turner left Kenton to start his own school in Gilgil. He brought in

Gerald Pink as a junior partner and they purchased land and a large house from Captain Alan Gibson. Turner named the school Pembroke House after his college at Cambridge. When the school officially opened on 15 September 1927, John Trent was the first pupil registered. The school was for boys only with the motto Anglus in Africa Sto (I stand as an Englishman in Africa). Turner and Pink were the first teachers along with Miss Boyd and Mrs Stott, who was the school matron. John Coplestone joined as a teacher in 1928 and by the end of that year the school had 37 students. By 1933 the school

had grown to 67 pupils and fees were £37 a term. The Prince of Wales came to play golf at the Gilgil Club on 9 October 1928. The Pembroke House magazine for the Michaelmas term in 1928 reported on the visit: “We cheered him as he returned to the Club House, his round having been interrupted by rain. Mr Turner was presented to the Prince, who spoke for a few moments about the School.” That evening after a meeting at the Gilgil Club, the Prince stopped his car on the road and climbed through the fence into Pembroke House unannounced. He entered the dining room where Miss Hill

Prefects’ Lawn being planted in front of the house Harold Turner bought from Alan Gibson in Gilgil to start Pembroke House.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

was reading to the smaller boys in front of the fire. He listened for several moments before being seen. Mr Pink was in his bath when he heard the Prince had arrived. Pink hurriedly pulled on his clothes before drying himself properly and ran out wearing carpet slippers instead of shoes. Pink met the Prince, standing rigidly at attention, before showing him around the school. The Prince talked to several boys. He took an interest in a stamp collection that one boy was looking at. The Prince asked if it was his collection. “No sir,” the boy replied. “They belong to Bursell.” The Prince replied that Bursell must be a rash fellow. He himself would never have lent his collection to anybody when he was at school! Over the years Pembroke House has offered its students a range of sports in addition to their classroom education, with cricket, football, boxing, athletics, shooting, tennis, badminton, golf, rugby, archery and horse riding. Pembroke played its first sports match against Nakuru School in 1929. At first no games were played against Kenton. In 1933 Turner overcame Cramb’s hostility and arranged a cricket match against Kenton at Kijabe. The feelings between the two headmasters were reflected in a taunting rhyme composed by the Pembroke students: “Kenton College have no knowledge, All they eat is bread and porridge.” In 1932 a devastating swarm of locusts landed around Pembroke. The cloud of insects darkened the sky. Stephen Hemsted, a master at the time, wrote, “Trains would be brought to a standstill on the incline up to the Gilgil Station

OLD AFRICA

due to their slippery billions on the railway line.” In 1947 Turner sold the school to Christopher Hazard and retired. Hazard was headmaster of Pembroke from 1947 to 1965. During Hazard’s time he decided the school needed a chapel and made it a project for the schoolboys, starting the ground clearing in 1952. To see how large to make the building, Hazard had the boys sit on the ground in rows and marked off the area for the chapel. The boys built the chapel over the next eight years, including a stained glass window from broken Phillips Milk of Magnesia bottles. The Christina Chapel was consecrated in 1961. The school developed a communications system using carrier pigeons during Hazard’s tenure. They built a pigeon loft and purchased a ﬂock of pigeons. A basket of several pigeons and a pigeon handler went with the teams playing away matches. At half time the score was written on a scrap of paper, placed in a small container, strapped

Harold Turner founded Pembroke House in 1927.

on a pigeon’s leg and the bird was released to ﬂy back to Pembroke. The pigeon handlers at the school awaited the pigeon’s arrival and passed on the news of how the game was progressing. At the end of the game the ﬁnal score was attached to another pigeon. Long before the team returned home, the school already knew the score. In 1949 Hazard obtained a 1913 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost from Mr Stevens of Nakuru,

The rail line from Gilgil to Thomson’s Falls passed through the school grounds and a bridge was built so students could reach the playing ﬁelds. This photo shows students on the bridge in the late 1920s. Though the rail line is no longer used, students are still required to use the bridge when crossing over.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

appointed David Opie to be the next headmaster. He was a sportsman educator who had been captain of Nondescripts Rugby Club in 1964. He led the school from 1970 to 1984 during a difﬁcult transitional time as the school came to terms with being a British prep school in post-colonial Kenya. He changed the school motto to Fortuna Favet Fortibus (Fortune Favours the Brave) to reﬂect Kenya’s new status. The school had a 1913 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, which served as the school bus in the 1950s.

who found himself in debt to Hazard. The Rolls Royce had earlier been ﬁtted with a station wagon back and truck wheels and used to transport the Prince of Wales on safari. Hazard used the Ghost as the school bus for Pembroke House. “The Rolls trundled off to away matches with a cage of carrier pigeons to relay the score back to school,” remembers Pembroke old boy Nigel Hall. “Starting was a gamble, with no starter motor and just a handle to turn over its 7 litres, and some hills had to be attacked in reverse because it was the lowest gear. Matches against Kenton College in Nairobi meant a long haul up the escarpment out of the valley causing the 40-year-old engine to overheat. Solution? Cut four holes in each side of the bonnet to increase airﬂow!”

sacked for ungentlemanly conduct half way through his ﬁrst term. Mackie stepped in again until the second term of 1966 when the Council hired Hugh Cowie. Cowie stayed for about three years before he also had to leave suddenly. Mackie took over temporarily, but again declined the position of Headmaster. In

1970

After Hazard had a heart attack, he retired suddenly in 1965. Leo Mackie, the school’s second master, ﬁlled in but turned down the offer from the school’s Council to be the substantive Headmaster. The Council hired Frank Little to be Headmaster, but he was 26

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

the

Council

Opie loved ﬁshing and on 4 March 1984 he headed for the Malewa River with his rod and creel saying he’d be back by noon. When he was late, his wife Brenda and a friend went to the river and found his car and ﬁshing bag, but no sign of Opie. They raised an alarm and Richard Foster, who was at the Gilgil Club that day, responded. He and others dove into the cold water searching for Opie, but it was not until the next morning that his body was recovered by properly

The school kept carrier pigeons to report scores from away games. Andrew Butter and Jonathan Howden were pigeon handlers in the 1960s.

