Adventures in Mombasa

Mombasa is a coastal city in southeastern Kenya along the Indian Ocean. It was the first capital of British East Africa, before Nairobi was elevated to capital city status. It now serves as the capital of Mombasa County. The town is known as "the white and blue city" in Kenya. It is the country's oldest (circa 900 AD) and second-largest city after the capital Nairobi, with a population of about 1,208,333 people according to the 2019 census. Its metropolitan region is the second-largest in the country, and has a population of 3,528,940 people. (wikipedia) Today I would like to write about my experience and adventures in Mombasa and Kilifi. I arrived in Mombasa, not really prepared for this city and this district. My friends just said go there, Mombasa is beautiful. So I wanted to see this beautiful city. Most of all, I was curious about the sea. With 1,208,333 inhabitants, Mombasa is the second largest city in Kenya and the most important port city in East Africa. The city is located on Mombasa Island on the Indian Ocean and is the capital of the county of the same name. What should I tell you, everyone knows Mombasa. As soon as I got out all hell broke loose on me. Matatu drivers, even female drivers, stormed me, harassed me, didn't let me breathe. That was scary. "Where are you going, Mzugu?" "Mtwapa," I replied. "Long way, 5000!" As soon as the number was mentioned, someone else shouted: "4500!" "4000!" And so it continues. I was surrounded by these boars. The last offer was in 2000. I didn't know where Mtwapa is, how far away it is, I booked a hotel over the internet. That got too much for me. "If it is not possible to get a normal price, I will walk!" I took my backpack and slowly walked down the street. The parking lot where the matatus stood emptied, soon there were only a few left. Someone ran after me. "Mzungu, wait, I have an offer for you!" I waited. It was a shared taxi that wasn't quite full. The price was acceptable so I went back and got in. It took another half an hour, then we drove off. I can't say where we were going, I have no idea. I can only remember one bridge. One by one got out, I was the last. I had never seen the hotel before, only on the picture on the Internet. But whatever. Mtwapa I'm here! Mtwapa is a city in Kilifi County in Kenya. The city is located about 16 kilometers northeast of Mombasa on the Mombasa – Malindi road. Mtwapa Creek is an inlet of the Indian Ocean near Mtwapa, which forms the border between Mombasa and Mtwapa. Mtwapa is a satellite city and it is part of the metropolitan area of ​​Mombasa. It's warm and humid; I sweat. I come from the highlands and I am warmly dressed. The hotel is closed! What bad luck too! What can I do? It's not nice here, I don't like the area. Doesn't look good here, I imagined it differently. There can be no talk of a beautiful city here. It's dirty, dusty and dirty here. A tuck-tuck is coming. He stops. "Can I help?" It is a young man. Who in this country is older than me? Everyone is younger and more beautiful. But whatever? "Yes," I said, "I'm looking for a hotel, if possible open and not too expensive." "How much do you want to spend?" "2000, about" "Get in, I'll take you there." "What does this cost?" I have become cautious, I learned in Kenya. Caution is the mother of the porcelain box, as we say. "200" I got in, couldn't be far. And really, after a few street corners we stop. "Here it is! Check it out, if you don't like it there are several other hotels." I stayed. Wasn't the best but acceptable, located on a side street, far away from the crowd, the bars, ... But more about that later. As I said, I was very interested in the sea, I wasn't interested in the city of Mtwapa at all. And in retrospect, that wasn't wrong either. I asked for the way to the sea. They showed me the direction and I started walking. Down a narrow street, dusty. I noticed the houses, everywhere signs saying "rooms available". So many houses, everyone is looking for guests. Several people were sitting at a table, a white woman with three black men. She smokes, looks at me with interest, and so do I. She looks old, it's not the wrinkled skin that makes her old. I go around the corner, there is a bar, people are sitting at a table in the shade, this time the other way around, a white man with some black women. “Hello, Mzungu!” One of them calls out and waves. I wave back, move on. Soon I'll be at the sea. What a sight! Mangroves, swamps, flies, a lot of people, one bar at a time. Everyone screams: "Come here, have a beer" A huge German flag is there. Maybe 5 meters long. Some whites are sitting around. I ended up in "Little Munich". I don't like that. There is nothing here that would impress me positively. As a white man, I have no peace here. It's time to eat. I'm going back to town, looking for a bar. Massage parlors