CHAPTER 5 - THE GREAT TREK

The mammoth brown and white snake pulled itself up the Great Rift Valley, twisting and curling itself around the slopes, before zigzagging majestically to its' descent. Noisily it rumbled along as it made contact with the hard stony surface beneath. Its' long curvy trail begun to unravel gradually as it shifted from the plateau onto the plains of Africas' virgin wilderness.

The tiny African children, away in the distance, rubbed their huge beautiful eyes with their chubby little hands, jumping up and down in amazement. They squinted, as the the sun shone brightly, not daring to look away for fear of missing even a second of this curious affair. "Who were these strange, pale people entering our land, what were they coming to do, where did they suddenly spring up from and what funny clothes were they wearing?" Elegant Maasai women adorned in jewelry, watched in contemplation and bewilderment. From time to time, they nervously glanced up at their men, sending telepathic messages in need of an answer. The morans stood high with one leg perched against the other, perfectly straight, their long spears held dauntlessly, pointing to the skies, not a muscle twitched. The wind howled fiercely snatching up the land ubiquitously into the air, forcefully hurling the thick ochre smoke towards them. The small clan shut tight their watery eyes and turned away from the dust-clouds; leaving behind a trail laden with footprints that became lighter and softer, until they vanished far beyond the horizon. The hills that once echoed the musical laughter of children, stood somberly alone and naked against the darkened backdrop of the sky.


The land of new opportunities had bared opened its' arms, and the Boer settlers were trekking their way in ox-wagons across the highlands. Nakuru was a rest stop, where they camped for the night before continuing onward to their farmlands. Some had branched off to Solai, Rongai or Subukia, others to Njoro, but most were travelling further to Eldoret, Kitale, Molo, Kericho and other places. Their departure from Nairobi had been significantly delayed as British officials were unable to cope with the over whelming land applications. The settlers had to wait at length, at a makeshift campsite near the edge of Nairobi that acquired the pseudo name of ‘Tentfontein'. Grogan built a house on the very site and much later the area was named Chiromo, as it stands today.




They had driven their ox-wagons from Nairobi, having sailed to Mombasa from South Africa. Some carried only the bare necessities and others came with wooden crates and hard-cased trunks filled with clothing, pots, pans, crockery, bedding and various tools. The train station in Mombasa was bustling with activity. Porters were everywhere, loading the massive wagons together with all the luggage onto the train as families stood around, waiting to board the iron snake. Some of the British government officials supervised the huge task, together with the Boer men who were dressed in safari jackets, trousers, ankle boots and felt-brimmed hats to shade their burnt sun-withered faces; they could be seen removing their hats from time to time, wiping the sweat off their foreheads. Some of the men wore topis, puttees, shorts and boots. Women waited under their umbrellas, assuring their restless children, that soon they would be journeying on the exciting choo-choo train. The women looked identical with their white bonnets that flopped around their faces and banded scarves fashioned neatly around their necks. Their once pristine, puffed-sleeve blouses were showing signs of their voyage, long skirts danced in tune to the breeze as they stood under the hot African sun. Little girls dressed in loose fitted smocks, worn over long sleeved tops, played happily amongst themselves, shielded from the strong sun by their wide brimmed hats. Boys watched the activity with curiosity as they kicked up the dust onto each other, much to their mothers disapproval. Their Dutch and German roots clearly brought a piece of Europe to the African continent. They came in droves to carve the land of Africa that eventually became their homestead. They were true pioneers in the history of Kenya.





Nakuru quickly became an engine changing station for trains that journeyed through, and was also a divisional head quarters. By 1902, it had established a customs post for goods coming in from Uganda. Naivasha remained a headquarter for Ugandas' Eastern Province. Nakuru was officially declared a township in 1904.

Ibrahim by then, knew well the land of Nakuru, Nairobi and some of its'neighboring areas. He made the route so often, he could have walked it blindfolded. All those days spent alone, were not wasted. Being adventurous, he took himself on short expeditions whenever an opportunity arose. At times, his friend, Adamji Noorbhai, came down from Baringo, and they would accompany each other to Nairobi. He had befriended many of the pioneering Europeans, Africans and Asians, and identified closely with everyone. He continued his humanitarian ways, providing randomly to people, either in the way of money or food. 'This', he said, 'kept him close to God and his family and was a reminder of his own circumstances when he first set foot in Africa'. He was quoted to have said, that he found the people of Africa friendly, kind and peaceful, but in the early days, they were timid of the odd looking foreigners, and would take off in the opposite direction.

