The recent launch of the Standard Gauge Railway (SGR) was greeted with both excitement and criticism. Never mind the last train on this part of the world was last launched more than 100 years ago.
Majority of those who never knew how life was like in Kenya before cellphones have never boarded a train which was why they took to social media, selfies and all. I won’t blame them for the excitement. It was the same feeling in our time.
I’m a born city because my great grandfather migrated to Nairobi during the construction of the old railway — and decided he had a future in Nairobi. Most of the people from Western Kenya and Asians found themselves in Nairobi because of the railway.
Unlike some who came here in empty hearses, or when joining universities, I must thank God it’s my earlier generation that made this possible.
The old East African Railways & Habours owned most of the land in Nairobi, from Upper Hill to Muthuruwa nicknamed ‘Dallas’ by my parents generation. My grandparents stayed in Kaloleni (Oloolo) and Makongeni (Okongo), the home of hardcore Sheng.
And they told us stories of how organised the railway was with good facilities. It was one of the biggest employers before mismanagement by different regimes took it to the swamps.
But most of us who lived in Eastlands grew around trains, as there was a railway line either carrying goods or passengers in the vicinity. Our free time was spent in adventurous ways, walking and trying to balance along the rail lines. We found it quiet sporty, placing bottle tops on the rail so that they could be flattened by trains.
It was also along rail lines that we found good, rounded stones ideal for use on catapults or ‘feya’ — besides a lot of farming on the land flanking the railway and so when we wanted to prepare maize or potatoes for Kalongolongo (cooking in tins) we used to get them not far from the tracks.
I first travelled by train to visit my grandparents in Western Kenya, my most exiting trip ever. It was quite an experince given I had always travelled by OTC bus, which was quite an uncomfortable eperience. We nicknamed them ‘Onyango Twende Choo.’
The OTC buses took more than 12 hours on the road, and were often stuffy and annoyingly slow. Those days the trains had First Class, Second Class and Third Class coaches —and we always travelled Second Class which had pull-out beds which were convenient enough for a sizeable family.
It was during this maiden ride that my sister Becky and I demolished a whole grilled chicken meant for dinner as my parents went about buying stuff at one of the stopovers! Then there was that slow pulling of wagons, the train hooting as it approached the next station.
My last train ride was when the Buru Buru primary School Class of ‘85 travelled for a school trip to and from Mombasa. That was the first time I rode Third Class. The trip was also very enjoyable as it was the first time most of us were spending together out of our parent’s houses.
Oh! I forgot the time I was in college when we rode the train to Voi for a Presidents Award Scheme.
I will encourage the new generation to make sure they use the iron snake when making a trip to Mombasa. Its much safer, and a great adventure.
With this they can have a rough idea how electric trains operate. I assure you its more comfortable than buses, and faster too. But one thing I must remind them: a train operates on clockwork so if they don’t know how to keep time they will be left behind, gnashing their teeth in the cold.