The violation of the Kenyan paradise I loved
One can only imagine the horror of the attack on David and Judith Tebbutt on their first night in Kiwayu Safari Village. Not only has this poor woman had her husband murdered in front of her but she has been dragged off into the night, knowing full well the plight of Paul and Rachel Chandler, held for more than a year by Somali pirates.
I lived on the island of Kiwayu, across a narrow channel from the Safari Village, for several years, where my husband ran a camp and we lived a Robinson Crusoe life fishing for our food and drinking brackish water from a shallow well. Aside from us, the resort was the remotest hotel on the Kenyan coast.
Located on the mainland in a crescent bay, at the northern end of the low-lying Lamu archipelago, it has individual thatch cabins with no glass in the windows and beaded shells for doors. With its own airstrip, Kiwayu Safari Village is closer to the Somali border than it is to Lamu Town, 40 miles to the south by boat. By car from Lamu would take a full day (three, in wet conditions) as any road, in the normal understanding of the word, does not exist. The only other town in the area is Kiunga, the border post.
The population is minimal: on the mainland is a tiny, endangered tribe of honey-hunters called the Boni, and living on the scattered islands are the Bajuni; crab fishermen. It is a heart-stoppingly beautiful place with extraordinary birdlife, pristine water for snorkelling, excellent fishing and a night sky punctuated by shooting stars.
It is also "Shifta" country. Shifta is the local name for the bandits who traditionally roam south from Somalia to prey on their gentler neighbours. The border here and for hundreds of miles is merely a word.
The Kenyans fear Somalis - and understandably: they are bellicose, armed and usually high on miraa or khat, a narcotic. Experienced expats embarking on far-flung safaris are loath to take armed protection because all that happens is the guard's weapon attracts passing Shifta and gets meekly handed over.
In a country where every walker must beware of lion, buffalo, snakes and leopard, around Kiwayu by far the most worrying thing to see is a booted footprint.
Kiwayu Safari Village has six armed police and more than 20 guards of its own. Nearby is a Kenyan Wildlife Services base filled with soldiers. But the army is also terrified of Somalis and the hotel is a regular target. It has been raided at least three times in previous years and in one, a guard was shot.
In a failed state with no rule of law, where the growing famine is exacerbated by the Islamist Al-Shabaab's ("The Lads") habit of killing aid workers and where foreign fishing fleets take advantage of the general chaos by plundering the fishing grounds, all that remains for a Somali with any entrepreneurial streak is robbery and kidnap.
Who knows what happened in the dark of Sunday night but local security failed to foil the raid. In previous attacks, the gunmen have simply helped themselves to guests' possessions and the contents of the safe. This time they have also stolen two lives, one permanently; let us pray the other one is returned soon.