OLD AFRICA

equipped scuba divers. It was surmised that he had tripped on the concrete stairs above Daphne’s pool and fallen onto the rocks below and into the river. Stunned from the fall, he had drowned. Richard Foster, who had been teaching at St Andrew’s, was called on to be the next Headmaster. There was great debate at this time over whether girls should be allowed to attend Pembroke. Foster approved the move and persuaded the Council to open the school to girls, one of the landmarks of Foster’s time as Headmaster. Foster spent ten years from 1984 to 1994 at Pembroke before moving on to be Headmaster at St Anselm’s prep school in Britain. Bill Buck was chosen to be Headmaster in 1994, the ﬁrst Head to be recruited with no Kenya experience. Buck focused on recruiting good teachers and improving the results in the Common Entrance Exam. Buck left Pembroke in 1997 followed by Alan Bateman (1997-2003) and (2004-2005), Peter Whitton (2003-2004) and Sam Cook (2005-2009). Debbie Boyd-Moss became the ﬁrst Headmistress in 2009 and she continues to lead Pembroke House into the future. After 85 years Pembroke

Pembroke’s First XI cricket team in 1949.

Pembroke’s rugby team toured South Africa in 1992. This photo shows Warren Wilson (centre) and Alfred Kamya (right) after a game in Cape Town.

House, a school started for British boys in Africa, now caters to boys and girls from various racial backgrounds while still

providing an excellent prep school education.

!"#$%&'()*+,-"&+.."/("0$.$&'+/$"/1$"" 23/1"+,,*4$'-+'5"(6"#$%&'()$"7(8-$" !

OLD AFRICA

"##!$#%!&$'(!)*%!+,-#(!$.!/01&-$20!3$4(0!)*%!560,-!+40(5(! )-0!,*7,50%!5$!560!8456),+)!9#4&!$*!:56!;0<501&0-!=>?=! .-$1!@<1A!!B,C205(!)-0!D;6!E>>>!<0-!<0-($*A!/#0)(0! C$*5)C5!8F!G4,H50*I9$4#($*J! -0+,(5-)-K<01&-$206$4(0A(CA20L!M=NO!P>Q!@==!N=E!R@O!

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

NUTTY MEMORIES by Ewart Walker

1949

When my parents told us three kids we were going to live overseas in a country with the magical name of Tanganyika with a capital called Dar es Salaam, meaning Haven of Peace, I wondered how much better life could get! I would be leaving my prep school in Leamington in Warwickshire, and heading overseas to Africa. I was mad about all things mechanical – cars, aeroplanes, meccano sets, etc – and when we were told we would ﬂy to Dar, my own particular cup runneth over. My enthusiasm was a little dampened later when (after my father had left for Dar ahead of us) I learned we would travel by ship instead. The trip from Tilbury docks in London to Dar via Suez aboard the Dunnottar Castle was the ﬁrst of many such trips and I’ve loved ships ever since.

A map of Tanganyika showing Nachingwea in the Southern Province, one of three sites chosen for the Groundnut Scheme.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

Tractors towing rooters in the early days at Kongwa.

The entrance to the harbour in Dar is beautiful – a very narrow neck moving into a great bowl-like anchorage. We arrived at about 7 pm, and the view of twinkling fairy lights through the dimly noticeable palm trees, which encircled the harbour, is imbedded in my memory forever. We drove to the Splendid Hotel on the main Acacia Avenue, where we spent the first week of our lives in Africa. The hotel was a very typical Moorish building with high ceilings, many electric fans and large permanently open windows. I spent my first night under a ‘mossie’ net and listened to the magical noises of Africa at night. My father, a chartered accountant, had joined the Overseas Food Corporation (the ‘posh’ name of the Groundnut Scheme) and would soon be seconded to Nachingwea in the Southern Province. My sister (lucky girl) flew to Nairobi a few days later to join the Kenya High School, known as the ‘Heifer Boma.’ My brother and I received the depressing but inevitable news that we were off to a boarding school called Lushoto. The thought of school again after so many weeks of freedom set us back a bit but I didn’t care, as we were to fly there. Well, actually only part of the way, from Dar to Tanga. I was so excited I had no sleep at all the night before. The plane was a De Havilland ‘Dove,’ an 8-10 seater twin-engine aircraft. My love of flying began on that day. What a thrill for me! We went from Tanga to Korogwe by train then rode a bus (well, a converted Albion lorry) to Mombo and then 20 miles up into the Usambara Mountains on a scary twisty dirt road with steep precipices on the edge. This was Africa as I imagined it, real Tarzan country: green tropical jungle, thick forests, tall mountains all around, African villages and mud huts with makuti roofs, and happy African children swarming round the bus at each brief stop. Finally we reached the

OLD AFRICA

Chain clearing with tractors at Urambo.

school at 6000 feet above sea level perched on the side of a hill in a small valley. It was a really remarkable enterprise owned and run by Mr Smith and his wife. The school had about 60-70 children ages 6 to 13, about half boys and half girls and of course all boarders. I was there till the end of 1950 when, by some amazing fluke, I managed to pass the Kenya exam and was accepted into the Prince of Wales School in Nairobi. I loved every moment of my time at Lushoto. I suppose I must have done some work but my abiding memory is of lots of outdoor sports and wonderful weekend adventures. Opposite the school was a mountain going up to about 8,500 feet, which was called ‘The Old Man’ and at least twice a term we climbed it taking most of a Sunday to achieve it. Only the top two years were allowed to attempt the summit, the younger ones went abut three quarters of the way up. On other days we trekked to ‘World’s View,’ a three-hour hike through the forests to a sheer cliff, which dropped straight down 5000 feet to the plains below. I clearly remember my first day at Lushoto School. After my brother and I were given a brief tour of the school, we were plunked straight into class – in my case a Latin class. The teacher, Miss Goodwin, looked about a hundred years old to me (she was probably only 50). Her nickname was ‘Battle Axe’ and we were all petrified of her. I had no idea what Latin was and when Battle Axe put in front of me the first page of what was a Latin Primer and said, “Learn that,” I was totally lost. I looked at the book and it showed on the left Amos Amas Amat, on the right Amamus Amatis Amant, and above the left hand was the word ‘sing’ (for singular) and on the right ‘plur’ (for plural). I suddenly panicked thinking ‘sing’ meant I would have to stand up and sing the words. I never did like Latin. In that first class I was one of seven pupils, compared with my Leamington school where

