It’s Everything – Fiction By Kenyan Writer, Jeremy Leariwala

“Because It Means and Includes the Earth…”

Riding at a breakneck speed, Halkano covered a considerable distance within an hour and a half before encountering an obstruction. He picked his way, using his feet to maintain balance and his hands for steering; just a brief moment of a tricky manoeuvre through a herd of camels’ leisurely cat-walking across their path. An informed traveller would have concluded the camels were out to mock the wildebeests of the Mara River. Their dark-stained thighs saturated the atmosphere with a strong smell of urine that invigorated him. Having been a camel herder, time and traditions have taught him that a camel is a prestigious and valuable asset: a source of food, medicine, dowry, respect and many more. The stench tickled his nasal senses and awakened some emotional bonds of connection.

Once free of the humped animals Halkano raved up his 250cc engine, picking up speed along the too-familiar road. Rain or sunshine, and as the trip leader, they had to roll into the border town of Moyale by evening. He led his team of eleven members on various models of roaring-two-wheelers, along the highway to Cairo, eager to explore his hometown where he was born, bred and schooled.

In the team was Archer, a typical city boy from the Eastlands’ Donholm Estate. Stuck behind their leader, he maintained speed while feasting his eyes on the panoramic vistas endowed with unique natural features and wildlife. To him, other than the rising temperatures or the deceitful mirage simmering on the road surface, the trip was turning out to be as exciting & informative as was promised. Even the nomadic people they interacted with were fascinating. But it was the final destination that he looked forward to. Halkano had said that adventure awaited them at Moyale, where they intended to tour for two days as they undertook an annual activity to celebrate the friendship & brotherhood of their small team. Halkano had also raised quite a lot of smoke around the trip, through his popular social media handles given that it was the first time they were travelling there as a group. Other than being slowed down by the camels, the thrill of their speeding motorbikes and the spectacular sights all around, what could be awaiting Archer and friends? Would his cravings for new knowledge be fed or disappointed? All the same, he looked forward to whatever lay ahead.

Shortly around midday, the road led onto a stretch where the trees thinned out like a transition in a movie scene. Tall acacias diminished in numbers until there were none in sight. The roadsides quickly became an expanse of stunted scrubs as far as Archer’s eyes could see. From above, the sun rays pumped heat into his riding suit and his pores sent rivulets of sweat trickling down his body, turning the fabric into a sticky layer on slippery skin. Halkano slowed a little. Someone got level with him and he quickly pushed the shield out of his face. He turned to the individual and shouted;

“This is the desert I told you about. The desert…”

“Ok. The desert!” The rider confirmed, nodding.

Likewise, he fell back to pass the info. Quickly everyone knew they were finally at ‘Kaisut’ desert.

Soon, with the minimal road traffic coupled with the absence of sharp or blind corners, the bikers were flying low.

Something loomed ahead; a conspicuous giant sprouting out of the near bare ground in the distance. The more they progressed, the bigger it got and curiosity overwhelmed Archer.

A small push on the accelerator saw his motorbike race towards Halkano’s side. He turned to their guide and screamed…

“What is that over there?” He asked pointing at it.

“That is everything!” Halkano replied.

“What did you say?” Archer inquired his face awash with confusion.

“It is everything! Everything…”

Halkano’s response made no sense then. Instead of asking more questions, Archer chose to bide his time. Meanwhile, he made a guess, picturing the tall concrete water tower next to Donholm fly-over in Nairobi. What else could an adventurer’s city dweller find in the middle of a desert if not a water tank with a nice Motel sitting below it? And, what would the desert waitresses look like?

***

As the gigantic structure finally unfolded, Archer’s hunger for answers intensified. There was no dispute about its identity. It was a tree. Not just any kind of tree, but the biggest tree he had ever seen, and the only one of its kind in that place, sitting like a forlorn monster with no friends or family. A dark, monstrous hawk was perched on its highest point, possibly spying on the shrubs nearer or further from it.

Halkano kicked down the gear lever in quick successions. About a hundred meters to the tree, he steered it towards the right side of the road, first going over the broken yellow line, and then crossing the solid line before letting it roll along the shoulder. The rest of the team followed cue.

Finally, they drove near the tree and stopped the bikes.

BRAAM-BRAAAM!

“Uuuoooaaaah!” Archer raved his engine and let out a loud shout.

