On Higher Ground - Memories Of A Bike Ride Through Ladakh

This one is for the ellis!

Tumaini – My Hope for Earth

It is a round world after all! And you can't walk to the ends of the earth and fall over – rather difficult to believe, as you look at eternity from the edge of a hill, into an abyss of green and brown; trees and hard rock. You skid, stumble and grip air to halt your fall, watching as the tiny rocks at your feet, disappear down into oblivion.

“Bump!”, you land on your behind. The vacant expression on your face is gradually replaced by a concoction of confusion, realisation, panic and relief, as you turn away from the edge. There is a flash of a camera and you know your comical look will soon be plastered and viewed across the world on too many social media sites. 

Cautiously, you attempt to stand and move further away from what could have been the world's infamous edge (which no longer lives to its treacherous reputation) and meet the concerned but laughing faces of fellow adventurers.

You sit down and slowly, as you sip on some water and make sure your precious camera is not damaged, a certain normalcy returns: your fingers stop trembling, your feet come alive from their dead-log stupor, you believe in science again and manage to put aside questions about the gravity of the situation.

I look at the craggy drop, barely an inch away from me, and nestle closer to the rock I am hiding behind. How different things look now, from back then. In-fact, the drop below is almost comforting. The people after me will kill me and worse still, the death they offer me will be more painful than what awaits me at the bottom – if there is one – of this fall. I make up my mind: if they find me I will jump.

My one hope is that I have learnt how to cover my tracks – I still have a chance of staying undiscovered. But, even if I stay hidden from them now, would I make it through the night? This isn't exactly a safe haven. I stubbornly contain my anxiety and hopelessly check my phone for connectivity - Murphy's Law is a bitch - my phone battery is dead. I crouch deeper into the earth wishing it would swallow me up, continually grateful for the cloud cover that prevents me from creating enemy shadows.

I stay dead-still as I hear their voices and sense the threat in their foreign words. I have good reason to be terrified. I have seen these men kill. I have seen them slaughter innocent creatures: commit murder more than once. These men are dangerous and they are cowardly. They attack unfairly and kill an unarmed, innocent enemy. I am ashamed to know they are human and therefore kin. I am proud that I have captured their crimes on my camera. I am petrified that I may not be able to expose them - aggrieved that I was helpless to stop them. 

Over the last year, I have spent alternate weekends in this beautiful landscape. My camera (nothing fancy – just a small digital friend), backpack and food are my only companions. There is a consummate sense of peace amidst these lush hills and listening to the river flowing, unmoved by my presence or lack of it, is surprisingly comforting. Who would believe that such muddy waters could look so beautiful? It is beautiful and is made even more breath-taking as I catch a glimpse of big swaying ears, gliding to and fro; smaller, giant feet come into view and graceful trunks playfully dip, pick and spray water everywhere. Every herd I see as precious as the previous one; I can watch these elephants forever. 

How grand! How magical! How tranquil - I remember that feeling now and watch as the killers pass me. I dare not breathe and send silent thank you messages to a God I have never prayed to. I watch as dark clouds turn ominous, and one by one, heavy rain drops cover the earth around me. I tuck in my knees and hug my backpack, protecting it best as I can, as I cower in the downpour. 

Camouflaged behind the shrubs, I see the ripple of grass ahead and it attracts my attention simply because it seems out of place. I doubt a human eye could spot me and I feel proud as I dwell on that. It's the impossible shriek that stirs me out of my self appreciative thoughts. I look ahead to see the herd in chaotic movement and there is another nightmarish cry as one of the bigger elephants falls lifeless to the ground. I am stunned. A pride must have attacked the herd - As horrific and rare as this is, it is the first possibility to strike me. I snatch my camera and rapidly capture photos. I cannot stop as the scene ahead of me unfolds. I am numb and feel the tears roll down my face. I hear a scream coming down from somewhere in the pit of my stomach; I do not understand how I have contained it. 

The rain has finally stopped and I stand up. The rain was a blessing in disguise but I know I must leave here immediately. I turn eastwards; I will make my way to the lodge and from there, to Nairobi. I am not naive and know the chances of escape are low. I do not know where these men or their spies lurk, but this plan is my only hope! I look up and see the first star appear, as I take my first step towards help and away from the destruction I had witnessed.

