Qwani’s tree-planting hike at Kiambu caves

I would be lying if I said I hadn't been eagerly waiting for the hiking day ever since I joined the Qwani hiking community early last month. This time, they had planned a hike to the Ngurunga Cia Njangiri caves in Lusigetti, Kikuyu.

So, on the D-Day, I was already up by 6am, ready to tackle the day and everything it would throw at me.

Nairobi, the city under the sun, had been going through a heatwave ever since January, so I believed it would also be the perfect weather for the hike.

However, when I woke up, I could swear I heard drizzling sounds outside, but I brushed that aside.

I stepped out of the house barely dressed for the cold, and so it hit me right in the face. Turns out my ears weren’t playing tricks on me, for it was actually drizzling.

The temperature widget on my phone read 16 degrees Celsius. "This doesn't seem promising,” I said to myself.

Nonetheless, I hoped that the weather would change as the day was still young.

RAINY DAY

I convinced myself that by 10am, the sun would be shining on our East African foreheads enough to be reflected. I grabbed hold of my umbrella and made my way to the meeting point, which was the Hilton benches.

Upon arrival at the Hilton benches at 7.45am, I was shocked because the number of attendees was higher than I expected despite the rain, and it also seemed like everyone else had their fingers crossed that the sun would still shine, judging by how they were dressed. 

We waited for 30 minutes past the agreed time due to those who were operating on African time. I kid you not, even after leaving the meeting point, and even midway into the hike, some latecomers were still asking for our live location so they could catch up.

We boarded a Super Metro at Archives at 8:30am and made our way to Kikuyu. Everyone around was beaming with delight at the promise of socialising and visiting the Ngurunga cia Njangiri caves, which were said to have housed the Mau Mau during the great resistance for our land against the colonialists.

As we drove further away from the CBD, the intensity of the rain seemed to increase. The matatu windows became foggy and even the matatu became cold, evidently from how I was shaking like a leaf.

We arrived in Kikuyu at 9am and once again proceeded to wait for some of the latecomers. When they eventually caught up, we boarded a Nissan  to our final destination, which was a small town outside Kikuyu known as Lusigetti.

The Africanisation of European names has always been an interesting concept to me. So you can imagine my excitement and surprise when I found out that our destination, Lusegetti, as well, was initially called Rose Gate by the British. Funny enough, the locals actually called the place ‘Ruthigiti’, which was now an Africanisation of the already Africanised name, Lusigetti.

We finally arrived at the starting point at 10am. At the time, the sun was still teasing us, peeping out once in a while from the clouds and then going back into hiding. The light showers had subsided by then, but the cold remained persistent. 

HIKE BEGINS

Once all the hikers had settled, we formed a circle and then Zawadi, one of the lead guides, led us through stretches so we could jumpstart our muscles for the trek that awaited us. Then we finally began it.

The terrain started off in a promising manner, preparing us for an adventure-filled day. Large rocks lined up the way ahead, and we really struggled to descend past them because by then, they had become quite slippery due to the morning rain.

Once we had completed our descent, the road smoothened and we could now see the horizon where the clouds met the mountains, our destination. This tickled the spirit of adventure that was well rooted within me, which I could only assume was inherited from my ancestors. We walked, each at their own pace, taking pictures and marvelling at all the sights. 20 minutes into the hike, we arrived at what was to be our first stop.

It was a valley that looked like a rock mining site. We later came to learn that it actually was. During the construction of the James Gichuru-Rironi road, this was where the Chinese contractors would excavate the sand. Once they finished the project, they abandoned it as is, a case of land dereliction. An eerie-looking quiver tree stood ominously at the edge, with barely any leaves present and some of its roots showing on the side. I wondered how long it had been there for.

The escarpments of the valley provided child-like excitement to the men to the point that one of them dared the rest that, if they were man enough, they should climb up the escarpment to get to the other side of the terrain. Almost all of them, with vigour, went up the steep terrain to get to the other side while the ladies, including me, used the easier route  with a clearly defined  path to get to the other side.