OLD AFRICA

between 1943 and 1949 there was an average of 50 children per class. We spent Christmas holidays in 1949 at a most unusual place called Mgulani Camp. It was a Groundnut transit camp built near the old Dar airport, down across the causeway at the back of the harbour. It comprised hundreds of rondavels built of coral and cement with large, high makuti roofs. Groundnutters transiting between the three main groundnut-growing areas of Kongwa, Urambo, and Nachingwea lived there using (as in our case) two or three rondavels sort of joined together for people with families. There was a huge dining area, again with a massive makuti roof, where everyone ate. There was unlimited good food, particularly oceans of fresh fruit, more than we could eat and so different to the rationed food situation we had been used to in England. The rest of the 1950s holidays we went to Nachingwea where my father had been seconded. ‘Nach,’ as it was known, was down by the Portuguese East border (now Mozambique) and probably the best of the three groundnut areas. Nach was a pioneer town built totally from scratch out of the bush. The only way in was by plane so I had lots of flights to enjoy, often stopping at grass airstrips of outlying towns on the way there. The holidays flew by with nonstop fun and adventures - building tree houses in the bush, going on game watching safaris, picnics on most weekends to fascinating places such as Ndanda, Crucifix Hill near Masasi, and the long drive to Lindi at the coast. Midweek we often got the chance to watch the very exciting (for school boys) bush clearing with two huge bulldozers dragging a length of ship’s anchor chain between them to pull down the bush in no time at all. We got to be experts on the difference between D6, D8, and the huge D10 caterpillar bulldozers; sort of like train spotting with a difference. Nach had the inevitable ‘club,’ which was ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012 29

no more than a large open sided makuti roofed building housing a bar and ping pong tables. It was the centre of Nach’s social life both for grown ups and children. Every Saturday night there was an outdoor film show with 35 mm films being flown in from Dar. Everyone brought their canvas safari chairs and probably as many as 100 or more watched a specially erected screen on an open space near the clubhouse. Some technical wizard manned the projector, run by a large generator, which hummed away in the distance. The film often snapped – leading to much humorous jeering - but a good time was had by all. So what was the Groundnut Scheme (GNS) that brought my family to Africa? United Africa Company, a well-respected company and part of Unilever, had done a study in 1946 on the possibility of growing groundnuts on a pilot basis in Tanganyika, suggesting a very modest acreage to be grown as a trial. When presented with this idea, Britain’s new Labour Government of Clem Atlee saw an opportunity to make political capital and it was not long before the idea had snowballed to 150,000 acres and the go ahead was given. The political angle was that the project would produce vegetable oil for the poor English housewife, something they had not seen for years due to wartime shortages. It was a government-run project, as opposed to commercial, and with the looming election, there was a need to produce results quickly. Almost anything that could go wrong did go wrong for the Groundnut Scheme. Rainfall figures for Kongwa had been incorrectly collated; far less actual rain fell than was needed to grow groundnuts. Supply of vital heavy equipment was delayed or just unavailable and what was

needed often had to be bought from extremely ‘dodgy’ war surplus agents. There was the classic and humorous situation of obtaining some war surplus bulldozers (from the far east I think) when they had to take a ‘job lot.’ When the order arrived at the Dar port, besides the dozers it included 5,000 army great coats, just what they needed in tropical Tanganyika! The quality of such army surplus equipment had to be taken on trust and often turned out to be rusty at best and unusable at worst. The whole operation started from absolutely nothing. Tens of thousands of acres of remote bush had to be converted into functioning groundnut estates. Agronomists, engineers, doctors, dentists, nurses, accountants, lawyers, specialized drivers, and many more technical staff were required. Airports, hospitals, roads, workshops, ofﬁces, and staff houses all had to be built and at a huge cost and budgets were overrun. The inevitable happened and between 1951 and 1952 the Groundnut Scheme was wound down and ﬁnally abandoned. It had been a huge government ‘white elephant.’ The cost to the British taxpayer was variously calculated at about £50 million but the cost was probably even higher. And the end result was lots of rusting equipment being overgrown in the bush. In about 1956 or 1957 when I was briefly with Cooper Brothers chartered accountants in Dar, I went as a very lowly junior clerk with some senior staff to audit the Overseas Food Corporation in Nachingwea, an interesting trip down memory lane for me. We had been sent to check the existence of a large number of rusty broken pieces of equipment stored in a huge outdoor yard, all totally worthless. But the British government required it to be done. The rusty equipment is probably still there today. Personally, I am thankful for the Groundnut Scheme. It brought me to East Africa where I spent most of the next 50 years of my life. I was brought up there, educated there, met my future wife there, and it’s where my two wonderful daughters were born. I have been forever grateful to my parents for making that rather daring decision to move from the relative comfort of England to an unknown life in Africa. Photo credit: The photos and maps used in this article originally appeared in the book The Groundnut Affair by Alan Wood, © 1950.

Though the Groundnut Scheme failed, there was a harvest of groundnuts from the wilderness.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

AN ODE TO INDIAN CINEMAGOERS IN NAIROBI - PART 2 by Neera Kapur-Dromson Drive-In Cinema Culture My childhood was the era of the drive-in cinemas. One drove in a car to watch a film! The Fox Drive-In had opened soon after the Second World War, but right up until independence entry was restricted to ‘Whites only,’ so we didn’t ‘drive-in’ there until much after independence. A second drive-in cinema, the BelleVue, opened in Nairobi, not far from the South ‘C’ area on Mombasa Road. Films could only be screened at night, after darkness descended. The huge area, like a parking lot, was dotted with speakers. Cars drove in and we watched a film under the stars. It was great, especially on Sundays when the latest Indian film was screened. After a quick Sunday lunch, we prepared the feast to take with us. We had to leave the house by 4 pm – even though the film would start after 7 pm –to avoid the long queues and to arrive early enough to get a parking place with the best angle for viewing. You drove your car next to a working speaker and

hung it to the window by its plastic wire. Often speakers were squeaky or did not work. Once, we nearly drove off, with the speaker still hanging on to the window! There was seating space for those without cars, just below the projection booth – the only inconvenience being that they had to sit out in the cold. There was a bar, which also served delicious chicken soup. During the intermission, we took out our big kikapus and spread out our feast. We ate in the car. Heading off early to the Drive-In was very important to see the social and communal scene – and to be seen! Going to watch a ﬁlm was not just for the ﬁlm. It was a complete day of entertainment. It was a rendezvous for people of all ages. As soon as the car parked, we were all out, walking for the next two hours all over the ground. Mamas met each other. There would be much exchange of gossip and news, even matchmaking of their children! We, the youth, checked out the latest fashion trends and the boys teased girls (away from

The Globe Cinema on the end of Kijabe Street is now a church.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

the gaze of the elders). It was also easy on families with babies as they could have an evening out and take care of crying babies at the same time. The passion of cinema was so strong that not many days after she gave birth to her daughter, my friend Chandrika Patel encouraged her husband to take her to the BelleVue. In the hurry and excitement of the event, they forgot to turn off the cooker while preparing milk for the infant. Fortunately, they remembered soon after driving in. They drove home, switched off the cooker, and drove back – all in good time! Every film had to have at least ten songs. We learnt them all by heart. They were released before the film itself. They inspired a game called antkari or antakshari, a musical game that became immensely popular, played in a group of two or more, with simple rules. The first person started the game by singing a song. The letter with which the song ended was passed on to the next contestant. The next person had to sing a song starting with the same letter as the last song ended with. We could go on for hours. During jaagran nights, when we had to forego sleep hoping to have a vision of a deity, few of us actually thought of spiritual elevation! It became a night for watching two or three films continuously, until daybreak. Sometimes at the drivein you paid by the car load and then all the cars came in packed!

