Road Less Travelled.

Some time ago, I wrote about the need to hawk our talents. Putting our gifts and abilities out there may lead to surprising outcomes. They are like tomatoes on a roadside stand, bought by passersby. If we hide our tomatoes in the pantry, they will rot unseen. Around last August, my photography pal Shiro notified me of a photo competition highlighting the Nairobi National Park. I submitted an entry and shared a photo.

Then, mid-November, I got a call inviting me to the award ceremony at Social House here in Nairobi. I thought it was an invitation to all the participants to witness the winners being recognised. To my surprise, I had not just been shortlisted, but my photo captioned Urban Cats was the winner in the conflict and coexistence category. It was a photo of four subadult lions walking by the side of the road in the blistering afternoon sun with huge Nairobi mjengos in the background. It was my second award in a wildlife photography contest.

My prize was a voucher to the Shompole Wilderness in Magadi for two nights. I’d never heard of it, but I was eager, especially when I found out that they have a hide facing a watering hole where you can see the animals up close. You can then take photos of them from ground level while seated (more like hidden) in a shipping container that’s been modified into a bunker of sorts and partially sunk into the ground.

I was thrilled by this rare and unexpected opportunity and started coordinating with the management of Shompole from then on. Last week, it all came together, and I set out on Saturday morning. The anticipation was in the air as I wound along the scenic (but rough) Magadi Road. It was a hot drive as temperatures rose to 35 degrees. We are often advised to take the road less travelled. This was a real-life practical on that. I got to the Magadi salt factory at around midday after shaking off some aggressive local guides on the road who wanted to take me on a tour with them by force.

I drove through the factory and then onto a dirt road for about thirty-five kilometres. It turned out that I needed a guide after all, because at some point, the only road is the one you forge. Samantha from Shompole directed that I stop once I get to a sign reading Ewaso Lodge, and someone will meet me there to guide me to the camp. A boda guy named Wycliffe appeared from the dust at the same time I arrived. I have confidence in my Subaru, but the fine loam soil that was like quicksand tested it. At some point, we abandoned Wycliffe’s boda and continued the rest of the way in my car. His bike just died on him, so we left it under a tree and passed by a nearby boma for him to send someone to push the bike to safety. Despite the struggle, we made it to camp, and that was the beginning of a wild and wonderful experience.

I was warmly received by the family that runs Shompole, ushered into my tent to freshen up and get ready to do the business that took me there. A few other photographers and I then met at the reception by the Ewaso Nyiro River for a briefing and introduction to our guide for the night, Nixon. We had our gear and supplies ready, which Nixon and a few other Maasai young men carried. I thought we were getting into a vehicle to go to the hide straight from camp. Kumbe, we were walking some distance to the river.

After a much-welcomed cooling walk under tree canopies, we arrived at the river’s edge. Our transport across the brown, slow-flowing river was a simple aluminium boat that ran along a rope tied from one bank to the other. We climbed in and sat while Nixon remained standing in the middle, pulling us across hand over hand. No motor or oars, just Nixon’s hands. I was quite amused at this and took a video to send to my family of accomplished swimmers. They all retorted that I should finally learn how to swim in case of situations like this. Anyway, we did get onto dry ground safely, so my swimming lesson will be postponed, wacha we piga picha first hehe.

A Land Cruiser was waiting for us on the other side. We jumped in, and Nixon drove us through some thickets. It felt like we were going around in circles until the hide suddenly appeared. Getting from one place to another in this wilderness is worse than going through a maze. It’s more a case of ‘if you know, you know’. I think if you used Google Maps, you might find yourself in Tanzania, hehe. The hide was exactly as I had seen it on the internet. Half of it was like a bar with a counter and windows facing the watering hole. The other half was a rest area with three bunk beds, a toilet and a mini-kitchen consisting of a meko and a counter stocked with salt, Tabasco and a few other basic items.

We sat on the high stools (which felt like being at Kengeles—the bush version, hehe) and positioned our cameras on beanbags, ready for nature’s action movie to begin. As I sat there, I had to pinch myself. I couldn’t believe that my photography had earned me an opportunity to sit in a hole in the ground for an experience I never even imagined. Folks, sometimes when we put our tomatoes (gifts, talents and passions) out there, they earn us answers to prayers we have yet to pray.

I imagined what it would cost to experience this, yet there I was, for the price of fueling my Subaru and buying a few Tusker Lites. All I had to do was wait for the animals to join me for a drink. Then I find out that even the Tuskers were provided in the hide! What more can a guy ask for? I was delighted. My happiness index spiked that weekend.

Proverbs 18:16 says: “A man’s gift makes room for him and brings him before great men.” Maybe I should add that a man’s gift can also bring him before great animals. Unlike at the Mara, where we drive for miles searching for that elusive shot, this was the first time I was stationary for many hours waiting for the animals to come to me.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude, but it also scared me to think about how much we miss in life by failing to show the world what we are made of and what we can do. Folks, who we are is God’s gift to us; what we do and become is our gift to Him. Refuse to be caged by fear or any other excuse you give yourself. The life you desire is on the other side of that fear and hesitation. You just have to start.

I suspected my Shompole experience wouldn’t fit into one post, so allow me to leave you in suspense like those soaps we used to watch growing up, and you had to wait a week for the next episode. No wonder many of my midlife peers don’t struggle with delayed gratification. It was forced on us, hehe. That’s exactly what you will have to do, but I think it will be worth the wait, especially when I tell you about our encounter with a huge bull elephant named Grumpy… It was a grumpy experience!

See you next Friday, and remember to take the road less travelled, or better still, make your own road like I did with my moti. With Wycliffe’s help, of course.