He had enough capital by this time to invest in a much needed ox-cart transport business. It was the only mode of transport, after the porters and before the railways. He established it gradually, until he had a sufficient number of carts in operation. Employing several local men, he began sourcing his merchandise from Mombasa initially, and consequently branched out to Eldoret, Baringo, Kisumu and other places. The city of Kisumu was formerly called Port Florence and was part of Uganda until 1902, when the border between Kenya and Uganda was adjusted. Lake Victoria is bordered by Uganda and Tanzania, (formerly known as Tanganyika), and is the second largest, fresh water lake in the world.

One of his first European customers was ‘The Rt. Hon. Hugh Cholmondeley’, better known as ‘Lord Delamere’. Lord Delamere was one of the earliest European settlers and one of the Colony's most famous figures. Leaving his vast estate in England with a caravan of 200 camels and 100 porters, he settled on farmland in Njoro initially. By 1903, Lord Delamere owned vast farming lands comprising of sheep, cattle, wheat and maize as well as lumbar and flour mills, he acquired 400 sq kms of land on the lower slopes of the Mau Escarpment, followed by two hundred more at Soysambu, both of which eventually settled some 200 or more English settler families who made Nakuru their country capital. In the end, he owned titles to 145,000 acres of land. Lord Delamere was the leader of the European community, a mentor for the Governors and had been an architect and director in the policy making of Kenya Colony. One of the policies implemented by him, was the governing of Kenya through its' European residents.

Lord Delamere often required building materials and other rations for his vast estates, and frequented Ibrahim from time to time. They struck up a friendship later, and consequently, he became a regular customer. We were told that he had a hot temper, but at the same time, was also compassionate and had helped many people, regardless of race. Delamere was adventurous at heart and known as being accident prone; he was attacked by a lion once and miraculously survived the ordeal. As children, we insisted on hearing the story over and over again, and never tired of it really! The friendship continued through the generations of both families, right until my father, Mohamed Karimbux and Hugh Cholmondeley, 5th Baron Delamere.

We have vivid memories of visiting his home as children and one room in particular stood out from the rest. The room showcased an enormous train track that he had fashioned with meticulous landscaping, it was every child's fantasy and wishful thinking to somehow magically shrink, and be part of the beautiful world he had created. The trains, complete with engines that blew smoke through their funnels, passenger sleeping cars, dining cars fitted out with dining tables covered in white tablecloths, each holding a lamp, freight wagons and trucks and finally the guard's van. At great speed, it ran through tunnels channeled in the many hills and passed by a variety of vegetation, signs, buildings, toy people and other features, it was simply magnificent and was certainly every child's eye candy.




Farmland owned by the early settlers


In the mean time, Ibrahim had made a close friend in a Mr Valji Bhanji, a gentleman who originated from Kutch, India, who arrived in Mombasa in 1898. Initiating his business in Mombasa, he sold matches and tobacco and quickly progressed into successfully running a number of import-export businesses around Kenya and Uganda. In the early 1900's they agreed on a business proposal whereby, Valji provisioned the merchandise and Ibrahim commissioned them.


A few years later, Valji opened a branch of his business in Nakuru on the only main road that ran through it. The shop also served as a rest stop for tired travellers who were given a decent meal and accommodated, at no cost by Ibrahim. Valji himself, lived in a large house named, 'Leven House' located by the stairs of the Old Port in Mombasa. Valji passed away at the age of sixty three years old, after his businesses took an unexpected turn for the worse. Ibrahim had lost his very close and dear friend, a business partner and a gentleman who had become like a brother to him.



Mr Valji Bhanji





Employees outside Mr Valjis shop. Ibrahim seated 3rd from right.



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Ibrahim, seated at the extreme right with Mr Valji Bhanji 2nd from left, some years later

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The land of Kenya would experience a significant shift with this great achievement that took shape and was noted down as an important development in its' history.

