Hymns of endurance, hope lift Nyamira lumberjacks

From a distance two men are heard singing amidst the sounds of a gigantic saw eating into a log of a tree down at the river valley in Bundo village, Nyamira County.

These songs may not make a lot of sense to a distant listener as some rhymes get swallowed by the saw’s sound, but to these two famous lumberjacks of Nyamira, their instant music composition re-energises them to continue with the work at hand. Closer you will meet two bare-chested men, Joseph Minda and his compatriot Charles Obino as they pull their hands up and down, doing what they have always done best for more than 50 years — lumbering.

Soothing songs

Contortions on their bare chests tell half of the story. For years they have perfected the art of singing along to the ricocheting sounds of their saw, that makes music happen and the work done. The sounds from the gigantic saw and the songs they compose are so synchronised that you wonder why their genre has never won an award.

At times they whistle as they create bridges to a seemingly unending epic whose lyrics are full of euphemism. It is a perfect duet you may say that bears the deepest meaning that only people in the lumbering industry understand.

Looking on is Samwel Gesora, who has since retired from the blood and sweat-sucking activity. He says the songs could sometimes bear deeper meaning that bordered matters of the bedroom. But more importantly the lumberjacks sang to remind themselves about home, relieve stress and reflect on the difficult life in the forests.

“I went to Tanzania in 1971 and left in 1973. I was just 16 years and I had dropped out of school in Grade Four and chose lumbering. With time I perfected the skills,” says Gesora who seems to enjoy as Minda and Obino reduce the horizontally laid log into timber.

He adds: “By singing you could ask yourselves many questions like why didn’t I go to school. I wish I did and so forth.” ???

He recalls that singing along the sounds emanating from a saw eating deep into the log makes the job interesting. Singing re-energises them to continue working under a heavy canopy whose shade cannot stop them from sweating profusely.

According to Minda, he inherited the skills from his father. He explains how to erect the two vertical poles and horizontal shaft as two other poles lie on the ‘bed’ at about 45 degrees, then the log that would meet the saw is propped up and firmly supported by other pieces of wood.

Minda assumes the top position and with ease slides the saw into the log as Obino takes a lower position. The work continues as the saw walks over the tree. It takes the two some ten minutes to maul over the ten feet long wood. It could take longer if they failed to sing along.

Minda says he started doing this in 1961 and has since widely travelled across East Africa from Tanzania to Uganda. In Kenya, he has been to Meru, Kericho, Kakamega, Timboroa, and Mt Elgon among other places in search of forests and for a job they knew best and upon returning home, they received a lot of admiration from youthful villagers.

Like Gesora, Minda never completed school but his skills had taken him farther than an average university graduate. Besides he’s been able to take his children to school and afford their basic needs. He makes Sh6 per feet of timber he produces. And the money they both get is just enough to afford them a decent livelihood though not a luxurious one.

They recall the sweet moments of the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s when they were the only people in the village, lucky to have travelled far and wide.

“We earned a cent for work done and we have grown to see our earnings increase to Sh6 per feet. Young boys admired our lifestyle and some dropped out of school to plunge into the timber making trade for them to later regret,” recalls Minda.

Gesora says in 1973 upon returning home from Tanzania, where Minda had taken him, he bought a Kinanda. He became popular and the most sought after man. He was needed to give visitors a treat of entertainment.

“As a young man, I enjoyed the feasts and could be hired for up to three days. I never disappointed. I became a deejay and I was the only person to operate the machine. I gained a lot of respect,” recalls Gesora.

Inspiration to the young

It was such a lifestyle that inspired many young boys to drop out of school for the saw. Upon getting salaries the boys of yester-years were the only people who could afford a bear in a bar.

“In bars we enjoyed ourselves and we could dance in discos till morning. We were able to afford trendy clothes like belly-bottom trousers,” says Minda smiling.

“Time flies fast,” notes Minda while acknowledging that new technologies have come that might render them jobless but he vows not to abandon traditional saw for it produces the best quality timber. He says lumbering needs one to eat well.

 “Sio kula mboga za hivi hivi! Chakula ni maharagwe na ugali,” says Minda meaning that ugali and cooked beans were what they have to eat to be fit for the job.

Despite the advent of motorised power saws, Minda and Obino are not ready to change from the old ways. They argue that power-saws eat up much of the wood leading to wastage and further threaten existence of forests.

“It may be quick to use a power-saw but I won’t recommend it to anybody who wants smooth quality timber,” notes Minda.

It is an old adage that postulates that old habits die hard and for Minda and Obino, as long as they are not retired just like Gesora, the traditional saw will be their only way that trees will be eaten. Their work, they say is a natural body building activity making them much stronger and healthier. It is a body fitness venture.

Young people who grew seeing the lumberjacks leave their chests bare. It makes them look more serious and hard working. Those who visit Gusii region for the first time to see men struggle with logs of wood for timber stay astonished with the strength that lumberjacks portend. It is a thing they have done and perfected for ages. But with technology, observers argue that manual lumbering will soon fizzle.