In July, 1846, pioneering missionary Ludwig Krapf struggled to attend to his ailing, bed-ridden wife.
Krapf had suffered a debilitating fever and so had his wife, Mrs. Dietrich Krapf, who was in a worse state....
She had days earlier given birth to a baby girl at their budding Rabai mission.
Hours to her death, she asked Krapf to bury her right there at Rabai, saying she needed her remains to "constantly remind the passersby of the great object which...
...had brought the servants of the church of Christ to their country...."
Krapf would much later write that his wife "wished to be preaching to them by the lonely spot which encloses her earthly remains."
On the morning of Saturday, 13th July 1846, she breathed her last. Weak from fever, Krapf himself could hardly get up from his bed. He looked on helplessly as she faded away every moment, her pale eyes and recoiling body telling him only too well that she was gone...
On the next morning, a Sunday, they buried her. Krapf just managed to struggle over to the graveside. On his return, he found that his baby daughter also was ill. She passed away during the night, and was laid to rest by her mother's side.
The double tragedy must have undoubtedly inflicted quite a heavy blow on the German missionary's spirits. Yet amidst the ordeal, Krapf found the energy to write a defiant letter to his employer, the Church Missionary Society.
"Tell the committee that in East Africa there is a lonely grave of one member of the mission connected with your society....
...this is an indication that you have begun the conflict in this part of the world; and since the conquests of the church are won over the graves...
...of many of its members, you may be all the more assured that the time has come when you are called to work for the conversion of Africa. Think not of the victims who in this glorious warfare may suffer or fall; only press forward until East & West Africa are united in Christ."
Ironically, the loss of Krapf's wife meant that he could now focus on the mission for which he had been consecrated, preaching to the Wanyika, teaching their kids basic reading and writing, and even starting work on a Kiswahili translation of the Bible.
In his missionary work, Krapf had brushes with death a number of times. And if he survived, as he did several times, there was evidently a celestial hand, albeit invisible, insulating him from fate.
Soon after the death of his wife, he felt strong and healthy again. He decided to make a journey to Ukambani, about 100 miles from Rabai, to start a further mission station.
But, midway, the journey ended in disaster. While he was travelling in company with a helpful native chief, some warriors - he doesn't state in his memoirs from which tribal force - attacked the chief and his retinue of followers.
The chief was slain, his followers were scattered, and the missionary, who was spared, suddenly found himself abandoned by both friend and foe.
Suffering from hunger and thirst, Krapf tried to retrace his bearing and at last reached a Wakamba village in a state of...
...complete exhaustion.
Afraid that villagers would plot to kill him, he fled in the dead of night towards Yatta. But, still, he wasn't sure the path he had set himself on was the right one and, in despair, returned to the same village at dawn after trudging for a few miles.
"Kill me if you will," he said, "but you must take the consequences."
On the other hand, if they allowed him to live in peace, he promised to give them a portion of the property he had left behind at Yatta. To this the villagers agreed.
Krapf made good his promise and was allowed to head coastwards, arriving at Rabai after nine days' travelling, to the great joy of his mission assistants, who were already convinced that he was dead.
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#RIPJosephKamaru: The curtain falls on the life of legendary Gîkûyû benga musician Joseph Kamaru, following a long illness.
This is the man whose debut 1969 hit track, Darling ya Mwarîmû (teacher’s darling), caused a storm in parliament and in the national teachers’ union, who threatened to go on strike.
It took Mzee Kenyatta’s intercession to put the storm to rest.
He composed hundreds of gîkûyû songs throughout his lifetime. In 1989, he released the track Safari ya Japan shortly after his return from the Asian country, where he had accompanied Kamaru retired President Moi on a state visit.
#HistoryKeThread: Seen here conferring with then President Moi, Mr. Burudi Nabwera is a former diplomat, MP, Asst. Minister and later not only Secretary General of KANU in its heydays, but also a Minister for State.
Last year, the alumnus of Makerere University released his biography, ‘How It Happened’, a book that should be a good read for anyone interested in the politics of Kenya during the single-party era.
On 7th of October 1990, Mr. Nabwera caused a stir when he announced that the government would not prosecute anyone for the murder of former minister Robert Ouko. The report by Scotland Yard’s detective John Troon, Nabwera argued, had not named any killers.
In 1890, author Thomas Stevens authored the book, Scouting for Stanley.
The book is an account of the time Thomas spent in East Africa, where he had been sent to join in the search for legendary explorer Henry Morton Stanley.
In April of 1898, he camped at Ndara Hill among the Wataita. Here, a Rev. Wray of the Church Mission Society strived to teach the Wataita with much difficulty about the gospel of Christ. Perhaps this difficulty is what led Rev. Wray to dabble in farming.
#HistoryKeThread: When Colonial Officials Adopted Locals As Mistresses
Hell hath no fury like a randy colonial officer stationed miles away from conjugal comfort.
In the early colonial years, the Governors' subordinates were initially men taken over from Imperial British EA Company (IBEAC). Later on, a professional class of colonial civil servants was recruited to take up the many administrative positions opening up in the colony.
Many of the officers had hardly gone beyond the age of 30.
As such, they invariably found themselves sexually starved and lonely. That is, if they didn't have African mistresses.
After Kinoo, westwards along the Nairobi-Nakuru highway is a place called Karûri. It was named after Agîkûyû chief Karûri wa Gakure, who actually hailed from Kangema in present-day Murang'a county.
Chief Karûri made trading trips from his village, trudging with his caravan along the edge of the Aberdares towards Kikuyu mostly, and at times Kijabe and Naivasha.
Interestingly, Field Marshal Mbaria Kaniu followed the same route from Kangema to lead the #MauMau massacre at Lari.