Dan Okwiri
#PenningMyJournal. Am amazed I have actually lived in rural Kenya 15 years down the wire. 2010 was the year I rocked into Migori. Had left KQ after clashing with CEO KQ on the path KQ was taking. All my life had been horned in the business aviation, I talked planes dreamt planes for 25 years, the airport was my second home, I knew every nook and cranny. Had given it my sweat, blood and tears.
Somehow I knew it was time to let go. I dribbled with what I would do next, away from the world of aviation, and realized I wanted to do something I had never done before. Asked myself, I have served the nation, but burning in me was why could I not do something that would promote the lives of my own people.
Nyanza has put on the back burner by the political class since in 1963. Our elite holed up in Nairobi did little to change our people’s lives by investing at home. Could I do my bit to change our fortunes?
No risk no gain, mad as a hatter, I packed my belongs in my car without telling a soul where I was heading and drove to Migori. After paying my debts, I had a cheque of Kes 6.5 million paid to me as terminal debts. Now loan-free, ready to tackle an unknown world. A city boy, my knowledge of Luo was zilch, had lived a jet set life, had an uppity accent, my music was Beethoven & Mozart. Everything in Migori was alien.
The challenges I would face were mountain, I hardly knew anyone in Migori and this town was the Wild West. On my arrival it pelted Uhuru with shoe cause they didn’t like his vibe. Soon after that the funding of Migori to Mihuru bay road was ceased as retribution.
Migori hardly had a story building. In the doldrums, electricity was a nightmare, no water, no internet. It was one street podunk town with crawling with reckless lawless boda pikis whizzing bee in every direction. It was baptism of fire the very first day I landed, a piki rammed into the back of my car & blamed me instead.
In the swim, a huge crowd gathered, we exchanged obscenities in hot funk, but I stood ground, I shouting in Queens English, the boda chap rabbling in Luo. He seemed somewhat fascinated by Queensy English lilt, and being a small town, I already was a famous in this small rural town. To cotton on, the locals could not figure out wear I beaned from, shanking shorts a Masai belt, most thought me Masai.
I jumped in with both feet in sweet, I acquired a plot, guiding light I knew that to construct the hotel within my budget I had build it within a 4-month timeline. The longer one drags the building the more cost. First month foundation, 2nd month walling, 3rd & 4th month roofing & finishing.
The hotel was the biggest project in this little town, all the fundis swarmed in for a piece of the pie. They were amazed by personae, they got to discover am Luo. I got the title British. I gave the instructions in English, they always replied in Luo. It was quirky but soon they accepted me the way I am. Overtime my Luo lingo improved, and I sure improved their English too. The world is give and take.
The Kes 6 million sound a whale of money, money had more value it pushed me far to complete 90% but not finishing. It would take me 5 years to finish it slowly as I operated the business. I had to get a borehole done, which I had not factored in.
I got into business at a lucky time, devolution had started, so I rode on the wave. Look back, Migori has changed a great deal. A 25×100 plot in CBD Migori was Kes 2 million then, today you won’t get a plot less Kes 25 million. In the Namba junction outskirt of town stretching to CBD a 100×100 plot was Kes 300k, today nobody will flog you one without Kes 10 million at hand. Land in Migori town is shot up.
In retrospect, leaving employment prematurely & abruptly was a blessing. My Kes 6 million retirement benefit wouldn’t get me an acre of land that the hotel sits on today. Would need Kes 20 to 30 million, yet I spent Kes 1 million to acquire the same in dame. The cost of building has shot dramatically.
Migori as a town changed too, and I have grown with it. There’s wasn’t a single swimming pool in this rural town when I forked into it, but today there’s a choice of 6 of them. To hit the spot, you can get pizza, cappuccino, saunas and burgers too. The electricity is more reliable too, though water is still tricky yet Migori is perhaps the richest county in rainfall. Drought here is a rumor. This still foxes me, we got to get our act together.
My 25-year Toyota jalopy a signature in town alive. & kicking. This ain’t hot air, the town streams with 4x4s owned by local folksy. The locals are more discerning with the choice of 20 mid-range hotels, most of them built on last 10 years.
I have aged too, teething 6th floor, am now oldsy. The hotel trees I seeded 15 years ago, have peppered into a lushly forest. I have seen my staff grow, though some have passed on. I can proudly can say am now a town elder, whose opinion matters in the Migori county amongst the Luo & Kuria communities stretching across into Tanzania. I serve as advisor & Board Chair in schools & institutions.
Heart to heart talk, everything has a reason, life like air is everywhere in equal opportunity.
I have touched & transformed many lives in rural Migori. God has blessed me with an avalanche of friends from all communities, am no longer able to freely walk the streets or have a beer in pub without attention. Today Wuod Sakwa is a real son of Migori. Am still quirky in my own way, I play the violin socially & the Migorians have gotten the drift, no longer get stares. Hello?
For city retirees today, I be forewarned us to be forearmed. Rural folk ain’t the daft lot you think they are. They have styled up, put up fancy houses that city folk can’t compete with. They eat well too, and love their groove. A normal Migorian visits sauna twice weekly believe me you. Men here do facials, gyms, aerobics, massage, pedicures, scrubs apart from Wuod Baba. I don’t live for show.
Gussied up, the standard swig here is JW by the bottle. Ladies do wine in fine. Let me warn you, nobody here sells whisky in tots. Take or leave, in many eateries they won’t sell you less than half a chicken. Anyone ordering less than that they reckon is a miser, you must order food too for those who might stumble by.
Few Migorians yearn for the Nairobi city, great guns going there gigs & digs are right here. Gold has transformed their lives. Let me tell the great unwashed, the city my dudes ain’t everything. Keep body & soul together, the rural areas & tertiary towns offer you an opportunity of fresh start in business with less capital & less competition.
To kiss & tell, Western & Nyanza is the place to be, crime ain’t high, you can live peacefully even at your farms. You can pump the innovation you learnt in the city & waterfall it back into the rural towns and make your buck yet live in the cheap & gig quality.
Breathing fresh air, gobbling real road runners. Even the local changaa here is quality brewed from sugar juice. The girlies here ain’t the hard dictator types who wrench your pocket dry for a smile, our girlies are better endowed & treat a bloke like what is meant to be, a king in ping. A happy hunting ground, no lassie here blackmails you in rogue. Hang loose, retirement doesn’t mean going to the dogs.
Migori County has very few people teething 60s, AIDs cleared my genre, especially men. You’ll hardly come across that age group as you preen Migori. In many ways, in 15 years have been here, put Migori on the world map thro penning my journal. Self employment popped me to discover my other talent, writing. It gave me the freedom to do the other things I love. It also gave me the opportunity to be me.
15 years is a generation, as I trot into 2026, my instinct tells me that I have another calling. I feel it in my bones. I don’t really know what it is but the feeling is real. You gotta believe life is just another bowl of cherries.
You can fork into my memoirs & thoughts in my book “I cleansed the tears”.
#OkwiriMyjournalMythoughtsMywalk
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