I talk properly to the askaris – night guards – for the first time, now that my own askari has come. I ask them to write their names, and Samuel, the older one with the really terrible teeth – brown and sticking out like Meg the witch’s (the brown comes from too much flouride in drinking water, a common problem in Kenya – funny when we in the West are always trying to add flouride to our children’s teeth) writes SAMWEL MBELE MUNGUTI in bold capitals. But Joseph turns away and says he will bring his ID card. He is not able to write at all. Not even his name. He looks about 15, which means he’s probably 30, and comes from Samburu land in northern Kenya, a region of desert and camels, beads and warriors. Not schools. It is a long time since I’ve met anyone who can’t write a word. Still, he does speak two languages, Kiswahili and Samburu, neither of which I have mastered, which makes for an interesting conversation ten minutes of conversation.
Lives together, cultures apart
I take it Askaris means-night guard- just like you put it? It’s interesting that you need a night guard. What do they do? The night guards? I’d imagine it’s pretty self explanatory but I’d like to know more. Do they all look young in Kenya? I like how you think the man who looks 15 is probably 30.