Chapter 3 - The White Highlands

CHAPTER THREE





Clicking on the photos will enlarge them








The White Highlands of Kenya

Ibrahim's fascination with the African continent was imprinted in his soul; it was the beginning of a deep love affair with Kenya. Driven by a compelling energy and force that steered his mind into exploring the truth. He was a God fearing individual, who respected the gift of life in all humans and animals, upholding everyone in the same light. Criticism and humiliation of others was not part of his make up. Ibrahim's philosophy of life was simplistic and realistic. He felt that opportunities were born to those who loved and believed in themselves, and accepted who they were and not what society perceived them to be in a materialistic world. He emphasized that everybody had a right to develop themselves by acquiring a broad wealth of knowledge and skills, based on the willingness of making choices. Choices opened windows of opportunity, and opportunity meant moving forward. The step forward brought about change, something achievable only by having gone through a series of rich obstacle courses or stepping stones. He did not spend his time trying to find strategic ways of gaining self importance, this was something he shied away from. Ibrahim’s brain was like a ticking time machine, yet his focus and objectives were cemented from an early age.

Nairobi, at the time was not a place of great importance on the map; it was an austere place of endless swamps and water logged areas, quite impossible to survive on as it was unhealthy and gave rise to mosquitoes. Being aware that with the link of the up coming railway, it would all change. He wished for a solid start to secure his business, and Nairobi somehow did not appeal to him. The present site of Nairobi was selected as a stores depot, a shunting yard, (a place where trains are shifted from one track to another), and later it became a camping ground for the thousands of Indian laborers working on the railway, and a number of British colonials. When Ibrahim first came to Nairobi, it had next to no dwellings, however as years rolled by, there were some tin shacks, tents and structures built of mud.

The British wanted control of the Bugandan Kingdom, (Uganda), particularly because it would open a door to the fertile Buganda plateau that lay immediately north of Lake Victoria, (which was inhabited by three million people already), and had a much greater potential for economic development. Buganda was the most powerful central African regime. Building the Ugandan railway line from Kenya’s coast, Mombasa, to Western Kenya, would therefore enable them to gain control and access to Buganda.

The colonial government invested £6.5 million from English Tax Payers money to build the railway. This did not go without condemnation by the British public. In order to generate revenue for the government and justify the railway cost, Sir Charles Elliot, the Commissioner at the time, decided that Europeans would farm the lands close to the railway. British authorities, one of who was Lord Delamere, hoped these settlers would develop a modern economic sector. The highlands combined a pleasant climate and was thought as good quality land therefore being ideal for growing a variety of cash crops. In 1901, certain highland areas of the East Africa Protectorate were reserved for European settlement only, hence the title, ‘The White Highlands’. Indians were allowed to settle in the low-lying areas near Lake Victoria and along the coastal strip, and the local inhabitants, mainly Kikuyu and Maasai were forced out and relocated on certain reserves.

Originally, the people of Kenya came from three different groups; Bantu, Nilotes and Cushites. Nomadic Cushitic tribes from Ethiopia made their way onto Kenyan soil back near 2000 BC, and were actually the first group of people to arrive in Kenya. A second group followed around 1000 BC and occupied much of central Kenya. The rest of the ancestors of the country's medley of tribes arrived from all over the continent between 500 BC and AD 500. The Bantu-speaking people (such as the Gusii, Kikuyu, Akamba and Meru) arrived from West Africa while the Nilotic speakers (Maasai, Luo, Samburu and Turkana) came from the Nile Valley in southern Sudan, with the Luo and Maasai tribes settling around the rift valley region, although later the Luo settled around Lake Victoria. With the arrival of the Bantu and Nilotes, the Cushites were dispersed into different parts of the country. Many of them lived in semi arid and arid areas of the country. Unlike the Bantu, they do not farm at all. They are cattle herders instead. Most of their tribes include Borana, Burji, El Molo, Orma, Somali and Rendile.