OLD AFRICA

The old Odeon Cinema is now a gaming centre.

Cinemas and cinema life has changed in the 21st century. The BelleVue Drive-In Cinema has become a church. So has the Globe Cinema, and also the Embassy. The old cinema halls became churches due to intense Christian missionary zeal, higher ticket prices and lack of cinema-goers. Yet, at one time, attending cinema on a Sunday was almost as religious as going to the temple. Cinema culture became a powerful force in the 20th century. It was affordable for all, not just the ﬁlmi buffs. It was easy entertainment and we looked forward throughout the week to the next Sunday. Films will remain with us for a long time to come, but, alas, the closing of so many cinema halls marks the end of a shared and collective lifestyle. For a while, video libraries thrived. Now even the video era is gone. Today, ﬁlms can be watched in the comfort of one’s home – in pyjamas, switched on, paused, switched off at will to be continued later – on DVDs that are increasingly affordable. Films can also be easily downloaded on to your computer. And interactive video games have captured the youth. The Odeon Cinema is now a gaming centre.

OLD AFRICA

Yet, such are some of the perils of the internet age and technology that even the content of the films has changed. We, our parents and grandparents, lived in the glamour and the fantasy world that became real in our minds. Even the choice of our partners – when we could choose that is – was influenced by the physical looks of the stars and the divas. Today’s child is increasingly influenced by violence and open sex. Are we watching the death of romance, of stolen kisses, of hidden exchanges, of love poetry? Going to the Cinema in the 1940s & 1950s in Nairobi by Dr Visho Sharma as told to Neera Kapur-Dromson Indians in colonial Kenya were free to attend English cinemas. Customarily, we sat separated in racial clusters – Brown and White. We had to leave home well prepared (Boy Scouts, you know) as we wouldn’t be able to use the toilet for the two hours or so; for – unlike South Africa – there was NO relief facility provided for those who came biologically tanned. Sometimes, when we got home there was hell to pay. Our denials of having embarked on an excursion to the cinema were too often betrayed by shirts reeking with smoke from Senior Service and State Express 555. We continued to make frequent visits to various cinema houses: Capital (later Ambassador); Empire (now replaced by a four-storey slab of concrete); Kenya; the truly Regal (the first to bite the dust, along with the horses that it gloriously depicted); and Playhouse (now also no more).

Cinema in the Hindustani medium was the staple of Indian families. Even the devout and the indigent were drawn every now and then to doses of intermittent religious claptrap featured at the Empire (which ‘swung’ – showing both English and Indian fare), Filmindia, Green, Odeon and Shan. Colonial times had one solitary grace – security. A large part of the Indian public lived some two to four miles away in a huge complex that quartered Indian families dependent on a huge ‘railway service’ and government civil service. The cinema, besides the mandir, the mosque, the gurudvara, the jamatkhana and the church, provided the main excursion for the Indian family. Almost always carless, families walked across the swamp around the Nairobi River, which separates the Kenyan capital’s downtown from the then main Indian residential areas to the north. They walked to their cinemas, sometimes at midnight, with no fear. No one can do that now. But the security of that time rested on strict enforcement. By law, Africans (then abominably referred to as ‘Natives’) were not allowed anywhere in Nairobi unless they carried a kipande (permit) testifying to their being gainfully employed. The supply line of Hindustani ﬁlms, ﬁrst from Calcutta and Bombay was fast and furious. To cite actors’ names will betray my age, but what the heck. There was Devika Rani, Jayshree, Kamini Kaushal, Kanan, Khurshid, Nargis, Naseem, Noor Jehan, Nutan and her mother (Shobhna Samarath) to pine over; as for the distaff, Prithviraj, Sohrab Modi, Raj Kapoor, Dev Anand, and Dilip Kumar were dutifully there. But music was

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

the mainstay of these films – famously leavening narrative with very poetic songs. Indian movies still carry on one highly eccentric tradition: in no Indian – or for that matter Pakistani – movie can the hero chase his beloved around the legendry mulberry bush without mouthing a song sung by a talented ‘playback’ singer. In the olden days, all stars sang their own songs. K L Saigal and Kanan Devi were not only leading actors, they were most accomplished singers. Saigal, surely, was more famous than Caruso. But Lata and Mukesh (after a brief career as a lead actor) provided the main singing talent, giving each film a quality not achieved by the actors to whom they gave musical voice. The 1940s and 1950s beckoned Hindustani cinema’s heyday. Great movies were produced – Dharti Ke Lal, Padosi, Sikandar, Dr Kotnis Ki Amar Kahani, Ram Rajya, Shaheed and Tansen. Though overshadowed by Satyajit Ray, other great directors abounded – Sohrab Modi, V Shantaram and Raj Kapoor. Cinema-going Nairobi Indians in the 1940s and the 1950s celebrated a medium that portrayed Indian culture’s principal features. We rejoiced in our musical heritage, especially our classical music (the most ‘scientific’ in both scale and discipline) and poetry. Our poetry, leaning heavily on Arabic and Persian contributions, is profound, filled with depth, tenor and cadence. Even though our music is native to India and par excellence, we draw heavily from the Arabic ghazal, the anguish of a gazelle that has been deeply stricken. Composed in its unique style of a self-contained, fully meaningful stanzas (usually five in number), there is more 34

to our music and poetry than the sung ghazal, especially the treasure trove we’ve derived from our Vedic past. In the 1940s and the 1950s, we cited our films less than the poetry and music featured in them. Great poets were as much our icons as were a buxom beauty, say Madhubala, or a raging lion like Prithviraj. This is not to say that Dilip Kumar didn’t set a template for our speech -- no less than Marlon Brando gave all actors a unique freedom; but by bringing to life the poetry of Mir, Ghalib, Zauq, to name just a few, films established a heritage that, sad to say, is now passing. Prasad could write (and we’d see it in motion): “Meri havaa meiN rahegi khayal ki bijli/ Yeh musht-e khaaq hai, faani rahe na rahe.” [In ether will survive like electric my thoughts/This (body corporeal) is a fistful of dust, so what if it perishes!] Indian, and their derivative Pakistani, films follow the old formula, with mandatory songs; but their poetry now give us songs with lines like: “You will be in your Rolls Royce [just to sound classical!], I’ll chase you in my BMW.”