along the street. Signs in German. "Leberkäse" Where am I here? Everywhere girls, women all look at me. Waiting for customers, they are prostitutes. Men sit around, apparently having nothing to do, are perhaps the beneficiaries of these ladies. What do I know. I ask for an acceptable beach, they tell me. I drive there. Call the tuck-tuck driver, he'll drive me. "Lots of white people here?" I ask him. "Not as many as before." The poor prostitutes, I imagine, no business, no food! No whites, no life! After a few kilometers we arrived. The beach. One hotel after another. One luxury house after another. The sea is shallow, the surf far out, here on the beach the water is calm. I go to the beach. Get dismayed by some, buy this, buy this, the old lyre. You have to get used to that. Kenya is full of it. I would be arrested. Here Read the story: I am on holiday in Kenya. I have to wonder why I'm being arrested here for nothing. Here is the whole story. I went to Mombasa because everyone here raves about this city. My first impression was not very positive. I saw a lot of sex tourists, old white men with young black women. I was ashamed, I have to say. OK, I went to the beach to have fun in the Indian Ocean. So I went to a public beach. At the beginning of this beach there were young men and they all wanted something. I ignored them and wanted to go to the sea, which was about 100m away. On the way there, the police called me to come to them. I went there. They were sitting at a small house and talking. A lady said to me that I was under arrest. Why, I asked. She said because I tried to go on a closed beach. How was I to know that? I was told that it would be written on a board. I didn't see one. I meant, yesterday I was also on the beach and there were a lot of people. That was another state, kilifi and now I am in Mombasa. I meant that it is strange that the police are sitting here, watching me enter a closed beach and just let it happen without warning or informing me. The police's actions must be seen as premeditated because if the beach is closed, then it is their job to guard that no one enters that ground. I remarked on this, apparently the chief said they were only carrying out orders issued by the governor. I can't believe, and I don't accept, that the governor gave such an order, that was an excuse and nothing else. What the police did was simply rubbish. After two hours in prison I wanted to know what would happen next. You must be patient, said the lady. I replied that my question was about the time and not how I should be. She had called and a car was on its way to take me to prison. That was too much. I am sick, I need my medication, I cannot get involved in a maybe. I called the embassy, that's when they got nervous. Threat after threat. The lady and 4 other policemen wielding their guns. Maybe they wanted to scare me. Maybe they were trying to scare me. I said to the lady, are you going to shoot me? Why do I say that? I'm not walking around with a gun, and in a cell. Finally, my companion was asked for 2000 kshs. It was a bargain, because normally they ask for 5000 kshs. I would be released, now I was allowed to walk across the closed beach! The private beaches were open. A little further away, I went swimming after all. However, I did not like it. The behaviour of the police raises many questions. No one can or wants to answer them. You should do something, not everybody is a sextourist. Actually im a doctor in philosophy, writing a book about Africa. I came here to see life of Kenyans. The following message arrives me: Hi! Very sorry for your bad experience. I just want to tell you that what happend to you happens also to Kenyans many times. Once my underaged son was arrestet at the same beach together with his friend, because of loitering around. He was there with the whole family of his friend and the parents tried to explain the officers that the boys weren't alone but they packed them in the lorry and drove them to the police station Bamburi. The father had to pay 5000.- to get them released. Bamburi police station is one of the corruptest on the cost. Police harassment and killings are a big problem here. Here a few words about Kenya's police. Corruption is widespread among Kenya's police. Kenya's National Police Service is considered the country's most corrupt institution, and bribery is reportedly the only way to speed up access to police and services (HRR 2016). What I would like to add here are my thoughts on Mtwapa, Mombasa and Kenya in general. On the beach, which is public, there is a large board. This board shows what is and what is not allowed on the beach. I noticed one thing. There is forbidden topless without, i.e. not covering the breasts. And that got me thinking. Bare breasts are forbidden, prostitution is - although not allowed - but accepted. The church preaches, but