I dreamed of Africa too
Many years ago, a colleague left me a farewell letter and a book in my mail box at our NGO’s head office. I started reading I dreamed of Africa that night in Lusaka. I continued reading it in the Copperbelt, where we had stopped overnight for some reason. I can remember reading it in the 80s style, ‘avocado’ bath in the hotel, with tears pouring down my face. I went on to finish it at our home in N.W province. I’ve read the book many times since. And it’s the only book I have ever read and re-read in my life.
Kuki Gallmann’s story is similar and different to ours. She too was not born in Africa but adopted an African country, Kenya, as her home; An Italian at home in Africa. She left Europe in her late twenties. I found myself relating to her words time and time again. She spoke of her life in Kenya as being a privilege, something that I’ve struggled to articulate as clearly to others. She detailed the positives, that so many in my life could not understand.
While working in Japan, UAE and Indonesia, I longed to be back in Southern Africa. I dreamed of Africa too. Re-reading the book gave me something every time that I read it. And I never lost hope that we would be able to build a life here. Years passed. I watched as Kuki continued with pioneering conservation efforts. I read her short stories.
When we accepted jobs in Kenya, one of my first thoughts was of Kuki and Ol Ari Nyiro ranch. I hoped so much that we could go there. And towards the end of our two years, while attending a friends birthday party, we shared the news that we would be moving on to new jobs in Indonesia. Two friends asked us to form our ‘leaving Kenya bucket list’.
They made it happen. Bookings were made. We were going to Laikipia.
I sent an e mail to Kuki and made a polite request to meet. As I hit ‘send’, I wondered how many people asked to meet her. I didn’t really expect a reply. At most, I though she might appear during our stay and indulge me with an autograph.
But she did reply. Kuki asked about the film production programme that I was developing for students in Nairobi. And we identified ways that we might work together.
Some weeks later we set off for Laikipa. The journey, though less than 300 kilometres from Nairobi, was gruelling. Our dear friend drove into the night and then some more. It was one of those journeys in Africa, a total odyssey. Just when you think you are there, there’s always another 50 kilometers to go.
At dusk, we reached the gates of Kuki’s ranch, Ol Ari Nyiro. It is located in the west of Laikipia, overlooking beautiful Lake Baringo and on the edge of the Great Rift Valley.
We parked the car and were transferred to the lodge. By the time that we reached our ‘cottage’, it was already dark. We all retreated promptly, exhausted.
The next day we woke up to the view, the Mukutan Gorge that I had read about so many times and pictured in my mind. We went swimming in a rockpool and watched baboons across the river. I remembered the snakes in Kuki’s novel, her son, Emmanuel, and I thought, he must have caught some here. And this must have been where they were released, later.
There were ornamental snakes dotted about the place. And I remembered the words of Kuki’s poem for Emmanuel
“I will look for you always
and I will see you in every flower,
in every bird, in every red sunset,
in every crawling snake…”
Kuki Gallmann: I dreamed of Africa
In the late afternoon, we were taken on a game drive across this vast, stunningly beautiful land, 100,000 acres of wild. All of it is part of the conservancy. We sipped sundowners and listened to the sounds of the bush. Anyone could understand why Kuki loves it there so much, why we all loved being out in nature in beautiful Kenya. It takes original thinking to live an authentic life, not a prescribed one. I’m impressed by anyone who give their lives to working in conservation. They don’t pursue power or promotion. Their goal is to preserve and protect nature and our environment.
We returned to our chalets at Makutan Gorge for dinner. And we were informed that Kuki would be calling over. I had spent years admiring Kuki Gallmann; her tenacity, her commitment to the conservation of Kenya’s wildlife, her resilience after the loss of her husband and her teenage son and her passion for her life in Africa. Now we were going to meet her.
Kuki floated in. After greetings all round, I thought she would leave. But she told our waiter that she would be joining us for dinner and sat herself next to me at the dinner table.
The wine and conversation flowed. Kuki seemed genuinely interested in all of us, four expats who had also made Kenya home, though not for as long.
Kuki spoke of Emmanuel. She enthused about the Laikipia Highlands Games, which happen annually. She said we should come back for them. I looked over at my husband and did a quick calculation. Emmanuel would have been around the same age if he had survived. He had died at the young age of 17.
After dinner we all adjourned to an open fire where our chats continued and we indulged in after dinner liquers. It was one of my most memorable nights in Kenya.
Almost two years later, this beautiful lodge where we had shared this special dinner and meeting was burned down. Arson. In drought-stricken Laikipia, it was suspected that herders who have been invading private property in search of fresh grazing, had attacked the property.
Just over a year later, in May 2017, Kuki was shot and seriously injured on her ranch. The attack highlights the danger of standing up for conservation. Kuki survived and after treatment and rest at her home near Nairobi, she returned to Ol Ari Nyiro. She is a truly extraordinary woman.
Have you heard of Kuki Gallmann?
What did you think of the book ‘I dreamed of Africa’?
Would you recommend any similar books, by other conservationists or individuals who have lived extraordinary lives?
© Maggie M / Mother City Time