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

There was film and there was family – Indians fittingly reversed the order in importance. In the 1950s, outdoor cinema came to Nairobi – first in Ruaraka (the theatre fizzled out a decade or so later). The Belle Vue, athwart a new Indian residential area on the road to Mombasa, added a novel pastime. By now well-motored, Indian families engaged in a socialization set with family and friends more important than cinema-going. Long after the film was over, one would recount who was there – and how terribly overdressed and resplendent in jewellery were the viewers (hang the actors!). As the featured movie played on the big screen, families exchanged snacks, starters, dishes of delectable aroma – and sometimes whole meals. Sometimes rudely interrupted by shush-shushing numskulls who had actually come to watch the movie, families exchanged gossip, started rumours, and struck deals even as the hero chased another heroine around endless mulberry bushes. Those were the days, my friend.

The Shan Cinema as it is today.

OLD AFRICA

BOOK REVIEWS From Foot Safaris to Helicopters: 100 years of the Davis family in missions by Art Davis To English children growing up in the 1950s, the word ‘missionary’ evoked mystery or misfortune. The mystery was why those with Christian commitment selflessly abandoned the safety of ‘home’ to introduce Christianity and the Bible to places like Africa. From Foot Safaris to Helicopters shows the success of one missionary family. This is a fascinating cavalcade of adventure in which Presidents and Princes pop up and spans 100 years - and three generations - of an American family. It begins with the arrival of the author’s grandparents, Dr Elwood and Bernice Davis, in 1911 to British East Africa. Art Davis deploys his ability to spin family yarns about their lives with the fledgling Africa Inland Mission. The early intrepid evangelists learned the vernacular, opened clinics, hospitals and schools and no matter the challenge, faith in God’s work kept them striving. Art Davis’s generation used four-wheel-drive vehicles and helicopters to dispense medicine and the Bible, a far cry from their antecedents with ox drawn vehicles. Davis’s narrative is peppered with charming solutions; for meat they shot buck. Pesky warthogs? They rewarded local Masaai a shilling per tail so 140 were delivered within two days! The American flag flew proud at the Kijabe mission station above the Kedong Valley in 1909 when former president Theodore Roosevelt laid the cornerstone for the large Kiambogo building at Rift Valley Academy. Friendship extended by the 22nd Earl of Erroll at Oserian on Lake Naivasha is enlightening. Bernice wrote: “… the Earl and Countess (are) coming to…lunch. Papa called last Sunday to see her. She was quite ill. They brought us six lovely fresh fish…” The Errolls invited the Davises to Oserian for a weekend house party which included the Balfours. Bernice Davis interpreted for the Prince of Wales (later Edward VIII) when the Kikuyu people at the Kijabe railway station welcomed him. He warned her against telling American newspapers about his wit. Linnell and Martha Davis came to Kenya as missionaries in 1938 and raised their four sons in Kenya. Their boys all attended Rift Valley Academy at Kijabe, surviving several scares during the Mau Mau Emergency. The colony marched toward independence. The Word of God continued to spread. Linnell helped start Scott Theological College to provide pastors and leaders for the Africa Inland Church. Three of Linnell and Martha’s sons returned to Kenya to work as missionaries. For those who have ever wondered what missionaries actually do, here is a fascinating answer. Reviewed by Errol Trzebinski From Foot Safaris to Helicopters is available for Ksh 1800/- from Bookstop in Yaya Centre. Or it can be ordered online from iuniverse.com or from amazon.com Quadrille in Kenya by Enid Dawson This book’s title caught my attention. What was a quadrille and how did it get to Kenya? Turns out it’s a traditional square dance usually performed by four couples. The author has written an intriguing novel about four ranching families in the Backlands of Kenya near a fictional town called Chemchem. The book traces the lives of these families – known as The Friends – on large ranches in the bush where they battle fires and lions to raise cattle. Dawson draws memorable characters –Frannie with his lame leg, Glory Hallelujah who has transferred her Scottish lifestyle into the middle of Africa, Corn and West – two incorrigible bachelors – and Libby Winchester who struggles after her fiancée leaves her at the altar to marry someone else. Dawson paints vivid pictures of life in Kenya’s rugged back country, obviously based on her personal observations after years of living in national parks and ranches. The book has romance, adventure and a murder to solve. Sometimes the plethora of characters with similar sounding names can be confusing (there’s a Frannie and a Frank, there’s a Maria and a Mario, a Madge and a Mumps) and the plot bumps from romance to murder mystery, but through it all the author has woven powerful threads of love, family, friendship and faith. And those threads are what make this book such a believable novel about ranching in colonial Kenya, right down to the unexpected ending. Reviewed by Shel Arensen Available at Bookstop at Yaya Centre

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

RICHARD ONDENG STUDIES AT MASENO SCHOOL by Ingvard Wilhelmsen

1942

Richard Ondeng entered Maseno School in 1942, one of the biggest national schools at the time. One of the teachers was Oginga Odinga. Maseno could only take 32 children in each class, but that year the school initially took all 42 students who had passed. For one month all 42 were in one class. Meanwhile, the headmaster was making arrangements for ten students to be transferred to some other schools that hadn’t gotten enough students. Richard was among the ten to be transferred because his father was not known by the missionary teachers at Maseno. Richard was taken to Nyang’ori, a junior secondary boarding school, around 30 miles from Maseno. It was a difficult change. One other student from Richard’s home village of Ng’iya had also been transferred to Nyang’ori. The two of them now had a longer distance to travel from home. In those days there was no public means of transport, so they would walk on foot to Maseno and a further 30 miles to Nyang’ori. Life there was more difficult and they had a rough time. In the dormitory the prefects were Luhya. Richard was mistreated and he had to do work for other children. He would clean the dormitory, spread beds for them, go and fetch water for the prefect and other chores. Sometimes they would take meat from his plate and only leave soup with ugali for him. That was tribal discrimination. The school was run by Pentecostal missionaries from Canada, who were very nice. Maseno was run by Anglicans. Richard persevered at Nyang’ori for two terms. He was almost going to run away, but after two terms they made Richard a junior prefect. Then he had some status. In his second year he was senior prefect, in charge of a dormitory. He became known to many of the missionaries and teachers, and they loved him. He was active in the field, outgoing and social. In class he always had his hand up. He discovered it was his nature to be involved. Many missionaries invited him to their homes. Among his teachers at Nyang’ori were John and Ella McBride. They came from Canada and began their missionary work in Kenya in 1943. John McBride worked at the Nyang’ori mission station, where he