Ibrahim did not have a doubt in his mind that Nairobi, in good time, would be an ideal business location, but his mind projected to Nakuru. Foreseeing that inevitably it would develop into a strong central business area, he felt compelled to start his new life there. Some of the Europeans, mainly Boers from South African, had already settled in the highlands, and others were continuing to migrate in caravan loads. Indians, British, Jews, Greeks, Germans and Italians would also follow in the near future. Ibrahim sensed a great magnetism towards Nakuru, it most definitely felt right for him. Nakuru's future expansion would demand building materials, construction tools and other necessary supplies. However, he was met with the realization that he had no capital and needed to figure out a worthy and feasible business plan.

He approached a few of the traders with his proposition, issuing a bold statement by offering to market some of their supplies, on a commission bases in Nakuru. He assured them that it would, undoubtedly promote their business prospects. Not everyone took kindly to his suggestion, but the few that did, could see valuable insight in the man. Their business returns were very slow and unpredictable as it had been an uphill struggle for most. By turning over their merchandise, unquestionably it could only help to improve their profit margin.

Having his supplies at hand, in addition to a couple of notebooks, one for accounting purposes, and another as a small diary, some tinned food, sugar, tea, a few medical supplies, and a ration of drinking water, he proceeded to prepare his donkey for the journey. Feeling very isolated and a little apprehensive, he prayed before heading out. He thought of his family in India, wondering how they were, as he had not sent any word back to them, he prayed for their safety too.

Having had a late start from Nairobi, he left without further delay, heading north. The onset of his journey took him through Fort Smith, named after Captain Eric Smith who ran his station from there, (It is presently called Kikuyu). European traders were already established there, one lady, of Irish decent, called Mary Walsh, was only too well known for her hot temperament. A red-haired woman whose choice of weapon was a whip that she liberally used with great force, should anyone happen to cross her path. She sent many a man hollering, rubbing their buttocks and vowing never to challenge her again. Ibrahim had heard stories about her, saying she had earned herself the title 'Bibi Kiboko', a Swahili word meaning, a stick intended for purposes of caning. At the same time, a Dr Boedeker and his wife, who had travelled from Scotland, were also known to early pioneers as being one of the first Europeans to have settled in the rift valley area. The Boedekers built a house in Naivasha that, at a later stage, became the famous half way point for travellers, when it was turned into a famous restaurant and bar called the 'Bell Inn'. Delicious home made meals, breads and pastries could be found there, the best known in the whole of the country. Mrs Boedeker had a reputation for being an extremely hardworking, enterprising and worthy lady.

Ibrahim's journey led him to a rolling green countryside resembling an idyllic English country scene with its rich green foliage and tiny hills, it was absolutely picturesque. Continuing on in the interior, he entered a dark dense forest of towering cyprus trees, the ground beneath was soft and swampy. On either side of him, endless labyrinths ran in and out of the spaces between the trees, eerily not a single ray of light was visible when he looked through. The cold chilly air hit him in an unfriendly manner, enveloping his whole body before penetrating through to his bones. His body crawled in goose bumps, and he felt every hair pricking from underneath his clothing, an icy shiver ran up his spine before he drew his coat tightly around him. With one hand leading the donkey, he quickened his pace to generate body heat. Fascinated again at the remarkable contrast of this journey to the last, he never imagined so many geographical changes taking place at such short intervals. He was still in danger of leopards, lions, rhino and jackals that roamed freely in the area.

The light changed and suddenly the forest came to life with a lively chorus of birds, chirping frantically from their nests, beckoning to their mates. As the sun floated down, hues of fiery crimson and amber painted the sky, catching the forest with it's warm glow. Breaking his journey for the night, Ibrahim led his donkey to a small stream nearby before preparing a fire. As he lay exhausted on his woven mat, the dark canopy looked down upon him, dazzling him with clusters of jewels sweeping through the heavens.

At the first break of light, Ibrahim rose and after praying, he breakfasted on a tin of fruit, before departing the boundaries of Kijabe, (a place meaning ‘windy place’, in Maa), heading towards the crude and jagged plateau of the Rift Valley Escarpment.