“Uuuuuooooaaahhhh!” A few other voices joined in the ululation…

“That was such a beautiful ride back there…” Archer finally said.

Everyone dismounted and pulled off the helmets. The roar of the bikes must have scared the bird, as it quickly flapped its wings and flew away.

“Ok guys, it is time to take a quick bite of something!” Halkano announced.

Archer grabbed his day pack and followed the rest towards the shade of the tree. Easing his way to the centre, he looked up at the branches. There were about a hundred round nests dangling from the tips of some twigs, probably set there by a community of clever weaver birds. A brief sweep of his eyes picked out a shy dove, on a frail-twiggy-nest nestled on a bough under the cover of some leaves. The ground, a padded sandy carpet, was irresistibly cool and inviting. He chose the base of the tree, longing to lean his back against its trunk. He let the bag fall and…

“Hey man, be aware of the ants!” Someone warned him.

He quickly glanced at the bark. A continuous line of black ants hurrying up or down the trunk caught his attention. Their shining jaws and energetic and aggressive march denied him the privilege to debate whether to sit there or to move away! He took his bag and put two strides between himself and the ants.

That stopover was a deserved and refreshing break. They ate their packed snacks and animatedly shared their observations along the road. A short while later, a passenger bus from Moyale Raha Company arrived from the opposite direction. Just like the bikers, it pulled up beside the road.

Travellers streamed out as soon as the door was swung open. The majority headed straight to the shade. A young man, the conductor, from the unmistakable uniform he adorned, came out with a small, rolled mat wedged under his armpit. The moment Archer set his sights on him, he declared him to be the overall winner of the Big-eyed-man Competition all over East Africa.

“Hamjambo?” the conductor shouted towards the bikers.

“Hatujambo!” they responded, a few waving back at him.

A swarm of screaming sparrows rushed in with the hawk hot in pursuit. They ducked under the canopy, just in time to dodge the hawk that went overhead, hovered a bit then glided away. The bus passengers scattered under the shade, on the unoccupied spots, and each got busy to say the midday prayers. Once done praying, they boarded the bus and it pulled out. The bikers finished eating and packed away their stuff. Time to resume the ride was up: the road ahead of them was still long and to a chap like Archer, chilling in a desert was not a smart idea.

Archer rose and before stepping off, he called out to Halkano.

“Where are these little fellows going to?” He asked, pointing at the trunk of the tree.

“Somewhere on this tree,” Halkano started saying, “there must be a bowl full of water between its branches.”

“Are you for real?”

“Yes, I am. Any time it rains, water collects in the bowl, and…”

Halkano went ahead to expound, “…that water can stay there for quite some time. Those ants must be going up for a drink.”

“Wow. Isn’t that nice?” Archer was amazed.

“That’s nature at its best.” Someone exclaimed.

“Indeed. Mother earth is full of surprises.” Another one concurred.

“True, true my friend,” Archer said picking up his bag. Then, pointing at the tree, he continued, “This is truly everything.”

***

They all piled out heading to their machines. Archer was some paces away from his motorcycle when his relaxed mind popped aglow. He froze in his tracks!

“Oh my God!” He cried out; eyes widened and lips trembling in shock…

“What is it?” The nearest of them inquired, voicing everyone’s concern.

“We forgot the…” Archer nearly screamed out the words.

“… the CAMERA!” Halkano sang out the name ‘camera’ in unison with Archer.

The HandyCam was left charging at the reception desk of the guest house. They were to pick it up before checking out, but no one remembered. Archer felt like smashing his head against the ground for such a silly mistake. In a flash, Halkano raked up a solution. Every second that ticked away counted if his plan of action was to work for them. He spun around and dashed the few steps to his bike.

Swiftly, he flung his left leg over the seat and secured his helmet before he kicked off the stand.

“Wait for me here!” He shouted as the engine roared alive.

Clutch in, gear kicked in too and off he went. He turned the bike onto the road. Before long, he disappeared towards the direction they had come from. No one knew what he was up to, but that camera was too expensive and such a resourceful device to leave behind. Only 16 minutes elapsed while he was away.

Halkano came back riding at the craziest speed possible. They proceeded with the last leg of their journey northwards. Later that evening, the camera found them in Moyale, thanks to the efforts of the Big Eyes Champion.