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

supervised the Pentecostal school system. He became the principal of the school after Richard’s second year there. Richard became close friends with the McBrides. Wherever headmaster McBride went, Ondeng was there. If he went to the field, Ondeng was there, if he went to church, Ondeng was there. Richard admits that at this time he was a pretender. He had learnt that if you want to get along with people, find out what they want and do exactly that. He also found that this was not entirely wrong or stupid, if it held some reward. Secondary School at Maseno After three years Richard did another government examination, similar to the KCPE of today. Those who passed qualified to go to Form One. Maseno and Yala were the only schools in the whole of what was then Nyanza Province to have Form One. Richard passed and qualified for entry into Maseno Form One. The exam was very competitive, but he passed well and headed back to Maseno. This was during the Second World War. The prospect of joining the army was exciting, and Richard thought those young men who had been in the army looked very elite. One day during his time at Maseno ten of them secretly decided to leave the school and join the army. One morning they disappeared. The army centre where they were enlisting was two miles away from the school. Richard and his nine friends went there and enlisted in the morning. At 3 pm a train came, and they climbed on. They had left everything in school, but had now been given uniforms. They went by train to Kisumu and further on to Gilgil, close to Nakuru. However, word came to the Anglican Archdeacon Owen that ten students from Maseno School had enlisted in the army. The Archdeacon sent an order and the ten boys were intercepted at Gilgil and brought back to Maseno. The war hardly interfered with their lives and affected them only indirectly, but Richard, like many others, wanted to be a soldier. After Richard and the others arrived back at school, the Archdeacon lectured them, “Don’t do that again, you were

OLD AFRICA

Richard Ondeng

destined for better things!” Richard wasn’t sure what he meant by that. First meeting with Oginga Odinga, the teacher Jaramogi Oginga Odinga (1911-1994), a Luo Chief, Kenya’s ﬁrst Vice President and the father of the present Prime Minister of Kenya, Raila Odinga, was one of Richard Ondeng’s teachers at Maseno. According to Richard, Odinga was very radical and very honest. He was committed to his word and would never lie. He always said what he meant, even if you did not agree with him. One day Odinga sent Richard to his in-lawsto-be, to let them know he would come there to visit them and discuss the bride price. He gave Richard his bicycle to ride from Maseno. When Richard went to this family’s home, it rained heavily and on his way back he was unable to reach the school that day. So he spent a night away from the school. The next morning Richard pushed the bicycle back to the school. When Richard reached the school he was

OLD AFRICA

informed that the principal had gone around and discovered he was away, because the children in the dormitory of which he was in charge were noisy with lights on beyond the required time. He went to check and realised Richard was away. He demoted Richard from the position of being in charge of the dormitory, even before he came back, so when Richard arrived back at school he was already demoted. Richard washed the bicycle, took it to Odinga’s place and told him what had happened. When Odinga learned Richard had been demoted he became furious and went to the principal and protested against the demotion. Odinga said he had sent the boy on the errand, and if there was to be any discipline it should be him to be disciplined, and not Richard. At the staff meeting on the following day Odinga won and Richard was reinstated. Richard Ondeng is known as a passionate Christian educator. He was a teacher and headmaster before becoming Education Secretary for Nyanza Province in 1962. Following a study leave in the USA, he returned to Kenya and was appointed Secretary General of the Christian Churches Educational Association (CCEA), where he served for 14 years before becoming Deputy General Secretary of the National Council of Churches of Kenya (NCCK) in 1980, a position he held until 1990. A wellknown leader at the Nairobi Pentecostal Church, Ondeng was also responsible for setting up a special bursary trust fund for girls. Richard Ondeng’s son-in-law, Ingvar Wilhelmsen, has written Richard’s life story, from which this short portion has been excerpted. Old Africa Books plans to publish Richard Ondeng’s biography in the near future.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

HISTORIC WORSHIP SITES

PART 28 - ST SWITHIN’S, ELDAMA RAVINE by Juliet Barnes

ittle seems to have been written about Eldama Ravine: I gleaned from Elspeth Huxley’s writings that Abu Bakr, on a safari at the end of the 19th century with the Uganda Rifles, recalled no inhabitants around Mau summit and Trans Nzoia, apart from at Eldama Ravine. Juma Hajee, who came to the East African Protectorate in 1904, had a duka at Hajee’s Drift in 1907 and later on another at Eldama Ravine. Today there’s a quiet tarmac road to Eldama Ravine, left off the Baringo road before Mogotio. After the road on the right into the town there’s a road on the left going up a hill with a signpost to St Swithin’s Anglican Church. The simple and small stone church is on a hill, commanding magnificent views. The church has a wooden main door and smaller side door leading into the vestry beneath the side tower. A white lace cloth graced the altar and a vase of fresh flowers. On the wall behind is a wooden cross. The pews and lectern are wooden, the altar rails and pulpit wrought iron. A copy of The Last Supper hangs above the pulpit and at the back of the church is a list of vicars back to 1963. An old Mzee joined us. A man called Gunson built the church in 1957, he said, and today it still celebrates St Swithin’s Day. He showed us

some old graves, down a littleused track on the right. A stand of large jacaranda trees shaded a tangle of shrubs. Rising from the jumble was a gravestone, with letters missing, but I managed to discern that here lay: “Victor, son of George and Isabel Tusen.” The age was missing, but it was dated 1936. Later Grev Gunson told me Victor Tuson was son of Colonel and Mrs Tuson, post-First World War soldiersettlers. They owned Sabatia Farm. Victor died of malaria followed by pneumonia. Other gravestones lay beneath thickets too tangled to penetrate. Grev Gunson, who had directed me to the church in the ﬁrst place, had told us to look around ‘The Boma.’ So we drove there next, built a little further up the hill. We failed to ﬁnd the prefab house on stilts, originally imported from India for the Head of Administration, around 1906, with a ‘moat’ around the stone wall encircling the house, as it’s part of the now heavily guarded DC’s residence. Joseph Murumbi, son of a Goan clerk and a Nandi girl and Kenya’s second Vice President, was born there. Grev Gunson, who was brought up in Eldama Ravine, remembered a cave, where some Italian prisoners of war who’d escaped from Londiani hid during World War II. It was well hidden by a waterfall on the Arama River. The

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

local people gave them food until they were taken back to the Londiani POW camp. Grev wrote to me: “My ﬁrst memory of church services in Ravine is that they were held in a rectangular hall that was the old prison. Then monthly services were held in individual homes – mostly the Gunson house. During this time money was collected.” And thus St Swithins was built gradually from the mid 1950s. Commander Pearson (Pearie), ex-Royal Navy, awarded the DSC in both Wars and last out of Tobruk, designed the church and made moulds for the arches and cedar pews. Other farmers provided cut stone and labour. Among other farmers who assisted were Puggy and Millie Smith, whose daughter, Mary, married Michael Low second son of Archdeacon and Nellie Low. The Archdeacon’s daughter, Myra, married Wilfred Hopcraft of Loldia, Naivasha. “St Swithins was a harambee effort by the local farming community,” explains Grev. Bishop Crabbe, the Bishop of Mombasa, consecrated the church. Beatrice Gunson was married there in 1959 and Grev’s two elder children were christened there. An old gramophone was the sole source of music. Grev Gunson nostalgically recalled the view from the church over “Ravine farming land, the Rift Valley, the

OLD AFRICA

St Swithin’s in Eldama Ravine eastern hills and, on a clear day, the tops of Mt Kenya and Kilimanjaro could be seen.” He also remembers pulling together as a community: “Like all settler farmer districts in the 1950s, there was huge community support and togetherness.” We visited on a hazy January

day and we didn’t glimpse any snowy mountaintops. Eldama Ravine is now a big town. Its development is indebted to former President Moi, who taught at Kabimoi, on the Narasourra River. Meanwhile the former Governor of the Bank of Kenya, Eric Bomet, has a huge ﬂower and vegetable

farm on the former Collier Perkerra farm. For anybody who hasn’t seen Eldama Ravine since the 1950s, it has changed unrecognisably - apart from St Swithin’s, the little church on the hill.