The highlands lie above 1,200 metres in altitude and the plateau is cut north and south by a huge gash, which is the formation of what is called The Great Rift Valley; a formation that is one of the dominating features of Kenya, it is simply breath taking. Africa's Great Rift Valley is a 1,400-metre fissure in the earth's crust, stretching from Lebanon to Mozambique. One of its most dramatic sections slices through East Africa, dividing Kenya into two segments; the Mau Escarpment to the west and the Aberdare Range to the east. The valley itself is 50 to 130 km wide, and its floor rises from about 450 metres in the north around Lake Turkana (previously called Lake Rudolf) to over 2,100 metres at Lake Naivasha where it begins to descend. A chain of shallow lakes separated by extinct volcanoes occupies the floor of the Rift Valley. Lake Naivasha is the largest of these; the others include Lakes Elementaita, Nakuru, Bogoria, Baringo and Magadi. The Rift Valley was formed when violent subterranean forces split the earth's crust. These forces caused huge chunks of the crust to sink between parallel fault lines, which in turn, forced up molten rock in volcanic eruptions, a process termed as rifting.






No sooner had Ibrahim entered the escarpment, he was stunned by what lay in front of him. His eyes soaked in the most powerful sight he had seen. It felt as if the ground had escaped from under him and the scenery had taken a huge plunge to the bottom of the earth. The abundant plain stretched itself generously beyond the horizon. Tinges of deep emerald and mottled browns and ochre splashed across nature’s lush carpet. Mesmerized, Ibrahim stood silently for a few moments trying to take in everything. An intense emotion crept through him, touching his soul deeply, he had seen a piece of heaven on earth, and wanted badly to share this beautiful moment with his wife.







The escarpment brought with it many physical and mental challenges, for some it was intimidating and threatening and their journey came to end there. The ground was dangerously steep and covered with rocks and thick vegetation that obstructed the way. He had to chop his way through the wilderness that lay untouched. Following the famous footsteps of the many explorers, missionaries and travellers before him, he sensed an appreciation towards their treacherous and life threatening mission, and admired their courage and enthusiasm. Ibrahim had relieved the donkey of some of its' load, as it was not accustomed to such precarious pathways. Higher up, loose boulders sometimes came crashing down on top of travellers, and at certain points, the track gave little room. The descent down posed many risks, being more vertically inclined, it required extreme caution and concentration to maneuver oneself safely across.





Italian prisoners of war built the Nakuru, Nairobi highway at a later stage. Tucked away in the corner of the escarpment was a quaint and most beautiful church. As a child, driving passed it, I would inform my father that I would get married there!





Ibrahim looked beyond to where Mt Longonot lay most splendidly on the rift valley floor. A volcanic mountain originally named ‘Oloonongo’t’ by the Maasai, meaning mountain of many spurs, rising up to 2,776 metres and bearing beautiful V-shaped valleys and ridges covered in forest. The surrounding land was a result of the rifting. It stood there towering over the Ol Karia hills.









Not far off in the distance, the shimmering waters of Lake Naivasha glistened as the sun reflected of its' surface. The beautiful freshwater lake, fringed by thick papyrus lay on the floor of the valley. Between 1937 and 1950 the lake was used as a landing place for plane passengers destined for Nairobi, who would then board a bus to Nairobi. Being that the lake holds freshwater, the surrounding soil is very fertile, and many of the early settlers farmed mainly fruit and vegetables around the shores. It was christened Lake Nai’posha by the Maasai, meaning rough water. (The British actually misspelt the name, as they did with other names, although sometimes, it was changed because of pronunciation difficulties).








Ibrahim took a moment to observe the feathery acacia trees with their wide spreading branches and flat tops. (Also called yellow fever trees, because early explorers and colonialists who usually slept near the trees broke out in a fever; and presumed that the trees were to blame, when in fact, it was malaria). He feasted his eyes on a great number of giraffe chewing the foliage, camouflaged perfectly amongst the light and shade of the branches. Black and white colobus monkeys swung energetically from branch to branch, their whisk-like tails sweeping through the air as they flung themselves with such unerring precision. A choir of hippos grunted abrasively sending him swift messages that he should not linger around longer than necessary.




