Agreeing to the request to voluntarily run a health clinic in Kenya’s Northern Frontier District had seemed so straightforward and simple, on that beautiful Swedish farm the previous year.  However, doing it entailed a much more convoluted journey than I had expected.

When I arrived in Kenya in September in 1985, I had understood that I would be going fairly directly to work up north in the clinic. This however was not the case. Amongst other things, I discovered that even to volunteer in Kenya I would need a work permit, which became complicated. In fact, everything turned out to be far more complex than I had anticipated. Fortunately, from the time I arrived into Nairobi airport, Annie and David Bristow generously opened their home to me. Annie, an old school friend of my mother’s, became like a second mother and dear friend. So despite the extraordinary delays, uncertainties and confusion, I very much enjoyed my time there.  Realizing how little I knew about the Samburu people, and therefore how inadequate my health care interventions could be, I took advantage of an opportunity to live with a Samburu family in their remote “ngang” to learn about their culture, living conditions, life style, health challenges and to communicate in their language.

The African Rainbow

By early May, I had finished my official nursing orientation in the Wamba Missionary Hospital and thinking that I had crossed my last real hurdle, I was eager to start nursing in the Lesirikan clinic. I returned to Nairobi expecting to find my papers in order but was instead informed that though my work permit was being processed, everything took time, and it might not be ready for another few months. The Immigration officials had warned me the last time they had renewed my visitor’s visa, that another request would be refused. Having already been granted the maximum extensions that they normally allowed, my latest visa was due to expire before the end of the month. The fact that my work permit was being processed would have no bearing on my visa status – I would not be given another extension. Not only that, I would have to remain outside the country for a minimum of three months before I would be permitted to re-enter Kenya. Where would I go, and what would I do during those months in exile, on my fast dwindling funds?! I was longing to work and did not want a holiday, but also lacked the funds to travel or reside somewhere else for so long. Having discussed with many who knew the situation, and after reviewing all the options for the umpteenth time, it all seemed beyond my capacity to find any solution. I knew that continuing to fret was like banging my head against a wall, so decided to ask/pray for help and surrender to whatever was supposed to happen. Maybe I had grown so attached to the idea that I was forcing something that was just not meant to be. I had to let go of it and allow the universe to unfold the way it was meant to. Where and what was the proverbial door that could open to new possibilities?

My friend, Mary Anne (M.A.) was just leaving Nairobi, as she often did, on a mission for her newspaper and invited me to stay in her house while she was away. M.A.’s home was sometimes a drop-in centre for international, as well as Maasai and Samburu friends who came to visit Nairobi. When I arrived at her house, I found that another of her friends had also just arrived to stay. She introduced herself as Mirella Ricciardi. That name sounded familiar and during the course of our conversation I realized that she was the author of a book that I had read when I first arrived in Kenya.  “African Saga” was the book she wrote about her fascinating family and exotic life growing up in Kenya. It had intrigued me and I was delighted to meet her.

From Mary Anne’s sitting room, there was a spectacular view of the African plains extending toward Maasai land, and there we sat chatting for hours. Mirella explained that she had returned to Kenya to find another crew for the second leg of an expedition, which she and her husband Lorenzo had started months earlier. It had been Lorenzo’s dream to traverse equatorial Africa’s waterways by boat. He consequently organized such an expedition and named it “The African Rainbow”. After recruiting a large crew of young Europeans and Kenyans, they had initiated the trip on the Tanzanian coastline of the Indian Ocean and continued inland along the Rufiji River. The plan was to eventually reach the mouth of the Congo River on the Atlantic coast. But, according to her the enterprise that had begun in a spirit of adventure and enthusiasm soon changed its tune. Within a couple of months, many of the crew-members had left the expedition. By the time the long rains set in, Mirella and Lorenzo decided to abandon the trip until they could return with crew.

They stored their boats and equipment in Mbeya, central Tanzania and returned to Europe to wait out the long rains. While in Europe, Lorenzo came down with a serious bout of malaria and had been convalescing in Switzerland. Now, he was ready to return to his adventure and was due imminently back in Nairobi. It was Mirella’s mandate to recruit another crew and organize the relaunching of the expedition. She said that she had selected most of the new crew already, all male and now wanted a woman and preferably a nurse or medic who was used to travelling in the bush.

She struck me as a fascinating and vivacious woman and I could not have dreamed up a more perfect solution to my situation. I told her about my circumstances: Being a nurse, with Outward Bound and wilderness experience & expeditions, while needing to leave Kenya shortly for a few months. We laughed at the synchronicity and when Mirella asked if I was interested, I jumped at the opportunity. It all seemed too good to be true!

Mirella said that they planned to reunite with their boats and gear in Tanzania before the end of the month. She told me that Lorenzo would make the final decision, but as far as she was concerned, she had found three other appropriate young men and felt that with me she had a complete crew. I could hardly contain my excitement and enthusiasm.

When Lorenzo arrived, a couple of days later, they invited us, Mirella’s newly selected crew, for dinner to meet each other and discuss the expedition. Lorenzo did not yet commit himself to Mirella’s choices as he had just come off the plane from Europe, and needed some time to digest them. Early the following morning, I had to return to Samburu for a previous commitment, but told Mirella that I would ‘phone them upon my return in a few days. They were planning to leave in a couple of weeks, just before my visa was due to expire.

On the appointed day, having arrived off the bus from Samburu, I walked up from the country bus station towards the centre of Nairobi, when a car suddenly screeched to a halt in front of me. To my amazement, it was Mirella and Lorenzo. Mirella gave me a “thumbs up” sign and said, “You’re on the Rainbow. Get in! We’ve no time to waste!”  

The new crew consisted of three locally born Kenyans who soon became like fun-loving, little brothers to me: Hugo who was a trained engineer, Charlie whose father had been a well-known safari guide, Adam, Hugo’s cousin from the coast, and me. The other members of our team were Mwangangi a driver and mechanic, Mbithi his assistant, who had both worked for Charlie’s family for many years and Michael, a superb cook. Over the next week or two we were busy procuring the various visas, vaccinations and last minute necessities. We crossed the border into Tanzania on the first leg of our equatorial adventure just before my Kenyan visa expired.

It was a fascinating adventure, which took us across land and water through Tananzia, down Lake Malawi, up Lake Tanganika, across Burundi and Rwanda, down the Congo River and back by road through Uganda and Kenya.

So it was that a few months later, I returned to Nairobi to find my papers and permit in order. Mary Anne, together with her dedicated and enthusiastic friends, Lochigan Loiboitung, a Samburu warrior from Lesirikan area, and Kate MacIntyre, founded the charity SAIDIA – Samburu AID In Africa. (Saidia is also the Kiswahili word for “help” or “aid”). All was in order, and so I headed directly up to work in the Samburu clinic.  I was very grateful, and enthusiastic to start my new life, there.