I’m devastated.
It was a long day, the longest day of my life: getting lost in an island, a fight, 2 police stations and being robbed by a group of 6 men with knives, losing my camera and all money I had left.
I woke up early in the morning. It was only 5am, so I decided to take a walk around Lamu island for the last time before heading back to Mombasa. The walk was nice, until I went deep inside the island and got terribly lost. The short walk turned out to take more than 4 hours. I was so tired that I had to knock on a house’s to ask for some water. The house owner gave me a glass of water, not clear but white, and I could see all the nasty things swimming inside. But I was too thirsty and too polite to decline. It tasted like washing detergent.
I came back to where I was staying on the island to get my stuff. There I had a fight with the house owner over the bill. He told me a price when I came, but when I checked out he asked for another price. I was so tired and just wanted to get back to Mombasa, so I paid him anyway. I left feeling like an idiot. Later, probably ridden with guilt, he called me to apologize. He said that since I looked so sad, I must have told the truth and he must have told me the other price but forgotten. He offered me 2 days staying for free, but I was already on a boat to the mainland, and wasn’t ready to face any other kind of treachery.
I reached Lamu mainland at around 10am. Lamu is on Somalia – Kenya border, and since the recent war between these two countries, the road from Lamu back has been the main target of Somali terrorists. All vehicles that go through this way have to have at least 2 armed escorts. When I came, I tried to hitchhike but failed since there was no traffic at all. But this time, having already spent more money than I should, I made up my mind that I’d hitchhike back to Mombasa. I got a ride with a jeep to Mokowe, a small town around 5km from the jetty. From there, I walked. There was absolutely no car. There was no moving things on the road apart from occasional monkeys. I found myself in the middle of a jungle. The sun was getting hot, my water was running low and my skin was getting burnt. But I was in a very good mood. I’ve always had a thing for the road, and being on the road again made me happy. I was also kind of looking forward to being back in Mombasa. I played my favorite songs and screamed along on top of my lung. The monkeys stared at me. I walked like that, singing and dancing on my toes, for around 1h until finally I got a ride on the back of a pickup truck. The road was awful, loads of potholes. I tried my best not to get thrown out of the truck. The car stopped in Mpeketoni. I joined the driver for lunch. Here he started asking stupid questions.
- Where are you from?
- Vietnam.
- Do you know history?
- I’m aware of it. Yeah?
- You know about the war with America? How was it?
- What do you mean how was a war? It was a freaking war, of course it wasn’t fun.
- Do you know why you won the war?
- Because we were good.
- No, because you were lucky. The jungle helped you.
Jesus Christ, I hated this kind of conversation. I hate people talking about our war as if they knew it. He then started asking about my trip. I told him that I’m traveling by hitchhiking, but he didn’t answer the word so I said “walking and asking cars for lifts”.
- You must not be serious. People really give you lifts?
- You saw me walking, and you gave me a lift.
- I’m stopping here. How are you going to get from here to Mombasa.
- The same way.
- No, you can’t walk from here. It’s too far.
- Of course I can.
- You are not allowed to. This is not a safe area.
- Who doesn’t allow me to?
- Me.
- Excuse me, I’m the only one who has the right to decide. I walk where I want to.
- You can walk, but you’ll have to sign a paper that if something happens to you, our hands are clear.
- I’m not gonna sign any paper. If you are afraid of responsibility, I’m leaving now.
I got mad. I hate it when people decide what I can do and what I cannot. I’d rather starve than to have to stand that paranoia through the lunch. I stood up and left. That man called the police. A policeman on motorbike approached me when I was walking.
- Excuse me ma’am, can I see your ID?
- No, there is no reason why I should show my ID to a random policeman. It’s not even a checkpoint.
- Ma’am, can you stop for a minute?
- No.
I kept on walking. The guy followed me for like 15mins. Then he parked his bike somewhere, another policeman joined him and they both walked after me. They grabbed my backpack:
- Ma’am, you have to stop. We need to search you.