He crossed paths with a group of English travellers who had thirty to fifty porters, heavily burdened with loads of ivory, hides, guns and food. Their donkeys trailed behind carrying water, and the remainder were ridden by a couple of men. They stopped and chatted, exchanging notes of their journey. The caravan of travellers were heading off to the next camp site. Camp sites were positioned along some routes, as were stations or forts. In total, 35 stations were located between Mombasa and Uganda, but these were open only to officials and European travellers.

Tribal warfares were many, and people were advised to respect any local tribesmen that they happened to come across. Ibrahim did encounter a few groups of local people, but they seemed unaffected by his presence.

Tiring greatly, he stopped to rest and enjoy the land. A small range of deep purple hills jutted out prominently against the sky line, forming a silhouette resembling a man's rested head that clearly projected an exaggerated long nose; it popularly adapted the title of,'Delamere's Nose.'



On reaching Gilgil, he met another group of people travelling to Nakuru; they were Indian transporters, who invited Ibrahim to join them for the last leg of the journey.
During World War One, in March 1947, the British set up an internment camp for Jewish prisoners of war who were members of the Irgun and Lehi Jewish underground organizations that had been deported from Palestine. The ‘Happy Valley’ set also lived in Gilgil, just north of Lake Naivasha. The elite social group became notorious for scandals of drug use and promiscuous sexual encounters.


Walking away from Gilgil, Lake Elementaita, a soda lake, (named ‘Muteita’ by the Maasai, another variation to its' spelling is Elementeita), lay in the eastern limb of East Africa's Great Rift Valley, about 120 km northwest of Nairobi. The lake was filled with flamingoes, Great White Pelicans and Great Crested Grebes. They viewed a variety of game from zebra, gazelle, eland and families of warthog that were abundant. Finally, they proceeded to Nakuru, thoroughly shattered, but looking forward to a journey's end.








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Dedicated to my Father and Mother

DEDICATED TO MY FATHER AND MOTHER

T H E H O U S E T H A T S T O O D S T I L L



I begin the story from where I remember, before going back to where it all started..........


My Father was the ‘glue’ of the family, he was the chain that kept us together. Life with him was secure, exciting, warm and comforting. He had an aura that was so strong, his presence was felt the moment he set foot in a room. And when he did, the room froze, and all eyes gave him their divided attention. Strange as it may sound, he had that effect. He was an intelligent man, humble by nature, with a charm that was irresistible. Taller than average he was strikingly handsome, and to the joy of the ladies, very eligible. When he married, it was to the woman of his choice, an equally incredible woman, and the power of their love could clearly be felt any where they went.


Born in 1932 in Nakuru, he was a premature baby, and adopted the name of ‘Cotton wool baby.' Every night, after his bath my grandmother carefully wrapped a cotton wool blanket cut from the roll, to keep his tiny and frail little body warm. They named him Mohamed. It was believed by the community that to name him after the Prophet was a bad omen, but the family dismissed any superstition, blessing him with the name of their liking.

Mohamed Karimbux grew up to be an extremely compassionate man, with intense feelings and sensitivity to people around him, and to his environment. A curious and inquisitive man by far, it opened his mind to the wide world, loving the diversity in culture, music, architecture and the arts. Giving his attention to the strategic development of the family's businesses, he maintained and vastly improved the industries and commercial interests with high margin profits and maximum capacity. His self reliant personality together with his determination, hard work and devotion made him a highly respected figure with in the business society and the people of Nakuru. Mischievous at times, and a gifted humorist, he was a true example of a leader and a the best example of a father figure.

My mother, Aziza, (nee Sadiq) was a highly admired woman in Nakuru. She had poise and elegance that other women would envy and later imitate, but none of them were quite a match for her. Always immaculately dressed, from head to toe, her grooming was sophisticated, and her mannerism appealingly dignified and charming. She was a natural. As children, we would look forward to dressing up in her clothes and trying on her shoes and accessories at any given chance. Her wardrobe stretched half way down the room. Continuous lines of clothes hung above the lower shelves filled with a rainbow of multiple styles of handbags and shoes that we could never keep count of, as it was continuously up-dated to follow the ever changing fashion trends.