keeps silent before prostitution. It is easy. Bare breasts don't bring you anything, no tired shilling, prostitution brings a fair amount of money. And money denies life! Just like the government, which is also keeping quiet as if the problem doesn't exist. The white people I saw in Mtwapa, of course not all, there will be others too, are old. They just take advantage of people's plight. Old men, young women! And the whites are not ashamed! The blacks make fun of these impossible whites on the one hand, and on the other hand they pull the money out of their pockets. Don't bother me at all. They didn't deserve it any other way. Here I would like to mention an article from a Kenyan newspaper. Sex tourists prey on minors pimped by own parents in Mtwapa. Let me copy this small aericle here. When her father started building a new house in their homestead in Kilifi, Esha* (not her real name) did not know she was the “commodity” to be exchanged for the house. Her father had placed his dowry demand even before Esha met her “husband to be”. Her wide smile slowly turns to a sad face filled with bitterness, as she recalls how her enforced marriage to a 65-year-old Westerner shuttered her dreams of salvaging her family from poverty. She was just 14 years old when her father introduced her to a white man. The white man would visit Esha’s home, where she lived with her father and grandmother. Her mother left years ago to work in the Gulf, never to be heard from again. “I had just been sent home from school over a fee balance and my father said he does not have any money. Two months later, I was still at home,” she said. Esha narrated how her father informed her that the mzungu friend he had been bringing to their home for weeks was to be her husband. “Even before I could completely absorb what was going on, we got married in accordance to Islamic rites,” she said. Amid tears, Esha said: “Yule mzungu alinivunja ubikra. Ilikuwa uchungu na nilipokuwa napiga nduru aniwache aliniambia amenilipia kwa babangu, kwa hivyo hakuna mahali ningeweza kuenda ama kufanya.” Which loosely translates to: “That man broke my virginity. It was too painful and when I screamed for him to let me go, he said he had paid for me so there was nothing I could do.” As if that was not cruel enough, the “husband” would go on to sodomise her, as well as use her for other unnatural sex acts. “I do not understand why my own father gave me away to an old man. If he did not have money to take me to school, he should have told me so,” Esha said. Here are some facts about Mombasa. Mombasa has a tropical wet and dry climate (Köppen: As). The amount of rainfall essentially depends on the season. The rainiest months are April and May, while rainfall is minimal between January and February. the general area had long been the site of settlements inhabited by Bantu-speaking peoples who engaged in farming, fishing, and local trading. It was visited in 1331 by the Arab traveler Ibn Baṭṭūṭah and in 1498 by the Portuguese navigator Vasco da Gama. Because of its strategic position, it was continually fought over, passing among the Arabs, Persians, Portuguese, and Turks until 1840, when the sultan of Zanzibar finally gained control. It came under British administration in 1895 and was the capital of the East Africa Protectorate until 1907. Mombasa became a municipality in 1928 and assumed council status in 1959. (britanica) On March 2 the fleet reached the Island of Mozambique, the inhabitants of which believed the Portuguese to be Muslims like themselves. Da Gama learned that they traded with Arab merchants and that four Arab vessels laden with gold, jewels, silver, and spices were then in port; he was also told that Prester John, the long-sought Christian ruler, lived in the interior but held many coastal cities. The Sultan of Mozambique supplied da Gama with two pilots, one of whom deserted when he discovered that the Portuguese were Christians. The expedition reached Mombasa (now in Kenya) on April 7 and dropped anchor at Malindi (also now in Kenya) on April 14, where a Gujarati pilot who knew the route to Calicut, on the southwest coast of India, was taken aboard. After a 23-day run across the Indian Ocean, the Ghats Mountains of India were sighted, and Calicut was reached on May 20. There da Gama erected a padrão to prove he had reached India. The welcome of the Zamorin, the Hindu ruler, of Calicut (then the most important trading centre of southern India), was dispelled by da Gama’s insignificant gifts and rude behaviour. Da Gama failed to conclude a treaty—partly because of the hostility of Muslim merchants and partly because the trumpery presents and cheap trade goods that he had brought, while suited to the West African trade, were hardly in demand in India. The Portuguese had mistakenly believed the Hindus to be Christians. Sent from my phone