In our June-July 2012 issue of Old Africa we ran an article on the late Monty Brown’s dedicated work restoring and maintaining the old Nairobi South cemetery, next to Uhuru Highway at the end of the Railway Golf Club. Monty’s wife, Barbara Brown, lives in Nanyuki and is battling to keep up with this work. Is there a dedicated historian who lives nearer Nairobi who might take over? If you or someone you know could help with this project, contact Old Africa at editorial@oldafricamagazine.com.

BOUND VOLUMES OF OLD AFRICA Make your collection of Old Africa magazines a real collector’s item! Have them professionally bound by Ferguson Sharp Book Binders in Nairobi. Twelve magazines ﬁt in one bound volume. Contact Old Africa for details. If your collection is missing issues or if you wish to purchase a full set for binding, we have back issues in stock including some of our rare earlier editions. Send an email to us at: editorial@oldafricamagazine.com and put ‘Magazine Binding’ in the subject box of your email.

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

GOLF THEN & NOW GILGIL COUNTRY CLUB by Blake Arensen

he Old Africa golfing duo stood on the first tee at Gilgil Country Club getting ready to play a round with former golf captain Rob Harte, who learned to play golf on this course while a student at Pembroke House. We took a few practice swings, stepped up to the ball and let fire. Two of the three tee shots narrowly missed hitting passing matatus as hole #1 crosses the Gilgil-Nyahururu road. Thankfully we didn’t have to spend the morning haggling over paying for broken matatu windows and instead spent a perfect morning at Gilgil in ideal golfing conditions. The fairways were in great shape due to the vast amount of rain over the last few months. Gilgil has a fun layout with a great mix of short and loooong holes. It is a 9-hole course but each hole has two sets of tees so the back nine plays quite differently from the front. A few of the holes change par from the front nine to the back. For example the first hole is a short par-4 but when you tee it up as the tenth hole, it plays as a 241yard par-3. Holes four, five, seven and eight also change par from the front to the back nine. Local knowledge prevailed on the browns, which were rolling quite slowly. We were more used to the browns at the Naivasha golf course, which are quite fast. It took us a few holes to get the speed down. It took the Old Africa Editor Shel Arensen until the last hole to really judge the speed when he poured in a putt from about 50 feet for par. Rob mentioned to me halfway through the round that his Old Africa subs were almost due. I said he should have wagered the renewal on the match because at that point he had bested our scores on most the holes! He did end up winning the round and we shared a Coke at the bar looking through old photos and match books the club has preserved over the years. Originally called the Gilgil Golf Club, the course was laid out by Alan Gibson and officially opened on Empire Day 1926, with teams from Nairobi, Njoro and Nakuru attending the inaugural competition. Local knowledge prevailed that day as well, with Gilgil winning.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

Alan Gibson, who laid out the Gilgil golf course, strikes the ball.

Frederick St Maur, an early golﬁng member at Gilgil, drew clever caricatures of several members, including this one of Alan Gibson.

OLD AFRICA

Rob Harte tees off on the ninth hole with Mackie’s Tree to the right. In fact, though the club had only twenty-or-so playing members, Gilgil Club held an unbeaten record on their home course for nine years before ﬁnally losing to the Royal Nairobi Club on 22 September 1935. The clubhouse burnt to the ground during World War II, but the current stone clubhouse makes a delightful setting after a round of golf. Despite losing many early records, the club’s matchbook dates back to 1936, with mention to the ﬁrst ten years and detailed competition results in the years that follow. As we perused the matchbook, an old score card fell out. It was the card for the course record, 74 strokes, set by KAW Goodall on 12 November 1950 during the Rift Valley Championship. The Gilgil golf course is adjacent to Pembroke House School, and many golf members have been associated with the school. Leo Mackie, a long-time teacher at the school (he was also Housemaster of Pinks House and on three occasions stepped in as Headmaster), was

golf captain for many years. Mackie came to Kenya in 1955 after serving in the Indian army. A tree between the tee boxes for the ninth and eighteenth holes was planted in his memory and is called Mackie’s Tree. Sue Scholes, the golf club secretary for over thirty years, was bursar at Pembroke during that same period. Today Gilgil has less than 20 active golﬁng members. Sue Brendon and Sean Wheeler are the current club captains. Gilgil is a quiet place to enjoy a challenging round of golf.

KAW Goodall’s scorecard from his course record 74.

A golfer shows good form with his head down as he tees off in front of the clubhouse.

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

HISTORY MYSTERY CONTEST Win a Ksh 3000/- gift certiďŹ cate from Text Book Centre! Look at our mystery monument. Where is it located? What was it used for? When was it built and why? Do you have any personal stories about this place? If so, include your story with your entry.

Contest Deadline: For this prize we have to receive your entry by August 30, 2012. Send your answer to this History Mystery contest along with any story you may have to: History Mystery Contest, Old Africa Magazine, Box 65, Kijabe, Kenya 00220. Or email your answer to: editorial@oldafricamagazine.com. Editors will choose the winning entry. The answer to our mystery contest will be announced in our next issue along with the name of the winner and his or her story about our mystery location. Be sure to include your P.O. Box and telephone contacts so we can inform the winner and tell him or her where to collect the prize. Family members of Old Africa staff members are ineligible to enter this contest. Photo by Emiliano Joanes

Our History Mystery Contest is sponsored by Text Book Centre.

â&#x20AC;Śmuch more than a Bookshop!

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

The German Railway Station Master’s house in the Amani Nature Reserve, Tanzania.