I took off my backpack and left it to them.
- Take it and keep it safe. I’ll get it later, if anything is missing, you’ll have to pay for it.
So they were carrying my backpack and walking after me while I was shouting at them all the way.
- It’s offensive. You don’t stop random tourists and ask to search them as if they were criminals. I have traveled a long way and I have never been treated like this.
I wasn’t offended. I know I was being an asshole, even though I don’t quite know why. Finally their boss came, and he really stopped me.
- You are under arrest.
So I had to follow them to the police station. There they searched my backpack but I wasn’t very co-operative.
- You take them out, you have to put them back.
There were a dozen of men in their office and none seemed to be working. All of them gathered around and inspected every single item of my backpack. They found a tampon.
- What is it?
- A tampon.
- What is it for? It looks like a candy. – One of them held it up and sniffed it. Oh geez, do I really have to do it, in front of 12 inquisitive African guys?
- It’s for a girl when she has period. I hope you know what “period” means, ‘cos I really don’t want to explain it. – I laughed so hard that I almost fell off the table (I was sitting on a table). – And for God’s sake, stop smelling it.
I was carrying a bag of salt. They found it but probably thought it was heroine or something.
- What is it?
I decided to use it for my own amusement.
- Find it out yourselves.
So they all put their faces close down to the table, sniffed it, touched it but too scared to taste it. Finally, a man gathered all his courage to taste it:
- It’s salty. – He frowned, probably trying to think of any drug he knew that tasted salty. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I burst into laughing.
- Of course it’s salty. It’s salt.
After that came the interrogation which they called “interview”. I told them that I’m from Rainbow island and gave them all kinds of fancy names for whatever they asked and they totally bought it. Finally they were done. But I didn’t want to leave like that. I decided that I’d give them a harder time than they gave me.
- You made me late. I’m gonna be stuck in the middle of nowhere in the dark. You won’t want to be responsible if anything bad happens to me.
- We will put you on a bus.
- Are you going to pay for it as well.
So they put me on a bus and paid for the ticket. I reached Mombasa at around 9pm. In Mombasa, I was staying with a CouchSurfer called Philip. He told me that he and his roommate were cooking dinner and watching fireworks. It was Diwali, the festival of lights in Hinduism and Mombasa is full if Indians. I was too excited when I got the bus that I didn’t notice where I was heading to. I was just thinking to myself: “This road is kind of dark, I should take a matatu” when a group of guys approached me. One of them pushed me down on the ground and held me down with his knife. The others took away the camera bag. I ran after them and shouted. I stripped and twisted my ankle. I lost them. There were a bunch of security men in front of a hotel. I shouted at them in vain.
- What the hell is wrong with you? There are tens of strong men in freaking security uniforms, and a bunch of thieves ran right in front of your nose and none of you stopped them? Not that you didn’t know, I was shouting thief all the way.
- Sorry Ma’am, they have knives.
I felt more vulnerable and lonely than ever. I just sat there in front of the hotel, didn’t know what to do. I was still shocked to walk back alone, and didn’t have money to take a taxi as all my cash was lost with the camera bag. Somebody called the police. They came pick me up and took me to the police station to report. “Shit happens. 2 robbery in 1 week are too much, but at least I’m safe.” – I gathered all my leftover strength to act normal and smile. I hadn’t eaten anything since the morning. All I wanted to do was to get back to Philip’s place, take a good rest for few days to recover then decide what to do next. The police dropped me at Philip’s place at around 11pm. He welcomed me with the worst news ever:
- Kenya is in war with Somalia. The company is pulling us out. We will be evacuated tomorrow.
That means I’ll have to find another place to stay tomorrow. I’m too weak to hit the road again, too tired of this city to stay any longer, and too broke to afford a rest in a hotel.
I feel more lonely and vulnerable than ever.
I’m tired, but can’t sleep. I’m afraid, I won’t be able to face what is to come tomorrow.