My parent’s marriage was perfect, in fact, so perfect, that it was too good to be true. Theirs was a marriage made in heaven. They loved each other immensely, and enjoyed their time together with equal trust, respect and support for each other. She was his angel, he was her prince, and together they made a fairy tale come true. Nothing could separate them, their eyes told it all, and they were the envy of most couples around them, yet to others, a perfect example of a union that was genuine, and quite rare.

Arranged marriages were compulsory, and these were strictly adhered to. Children were brought up with this tradition instilled firmly in them, and there was no exceptions to the rule . My mother, unbeknown to her, was engaged to a total stranger at the time of her birth and had no idea that this arrangement had taken place between her parents and the boy's parents. This sort of arrangement was a fairly common practice back then.

The first time my father set eyes on my mother, his mind was made up to marry her, he fell deeply in love with her, and the feeling was mutual. The love was instantly magnetic and they were determined to be together for the rest of their lives. Only they had the first hurdle to face and it was to be one of their first and most challenging experiences to encounter as a young couple in love. Aziza's parents refused to surrender to their pleas, as they felt they would be discredited for not keeping their word of honor or fulfilling their side of the bargain. It would bring shame and humiliation to the family. After months of pleading, many tears and bargaining, Aziza's parents finally gave in, it was something they never regretted for the rest of their lives.

The marriage took place in Nairobi, and my mother was taken on a 100-mile journey across the escarpment to the little town of Nakuru. He honored her, she cherished him, he treasured her, she valued him, he showered her with love, she reciprocated, he bought her the best, and she brought out the best in him. They were perfectly compatible, but life and nature do not go along with this theory. Nature is cruel, and is not a replica of a fairy-tale ending, as much as we dream and hope for it to be so.

THE HOUSE THAT STOOD © SHAILLA MATLOCK-KARIMBUX 2010

PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR


I AM THE FOURTH GENERATION OF THE KARIMBUX FAMILY. THE KARIMBUX’S WERE ONE OF THE FIRST PIONEERS AMONGST MANY OTHER ASIAN FAMILIES TO HAVE SETTLED IN KENYA IN 1895. THEY MADE A GREAT NAME FOR THEMSELVES AND HAD A HISTORY THAT GOES BACK A LONG WAY.

THE BOOK HAS NOT BEEN WRITTEN WITH INTENTION TO RECORD A HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF KENYA, AS THERE IS NO SHORTAGE OF LITERATURE REGARDING THAT.

AS A YOUNG CHILD, I HAD A STRONG URGE TO WRITE ABOUT MY FAMILY. NOT ONLY WERE THEY HEROES IN MY MIND, BUT THEY WERE TRULY DEDICATED TO KENYA, AND CONTRIBUTED TREMENDOUSLY TO THE COUNTRY AND THE COMMUNITY. OUR FAMILY HISTORY DID NOT COME EASY, MY FOREFATHERS WORKED TIRELESSLY TO BUILD THE KARIMBUX DYNASTY IN THE DAYS OF COLONIALISM.

MY GREAT GRANDFATHER, SETH IBRAHIM KARIMBUX WAS A COURAGEOUS AND RIGHTEOUS MAN. HE WAS A SELF-MADE GENTLEMAN WHO EARNED HIS RESPECT AND POPULARITY AMONGST THE CITIZENS OF NAKURU AND ITS' NEIGHBOURING TOWNS. HIS TWO SONS, UMARDIN AND YUSUF KARIMBUX FOLLOWED CLOSELY IN IBRAHIM'S FOOTSTEPS, AS DID MY FATHER, MOHAMED KARIMBUX AND MY UNCLE, YAKUB KARIMBUX.

THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLD ARE TRUE TO MY WORD AND ARE BASED ON FACTUAL EVENTS THAT CHARACTERIZED AND SHAPED A FAMILY.


READ ON AS THE TRUE STORY OF A MAN WHO CAME TO AFRICA IN 1896, UNFOLDS TO REVEAL A REMARKABLE STORY OF GENERATIONS, THAT WAS STARTED BY A BRAVE PENNILESS MAN.

IT HAS BEEN A SHEER JOY WRITING THE BOOK AND I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOY IT JUST AS MUCH.