Time has stopped. I am unable to take more photos. I can see and smell the vomit next to me and make a futile attempt to move away. A more powerful and permanent smell starts to fill my nostrils - blood. I watch the men, their faces imprinted in my mind, carry the ivory they have hacked off my jumbos to the Land Rover. I see their guns, their machetes. They are unfazed by the horrific sights they have created. I yearn to look away, I cannot. None of the herd has escaped. The big tuskers had no chance and the others have been slaughtered, as they bravely tried to protect each other. I have never seen such devastation. I must help – and yet I am unable to move. I do not know what to do: ahead of me are endless beheaded figures, around me bandits who will kill me. I see them picking the last of their stash now and uncaring, they begin their exit. 

I knew it was a mistake to move. It was that slight movement, yonder, that decided me. I wasn’t sure if my eyes had been playing tricks on me. Then it was there again, a plaintive movement: It was a baby, alive and wailing next to its decapitated mother. I crawled out from behind the shrub and as the Land Rover began to drive away, I pressed onward. I must help – it was the only thought I had. I got closer and saw tears run down its normally smiling face. I had watched this herd for days and knew this baby calf. I had seen her come to life. She is patchy with her mother's blood now and distressed. I am almost next to her. I hear the car and turn around; I am not sure why they are back. All I know is that I have to get away. There is a great deal of shouting as they see me. I push the little calf down as hard as I can, crying, hoping she would understand that she should not move. The massacre around me is what saves me. The car cannot pass through and by the time these heartless men are on their feet I have retreated into the thicket. I run hard and pay no heed to the scratches on my body. I frantically try and keep a sense of direction. I know I must try and reach people. These cowards would not harm me in front of others and risk exposure – would they? I keep going. I hear them sometimes, as the tears continue streaming down my face – It is the sickness of it all. Seeing this carnage has left me broken - fast and completely. I stumble on and reach the edge of a hill and see the rock. It is my time to hide. It is my time to do anything I can to show the world that these men deserve punishment – that they deserve death.

It is barely eight hours later. I am being followed. I do not slow down,and maintain my course, close to the main path. The presence behind me doesn't feel harmful – It is in harmony with the sounds of insects and birds surrounding me. There is no moonlight and my progress is slow, but I am hopeful and happy not to have met any lions or leopards (I am unprepared for more adventure). I curse my stupid thoughts of hope as I spy two amber eyes and then four and then too many to count. They are right here - I have walked into a pride. I am tired and scared– what was I to do? I crumple, gracelessly to the ground

There is a movement. I see the silhouette of a lioness stand and walk towards me, pausing and analyzing me – am I a threat? Am I a meal? I catch the swish of her tail. I wish she would understand that I am in trouble and that I must take my photos away from here. I am here to help. I watch her approach and try to maintain eye contact. I can feel her move towards me – the pride behind her are alert. Then, I feel it on my shoulder and I struggle to keep my composure. I am pushed aside, albeit gently, as the lioness steps back and turns away, shrugging off her interest in me with supine haughtiness.

I know we don't have much time before the pride realises that the calf is alone. And in a beautiful moment I realise she isn't alone: she has me and I have her. Perhaps, she does know, in her own sense, that I want to help. I gather myself together and move to the open road with renewed belief. I walk quickly with Tumaini (Hope, as I have named her) by my side. Her sorrow is obvious from the tears still running down her face, her head is drooping and that ever present hint of a smile – so part of an elephant - is missing. But her walk is steady and determined, and we press on.

It has been three months from that day now and I am at the lodge again. I still have trouble sleeping. I will never be the same. There are camera men and journalists around me. My pictures and story have been published on a special edition of National Geographic. I have exposed the murderers: four of them are now in prison. The park has more patrols, and elephant herds here are now protected by rangers, day and night. It is a very small victory considering the massive problem. I am not proud; I am barely moved. But I am humbled, and I am glad I have a small victory to help me do more. Mostly, I am privileged to have a new friend – I look up and see Tumaini, lingering at the edge of the lodge. Her new family begins to walk majestically away but she is looking at me and raises her trunk. I look into her eyes. It is a promise we have made together– a promise to help in any small way!

The Highway, or the Greenway

Green has always been one of my favourite colours. The hues and shades it offers stand out in any environment- ocean, mountain, savannah or forest…and despite the odds even in the city.