We walked on until we finally arrived at the foot of some hills. The hills  stood majestically ahead of us, covered with vegetation. The vegetation mainly consisted of thickets and shrubs. Thence began the actual hike. Walking up the steep terrain proved to be quite difficult. You could hear huffs and puffs of the unfit youth going up the hills, and somehow this wasn’t even the hardest part. At this point, I was still energised and ready for the challenge. I could see other people had already started taking rests but I was driven by the zeal to get to the cave.

We made our next stop at the top of the hill. The other lead guide, Ang’ana, explained that in 2022, the area had been completely barren, but thanks to an initiative they had undertaken then, trees had been planted and it was now greener than it initially was. He followed up by explaining that our main activity for the day would be planting trees. This was quite surprising as there weren’t any seedlings or jembes  around; at least none that I had seen. Seeing the look of confusion on our faces, he  went on to clarify how we were going to plant the trees.

SEEDBALLS KENYA

Cookswell Jikos and Chardust Limited had come together to form a joint collaborative project known as Seedballs Kenya. The aim was to come up with a sustainability method through which seeds can easily be planted.

Creation of seedballs involves coating acacia seeds, which are more accustomed to such arid and semi-arid environments , with a layer of humus and then an additional layer of charcoal on the outside to form a round ball. The purpose of the charcoal layer is to ensure that the seeds are protected from adverse conditions, while the humus acts as a fertiliser to help them grow.

I thought that was cool, but it turns out that it was not as cool as how we would plant them. Interestingly enough, we would put the seeds on a slingshot and shoot them. Just like the parable of the sower, they would grow on whichever ground they fell, and they needed not to be tended to.

Most people took this chance to play with the seeds by directly aiming them at Ang’ana and shooting at him. In all honesty, this was my favourite part. At one point, I aimed five balls at him, all at the same time, but lucky for him, he eluded them all. Talk about shooting your shot and missing!

After that, we took our lunch, and I was surprised to see what people had packed. One gym bro called John Njihia had packed 12 eggs and avocado salads, while the rest of us just had a bunch of processed foods. I honestly admired his dedication.

FINAL LEG

Afterwards, we walked over to the edge of the hill at the cliff, and the adrenaline junkies sat right at the edge. I stood at a safe distance, worried for their sake, but they seemed to be having fun. I thought that was the end of the hike before it dawned on me that the path to the cave was at the edge of the cliff. For you to get to the cave, you have to unleash your inner mountain goat and swallow your fear of heights, then crawl at the very edge of the cliff, which was slippery as well.

At this point, most of the people gave up. But I wasn’t having any of it. I had to get into that cave even if I died trying (in this case it was actually a possible outcome). My heart was in my mouth the whole time as I walked almost on all fours, trying not to look down at the horrendous plain that was almost 100 feet down.

A few people who went on ahead of me even let out screams. My life flashed in front of my eyes more times than I could count. I rued the day I decided this was a good idea. To hell with  my spirit of adventure. To be honest, I really wished that I had stayed at home, in bed.

After an excruciating eternity, I made it to the cave. Words can’t explain the horror that it was to get there. The adrenaline junkies were at it again, on top of the entrance of the cave, taking pictures. I concluded that their fight or flight instinct might have been replaced by a rest and digest instinct. As I was losing my breath, other people were making hearts with their hands on top of the edge of a 100-foot high cave. Crazy.

After a million pictures, we began yet another tortuous journey down the hill. I barely use cuss words, but on this trail down, I used all the cuss words in all the four languages I could speak. The Lord is faithful because we all made it down in one piece. The views from down below were even  more immaculate, and it was especially funny seeing people almost lose their marbles with every little slip they made, forgetting that it had been me just a couple of seconds before.

We then made our way to the finishing point and on the way, a few of the men decided to show off their bravado by engaging in a race while the rest of us cheered them on. I cannot imagine how they woke up feeling the next day. We ended by doing warm-down stretches thanks again to Zawadi, and then proceeded off to our various homes. For a first-time hike, this was such an enlightening experience.

My back was sore for days, but I cannot help but marvel as I look at the pictures we took and the memories we made.