THE NAMES OF SOME CHARACTERS AND PLACES COULD BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THEIR IDENTITY. THEY HAVE BEEN MARKED WITH AN ASTRIX.

SHAILLA MATLOCK-KARIMBUX




DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to all the brave men and women, regardless of religion, cast, breed or culture who worked unselfishly and tirelessly in our great Country, Kenya. They gave us life and made us what we are today. I admire their strength, courage and fortitude, they were invaluable and contributed immensely to their families, country and society. Above all, their determination, ambition and commitment earned them respect and honor. These are the people who made a difference, they touched the souls of their families, friends, strangers and an entire Nation.

For my Father, you came as an angel, a guiding light, spreading afar your love, kindness, humanity, faith and wisdom. You remain an angel and a great mentor to me, always in my heart forever.

For my loved ones who have passed on, and whom I dearly love. They are with me in heart,spirit and mind.
Ibrahim Karimbux, Umardin Karimbux, Yusuf Karimbux, Mohamed Karimbux, Yakub Karimbux, Karmi Karimbux, Kalsoom Karimbux, Kharunisa Karimbux, Tehsin Karimbux, Talib Karimbux, Fatama Alam, Razia Swaria, Shamim Chaudry, Idris Chaudry, Sultana Gaffoor, Zubeda Karimbux, Hazra Saayid
You are the jewels sent down from heaven, the diamonds in the night sky, the beams of sunshine that light our way. You are precious gifts from God and we miss you all dearly.

I also dedicate this book to my immediate family, who have inspired me and encouraged me to follow my dreams

To my husband Chris Matlock, you are everything to me and much, much more. Thank you for standing by me and valuing the same passion of honoring one's family. Your love, support, faith and ideals mean everything to me. Thank you for reading the book and assisting me with ideas, you are my inspiration, soul mate and true love.

To my son, Aden Jones, who is my life and joy. Thank you for standing by me and giving me so much of yourself in kindness, support, understanding and love; without you I would not have had the motivation to finish this book. You are a most wonderful son who we love and cherish.

My Mother, Aziza Karimbux, for being such a special mother, grandmother, wife and
friend with so much love, kindness and compassion. Thank you for your continuous support and faith in me, you are a blessing and an extraordinary person. I love you so much. The love between dad and you was heavenly; it was a blessing and a beautiful gift from God that was truly pure and tender. You may have alzheimers now but you are still our very beautiful mother to us and we love you ever more. May God bless you always with eternal peace and love.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I have known Shailla for many years. She approached me initially with the idea of her book in 2002, and asked me to write an introductory page, though I chose to remain anonymous.

When Shailla talked about her sentiments in writing a book dedicated to 'The memory of keeping her great-grandfather, Ibrahim's name alive', I listened with intrigue and excitement. She emphasized her aim was not to make money, but to satisfy a deep hunger of a vision she kept locked up for many years. 'It has always been a strong desire of mine to preserve and share the memories of my forefathers, and to pass their story down to the newer generations of our family, and also to our beautiful friends, so they too can appreciate the family roots; if I don't, then who will?'. She pointed out that, 'Not one book had been dedicated solely to a Punjabi Muslim pioneer, yet there are variable and excellent books written about notable African, European and Asian figures from other communities. 'I owe this to my family as a tribute for selflessly giving their life, love and hard work to us and so many others, I would not be where I am today, had it not been for them', I quote.

Shailla's quest initially begun in 2001 when she started tracing her family's history. She collected information through archives, articles, diaries, letters, documents and family members. In 2002-2003, she approached as many of her father's and grandfather's close family friends who lived in and around Nairobi, arranging to interview them and their families. With pen and notebook in hand, she took down meticulous notes, and completed the interviews equipped with thoughtful and relevant questions. I, for one was interviewed and had the honor of contributing to a noble and worthy idea.

Shailla completed a draft of her book on her return from South Africa in 2004, I had the pleasure of reading a beautifully written book, and thank her for inspiring myself and others in doing so.

THROUGH MY EYES............

I chose to write this book in a simplistic style and 'through my eyes'. The book has been subdivided into four sections.

Book One - The First Generation
Book Two - The Second Generation
Book Three - The Third Generation
Book Four - The Fourth Generation.