Light and sounds of Nairobi (or more accurately, of the Lavington district of Nairobi)

I’ve always preferred the pictures in my head to the actual ones before me, which is why I much prefer books and radio to television and film. Speaking of which I should have brought my radio with me, the shops here don’t seem to sell radios. But I digress…

I decided to try and reproduce the pictures in my head in this post. I would like you to see /hear Nairobi as I have in the few days I’ve been here. I’m no poet, so apologies if this is rather pedestrian.

I live in a part of Yorkshire that is semi-rural and quiet. The early morning sounds are usually made by a rather pesky bird in my back garden that insists on serenading the dawn each day and fails to appreciate the fact that I prefer silence until I’ve finish my second cup of coffee! We also hear the occasional noisy car or motor bike and very rarely, a police or ambulance siren. What we never hear on a Yorkshire morning is people; Yorkshire folk are not very vocal in the mornings (or any other time of day for that matter, except perhaps, after the pub on a Friday night).

In Lavington Nairobi, I am woken each morning by some very loud and determined grunting (and no, it isn’t the couple in the apartment below, take your mind out of the gutter!). The grunting comes from the basement and upon investigation I discovered a group of women, many of whom (to quote Alexander McCall-Smith http://www.alexandermccallsmith.co.uk/books/no-1-ladies-detective-agency/the-no-1-ladies-detective-agency/), were of a  ‘traditional build’, being urged through a vigorous exercise class by Kenya’s answer to Mr Motivator and emanating grunts that would make any female tennis player proud!

These grunts are punctuated by cheerful exchanges of greeting, ‘Habari’, ‘Nzuri’, between residents and staff and I find myself asking ‘doesn’t anyone sleep in this place?’ By the time they start the second exercise class of the morning, I’ve had my second cup of java and am more appreciative of the dedication that gets these women (and they are all women), out of bed each morning to be tortured by the fitness gestapo. I observed the class briefly and thought it did look like fun, but decided that going up and down the 4 flights of stairs to the penthouse each day constitutes adequate exercise for me. Might join them in the sauna though …

Now a slight diversion but it will make sense, I promise. Bear with me…

I visited Bangladesh for the first time in February and was struck by how familiar Dhaka felt when I stepped out of the airport. The heat, intense afternoon bright sunshine, the traffic noise and the ‘eau de gutter’ were so familiar that I thought, this  could be Lagos Nigeria, and immediately felt at home. Having arrived Nairobi at night, I anticipated the same feeling of familiarity the next morning, I was therefore unprepared for the cool temperature, and despite the occasional whiff of ‘eau de gutter’ on my Sunday morning walk, Nairobi did not feel familiar in the way Dhaka had. 

I had this niggling feeling of a memory that I couldn’t quite recall but not of familiarity. I was rather struck by the strange quality of the light; the sky was grey and overcast as if a rain storm was brewing and the air had this sense of stillness before the heavens open and there was a pinkish haze. Three days later and still no rain; sun a bit brighter and weather a bit warmer. Then on my walk this lunchtime, it hit me; Lavington reminds me of the campus of University of Nigeria Nsukkawhere I started my medical education. Those of you who know UNN will recall the lecturers’ residences of Ikejiani and Margaret Cartwright with the trees, hedges, red dust, narrow tarred roads, the hazy quality of the sun and the cool harmattan breeze. Close your eyes, picture that then add a few hundred cars whose drivers believe that the only rule of the road is survival of the fittest and you have it! Welcome to Lavington Nairobi