It’s interesting though that many people today do not understand the value of a green environment. Appreciation for its beauty, scientific and natural value seems to thin out by the minute. The sacrifice of nature and wildlife for human “development”, greed and dirty politics is progressing at such great pace that emaciated flora and fauna is the grim future that awaits us. Over the years East Africa has been at the forefront of environmental disasters. The Mau forest and Nairobi city itself are stark examples of things going awry. Not surprisingly a UNESCO world heritage site is now under threat- The Serengeti National Park. A controversial highway is set to be built through the national park cutting across the migratory paths of approximately two million wildebeest that cross over from the Serengeti to the Maasai Mara in search of food. This annual spectacle is one of the natural wonders of the world and plays a major role in the tourism and economic industries of both Kenya and Tanzania.

This isn’t the first threat that the Serengeti has faced but perhaps it is the most dangerous. The Tanzanian president, Mr. Kikwete has approved the plan to build a non-paved highway through the Serengeti national park dismissing world outrage and concern along with Nyerere doctrines as baseless. The Environment Impact assessment for his decision must be one of the worst in EIA history and offers no realistic solutions to the impact of the proposed highway. Development for any country is important but development must make sense in the long run as well. Naturalists and Environmentalists have shown that an alternate route – the southern route is a viable and more profitable solution. So why is the government of Tanzania still persisting on building the Serengeti highway? Three critical reasons come to mind,

1. Mining interests in the region

2. Ensuring a campaign promise made in 2005 is fulfilled and that the road will win more votes by easing the transport requirements of businesses by linking Musumba and Arusha.

3. Asserting government power by defying world recommendation

But the above three reasons are not justification enough to call forth a long term catastrophe.

A road through the National park is bound to increase the animal road kills. Roads to Mikumi National park in Zambia(5000 animal deaths per year), Tsavo (over 100 species per day) and even Bandipur in India (where animal road kills are said to exceed the poaching numbers) are just a few examples of where roads have lead to serious loss of animal life due to accidents. Many of you are familiar with the Maasai Mara. The July-September season is migration time and the pathways and roads through the park are heavily populated by wildebeest and zebra. Recently I got the chance to see this spectacle, and the thought of heavy commercial trucks through this site was more than horrifying. One combi can manage to kill atleast three of these animals in every herd. Now just imagine twenty to thirty trucks driving on a single stretch of road that has thousands of wildebeests’ crossing...I see blood. I see death.

Earlier this year Tanzania saw its proposal to sell off ivory revoked at the CITES meeting. Tanzania already has a problem, a growing problem, with poaching. A highway is a sure way of easing access for poachers and game hunters to their prey. The ease of transporting poacher’s loot will simply act as a catalyst for quick hauls and increase security problems in the region.

If the Tanzanian people are to benefit from the project, the southern route will serve five times the number of people (2,278,000 vs. 431,000). The southern route already has the infrastructure to support such a construction (fuel, lodging and so on) and can utilize existing roads reducing the cost of the entire project. The road is also likely to attract more donor-funding and has the greatest advantage of not interfering with the Serengeti ecosystem.

The increased pressure on the eco-system and natural habitat will eventually have a global impact. Increased infrastructure and agriculture in the area is bound to affect weather patterns, food cycles and the order of things radically.

The Serengeti National park, as a UNESCO world heritage site and as part of the seven world’s natural wonders, provides Tanzania with marketing for its country and boosts its tourism industry. Destroying this will definitely lead to a fall in the reputation of the country and worse still a boycott of tourism in the region resulting in a serious and detrimental loss of revenue for Tanzania and Kenya.

Human-wildlife conflict is such a clichéd phrase in this age and time simply because it is a very real and common problem, especially for us in Africa and in India where we have such diverse eco-systems. A commercial road through this area will increase this conflict. Settlements and an increasing human presence in the area, along with constructions of human amenities and an increase in noise and pollution will unnerve animals and could lead to attacks from both sides. As the animals cross through human populated areas any damage will result in a deterioration of the co-habitance

The above are only some of the reasons why the highway is a bad idea. Many of you reading this might wonder why a highway in some remote place in Tanzania should be of importance to you. Stop wondering. This road is, perhaps later than sooner, going to affect you. A reduction in tourism in East Africa, an increase in the crime rate through poaching, an increase in pollution, a dictatorial like regime and a loss of reputation is only the beginning of the problems the highway spearheads.