HISTORY MYSTERY CONTEST WINNER Liz de Leyser from Iringa, Tanzania, is the winner of the History Mystery Contest featured in our June-July 2012 magazine. Here’s her answer. The building shown in your June-July 2012 issue is the old Station Master’s house near the Botanical Gardens and Research station at Amani in the East Usambaras. In 1904 the Germans, who then ruled Tanganyika, built a small narrow gauge railway line from Tanga on the coast up to this spot on the Sigi River to transport timber. During the First World War the Germans in Tanganyika, whose vital supplies were cut off from Germany, had to produce a great many essential goods locally, such as rubber, soap, toothpaste, candles and medicines like quinine. The Amani Research station was a centre for the trials and testing of these items. The building has recently been renovated, preserving most of the original architecture, stone work and woodwork (mostly mvule). The house is now a small museum at the entrance to the Amani Nature Reserve, which was established in the l990s.

OLD AFRICA

Logging in the East Usambaras, c. 1905.

The railway terminus for the logging railway was at Sigi. ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA PHOTO ALBUM

(1) Mary McLean of Langata submitted these two photos marking the beginning and ending of hostilities the Italians from Abyssinia. Nairobi to celebrate VE Day (Victory Europe).

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

(3) Emiliano Joanes worked as a photojournalist for the East African Standard from 1962-1970. He writes: African life as it unfolded in front of his camera. The photo at the bus stop was taken on Harding Street. walk with her baby and a lantern beside her. A small boy wearing a hat, partially hidden behind a parcel, is near the bus stop post. And two more of the motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s children stand and watch city life.

(4) This photo was taken on a beach in Malindi. The kids had rigged their own high jump posts with a bar

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

HISTORY QUIZ COMPETITION Liz Brooke of Nairobi is the winner of our ﬁfth History Quiz Competition from Old Africa issue #41 June-July 2012. Congratulations to Liz who wins two nights for two at Satao Camp. We received 28 correct answers at our Old Africa ofﬁce in Naivasha by the contest deadline. The winning names were all placed in a bowl and swirled around and Liz’s name was picked out as the winner. Thanks to all who participated. If you didn’t win this time, have a go at our sixth quiz, which follows below. This month’s History Quiz Contest is sponsored by Satao Camp. Win two nights for two at Satao Camp! How closely did you read this issue of Old Africa? Answer the ten questions in our history quiz below and you have a chance to win a vacation at Satao Camp. All the answers are found in this issue of Old Africa. You don’t have to cut up your magazine. Just write the correct answers on a separate sheet of paper and send your entry along with your name and address and phone number to: History Quiz, Old Africa, Box 65, Kijabe, Kenya 00220. Or you can email your list of answers to editorial@oldafricamagazine. com The winner will be randomly chosen from all the correct entries received by the contest deadline, which is August 31, 2012.

1. What mountain did Rex Taylor almost crash into while ﬂying for the Police Airwing? 2. Who laid out the Gilgil Golf Club? 3. Who hitched a ride on a motorcycle in Geita, Tanganyika? 4. Who was one of Richard Ondeng’s teachers at Maseno School? 5. Who was vice-captain of the East Africa rugby team in their 1955 clash with the British Lions? 6. Name one of the three areas in Tanganyika chosen for planting groundnuts. 7. Who was the headman for Bryan Hook’s safari in 1914? 8. What kind of vehicle was used as the school bus at Pembroke House in the 1950s? 9. Who forgot to turn the cooker off before heading to the drive-in cinema? 10. Name the man who told Palle Rune his version of the events in the Lord Erroll murder case.

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

OLD AFRICA

Todenyang Fort on Lake Turkana

HISTORIC PHOTO CONTEST

Nigel Pavitt of Nairobi is the winner of our Old Africa Historic Photo Contest for August-September 2012. He took this photograph of Todenyang Fort at the end of 1957 while serving as an officer with the King’s African Rifles. At the time Todenyang Fort had just been rebuilt by the PWD (Public Works Department) as a police post. However, the police at Namaruputh were not ready to move in, so Nigel moved in with his platoon of soldiers for about four months until operations against the Merille tribe of Ethiopia were concluded. The fort was situated on the northwest shore of Lake Turkana (then called Lake Rudolf), very close to the Omo Delta and the common border with Ethiopia. It replaced Fort Wilkinson - a fort that had been overrun by the Italians during World War II and subsequently bombed by the South African Air Force flying out of Lokitaung.

In the very heavy rains of 1961/62 the level of the lake rose considerably resulting in flooding and irreparable damage to the Todenyang Fort. The cement mixture was a major cause of its rapid deterioration because it had been made using alkaline lake water. When Nigel was researching his book on the Turkana people in the 1990s, he went back to Todenyang and was astonished to find the foundations of the fort - the only vestige of this grand folly - were a considerable distance from the lakeshore. This photograph shows the lake clearly visible behind the fort. Nigel remembers shooting whistling teal on the wing from the battlements of the fort with his .22 rifle. Nigel Pavitt wins a free copy of a book from Old Africa. Enter our Historic Photo Contest Old family albums hold many treasures. Enter one of your photos in our Historic Photo Contest and win a free book from Old Africa! And have the pleasure of sharing your photo with Old Africa readers around the world. The best way to send photos to Old Africa is to have them scanned as a jpeg file of 300 dpi resolution and email it to us at: editorial@oldafricamagazine.com Note on your email that you want this photo entered in our Historic Photo Contest. If you don’t have access to a scanner or to email, you can mail your photo or photos to us at: Old Africa, PO Box 65, Kijabe, Kenya 00220.

OLD AFRICA

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

MWISHOWE Diana Caldwell 1913-1987

The small cemetery sits atop a hill in Ndabibi, near Naivasha. Diana Caldwell is one of the key figures in the mystery of Lord Erroll’s death, as she was having a very public affair with him at the time of his murder in Karen. Diana’s first marriage was to Vernon Motion. In 1940 she married Sir Henry Delves Broughton in Durban as the couple headed to Kenya. After Lord Erroll’s death in 1941, Delves Broughton was tried and acquitted, but he committed suicide in 1942. Diana went on to marry Gilbert Colville, who owned a large cattle ranch called Ndabibi on the back edge of Lake Naivasha. After an amicable divorce, Diana married Thomas Cholmondeley, 4th Baron Delamere in 1955. Colville, Delamere and Diana remained good friends throughout their lives and all three are now buried side by side in one small cemetery on top of a hill in Colville’s old Ndabibi estate, surrounded by a wall with fig trees growing over the graves. There is a commanding view from the cemetery over Colville’s ranch, which has now been subdivided into small plots and homes and flower farms.

Diana Caldwell, who died in 1987 as Lady Delamere. Thomas Cholmondeley, 4th Baron Delamere, remembered as “So Great a Man.”

Gilbert Colville was the ﬁrst of the three friends to die, in 1966. 48

ISSUE NO.42 AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 2012

Diana’s epitaph states: Surrounded by all that I love.

OLD AFRICA