Amanda Namayi

“Unapenda ndizi?” (Do you like bananas?) He asked.

I responded in the affirmative.

“Basi baki na mimi na hutawahi kosa ndizi.” (Then stay with me and you will never lack bananas.)

I was flattered.

The young lad, the farm-hand, had walked up to me and perched himself next to where I was seated on the ground. He was charismatic and oozed the confidence of a fighter bull. His hands were caked in mud and his clothes matched the repertoire.

I was enthused by the boldness of the farmhand; many a city boy would not muster enough courage to audaciously sit right next to me in the middle of a photo shoot. Perhaps it was because he wanted to shoot his shot? Pun intended. 😉 In the (in)famous words of TID, a Tanzanian Bongo artist, “….who is this guy? why between my interview you are passing around?…” If you do not understand the reference, then you need to watch this clip. Haha! Unlike TID though, I was not vexed; it was quite the contrary.

He made me laugh as he told me about the farm he was tilling. I listened intently; his English interwoven with Swahili, and his Swahili interwoven with Kikuyu. Communication at best. Understanding at ease. He was looking forward to a bumper harvest, and hoped that the rains wouldn’t drown the crop like in the previous season.

I had gone to check the drip installation set up by Irrihub at their demo farm and learn more about their advancement to an IOT platform.

I had the honour of having the walk-through done by the co-founder himself, Eric Onchonga, who showed me the different irrigation solutions they provide.

So when I say that the young lad had interrupted something serious you believe me now, huh? 😛

Eric and I had been walking for most of the day and I had taken a break to sit and catch my breath at the banana patch.

It was at that moment that Muranguri, our superstar farm-hand, came and sat next to me. He asked me my name after he told me his, and asked what took me to the farm that day. He told me of the exhausting day he’d had, and how he spent it applying top dressing.

The farm had different portions; each section with a different crop, and at different stages. Muranguri spoke with such sincerity of heart. He wanted me to stay. One thing that would have been assured if I chose to stay with him, is that there would always be food.

Going to the farm is always an experience worth immortalizing.

There is something almost sacred about the farm; is it the wholesomeness of the soil or the acrid smell of the manure? Is it the bleating of the sheep reminiscent of the first sounds that baby Jesus heard when He was placed in the manger? What is it about the farm?

Enchanting. Enlightening. Empowering.

For me that day, it was the young lad; tending to his sweet bananas and looking for his sweet love. ❤

Amanda Namayi