Green is not only one of my favourite colours it is also a colour that symbolizes new things and life. Imagine a future where you cannot breathe fresh air, a future where you cannot go on a safari, a future where research is restricted, a future where breathing would be stifling.

To quote his holiness the Dalai Lama, “Peace and the survival of life on earth as we know it are threatened by human activities that lack a commitment to humanitarian values. Destruction of nature and natural resources results from ignorance, greed and lack of respect for the earths’ living things.” It is time to end this war with nature. As a resident of East Africa and the world, take a stand and say YES to the greenway… and to life!

Kindly sign the petition to stop the highway

http://www.change.org/petitions/view/stop_the_serengeti_highway

for more information http://www.savetheserengeti.org

Green and infrastructure!

A drive down Chiromo road or towards it, and the familiar sight of what was once the International Casino meets you. Museum Hill round-about is no longer what it used to be - once a lush green corner filled with trees and plants, it is now a dreary sight for anyone who has half a brain. And it only gets worse: the trees, that took years to grow and have been part of the magnificent view against the backdrop of the National Museum, are no longer erect, but lay dead and heaped along the road, after being cut off to accommodate the upcoming high-tech road network.

Of course we need the roads! Hell, after spending hours in traffic, I'm sure everyone agrees we need more roads- let's build them! And voila, we have a great plan: great infrastructure being built by the oh, so environment conscious Chinese! Question is, do we really need the needless destruction as well? Is it impossible to improve our transport network, without wanton destruction of our environment? Does development necessitate a needless demolition of our surroundings? Is Nairobi set to become another concrete jungle city?

One might argue that cutting down a "few trees" at one round-about doesn't precedent great disaster, but lets take a look at patterns: State house road - over the last few weeks numerous trees have been cut off on this once beautiful avenue of sorts. One only has to look at Westlands and Parklands (Hurlingham is catching up) to see how many trees have been mutilated over the last few years. I wonder how long our safe havens (for now - Karen, Runda, Loresho etc)will last? (Isn't it a pity we now have specific green areas? (and lavington no longer falls under this list.)) And, no one seems to be questioning these decisions or choices! Where is the famed Green Belt Movement? It seems to me that it is a dead association. What are organizations like NEMA doing? Can they account for the number of random buildings appearing on our skylines, all the office buildings in residential areas and the shoddy infrastructures that have propped up at random corners?

Ever driven down the by-pass joining Mombasa road to Langata? Right next to the National park, the road is an eye-sore, the buildings alongside are ugly, if not horrendous monstrosities. Slums are developing right next to the road and the garbage collecting alongside the park fence is a sight-full! The one good thing about this is KWS's initiative to plant trees - please do become part of this must needed change...

That brings me to something else that is perhaps the most annoying thing about the whole situation - our lack of interest and action. How many people really give a damn that we are becoming a less green, more dirty city? Selfishness to sell land and make money, or buy more buildings and build more things, is so great that we don't seem to be thinking at all. Do we really need to sell land to someone who will build a gigantic structure next to someone's house? Can we think beyond our selfish causes? We are the same people who complain when there is no water flowing from our taps, no rainfall - drought, a high cost of living! And then , when the rain does come, we complain that it is inconsistent, that it is washing away buildings, causing havoc! Think People!!!!! Its time for radical green thinking - you have a responsibility that is beyond you and yours; beyond making money and making it big; beyond leading the rat race - it is a responsibility to life! A life worth living in a green, clean, efficient place! Review your take on the green debate - do something right! We are lucky in Nairobi, things could be a lot worse. Then again, if we don't do something soon then we are bound to be a lot worse than anywhere else!

Mara - A refuge

In a little corner of the world, amidst the dancing sways of green tufts of Savannah, there stands a tree; a single occurrence of an Acacia - in Africa, distinctly called the lone tree. Territorial to the lions, stoic and profound, the lone tree is neither isolated nor alone. It is rather, a sanctuary wild and strong, against the vastness of the great plains; a refuge, a place both calm and beautiful - filled with life. A place that symbolises power, freedom, love, warmth, courage and simplicity - the Savannah: a place that can be all that nature requires it to be. Come, take a look and see if nature can give you what you need!!!