My night out in the bush

Lately, there is a craze about outdoor activities sweeping through the city. People have suddenly developed a passion for biking, mountain-climbing, sightseeing, camping and such like.

The Western syndrome is catching up with us. I mean, why would people just leave their houses to go and cycle in the forest for a whole weekend or even carry huge bags on their backs and then spend the whole day going up a mountain just for fun and come back?

I am sure one of these days we will read about such people in history books, the same way we read about Neil Armstrong and Isaac Newton because I am sure they will discover new things very soon.

Brace yourselves and keep the spirit alive. We are fully behind you on your quest to take Africa to another level.

I would have been among this group that finds fun in nature but when I tried falling in love with nature, my leg almost broke when i was running away from God-knows-what.

That experience alone was enough to send me back to indoor adventures like watching Reality TV series in my living room while curled up in a blanket and munching popcorn.

I would better stay home and be their emergency contact person than be a specimen out in the woods.

In my early 20s, actually 21 to be precise, I gave in to peer pressure and went camping on the shores of Lake Naivasha.

As we were checking in at the site, we heard rumors that rogue hippos had been terrorizing residents around the lake.

Worse still, someone was busy explaining to people at the camp site how fast a hippo can slice a human being into two. Were it not late, I would have travelled back to Nairobi, to my warm bed.

We made merry around a bonfire for the better part of the night, and unlike my camping mates who were high on some hard substance, I was high on a soft drink that seemed to beckon sleep every minute.

By the time the rest were joining me in the huge tent we had pitched, I was dead asleep.

In fact, I did not hear a thing until I suddenly felt something falling with a thud on our weak tent. I felt a heavy object over me and I immediately knew we had been attacked by a hippo.

I pictured myself being sliced into two and that alone gave me the unexpected strength to start screaming as I ran out of the tent.

It did not take long before everyone woke up and in confusion joined in the race. Suddenly, everyone was running within the tent while trying to find their way out.

In the confusion, they brought the tent down and that only made the screams louder. By the time we were rescued, we had suffered serious trauma.

We were pulled out of the tent though we were still protesting because we did not know whether it was safer within the tent or outside where the hippo was.

We only came to realise that a drunkard who could barely stand on his feet had staggered and fallen on our tent. Let me just say that incident marked the end of me and outdoor adventures. Never again!

I prefer to hold a remote control console to pause, rewind, fast-forward and play a movie at home than spending a day or night out in the bush.

I look forward to reading about y’all in history books.