Day 2 and we jump in the car as the sun is rising. Saga is wild with excitement as always.
The driver takes us down the red dirt roads, across bushy hills and around river banks. We find a mama lion with her cubs waking up in the glowing savanna.
More giant elephant herds with babies, swimming in the river.
More bumpy roads and leopards climbing rock, giraffes in the bushes and all the other animals inhabiting the african fauna.
By lunchtime we head back to the camp for brunch.
The baboons steal our bread and run up the tree while others munch on our spilt rice.
The crocodiles also come and join watching us eat. After brunch one of the park guards come and get us to take us out to his village.
An hours drive later we arrive at the village just by the border of the reserve.
The girls of the village greets us.
The head men of the village tells us about how they wanted to stop the circumcision of girls and instead send them to school. It gets me hopeful, but I’ve also heard the same story since I first moved to Africa. Confirmation of my suspicion comes five minutes later when they excitedly tells us about the big feast they were having tonight to celebrate that an eleven year old girl was circumcised last night. ELEVEN. I can’t even imagine.
It brings me back to the time when I lived in Nairobi and we had an exchange program with a Masaai village in 2007. We went to their school for two days and they went to ours. All circumcised and married at 16 to somebody their parents picked, and during chemistry in the concrete school the teacher smacked a girl with a stick because she was giggling.
But wow, these girls are our heroes, living through such a fucking oppression. THEY should write books teaching us things about being strong, and they should probably run these countries too. Like the women in Rwanda who make up two thirds of the parliament, as well as the women in Malawi, Senegal and Liberia who have taken over.
They show us the kindergarten of the village.
Shoes made out of tires, which was the original inspiration/version of these.
They continue taking us around, lecturing us about the traditions and history of the Samburu tribe.
After an hour we say thank you and bye.
The ride back is quiet, thoughtful. It’s weird and good when your bubble bursts.
The sun starts setting and we get the food and the fire going.
Palek Paneer on plastic plates which a Genet Cat steals from us while we were having dinner. With chai tea in mugs we sit down by the fire on the river bank, seeing the world turn dark and the stars climbing over the sky once again.
When the darkness is so compact that we can’t see more than a couple of meters ahead we get worried about wild animals and climb in to the protection of the canvas tent, falling asleep to the crackle of the fire and cicadas singing.