Stranger in The Mist

The Savanna may cover half of the African continent, but it can be one of the most inhospitable areas when travelling through it and especially when there is a war. Like Karen Blixen, I, Joanna Huxtable, lived in British East Africa but did not have a farm at the foot of the Ngong Hills and lived in the area of Kijabe, northwest, of what was at the time, the land of swamps, known as Nairobi, with my husband Charles Huxtable. He worked in a law firm in the town and was always busy meeting people and didn’t have much time for me and left me at home, on my own, every day. I was bored!
My neighbour, Elizabeth Tomlinson, who lived a just a few miles down the road, was not much of a company but was a nice person to be with. Every afternoon, she would come over to my house and we would sit on the veranda and have some tea and sandwiches as we would sit and – well, just talk.
“War has been declared with Germany,” she told me, one day, as we sipped some tea together.
By this, she meant the First World War.
“Surely not,” I replied, rather surprisingly, “I mean the Kaiser and Queen Victoria are said to be cousins.”
“That may be but we are,” she said.
Just as I was about to say what I thought about it, something caught my eye. There was dust in the air as a soldier came galloping in the distance and then stopped on the sandy, dusty road outside and turned towards us.
“By the order of Sir Henry Conway Belfield, all women and children are to be moved into Nairobi where they can be protected,” he informed us, as he showed us a piece of paper, “Please start packing your belongings and be down there soon.”
“What about the men?” I asked.
“Those enlisted will know what to do and those who are not can become volunteers and help,” replied the soldier, as he turned around and cantered away.
There was panic all around and soon the whole place was full of people. This did nothing to make me feel excited. Charles had gone off as a volunteer somewhere south of the colony and I was left alone with strangers. One day, I heard that a group of volunteers, based at Lake Magadi, in the south, had requested for some supplies to be sent but there was no one willing to go down. So I, in the hope of getting some excitement and adventure, as well as hoping to meet Charles, said that I would go. At first, I faced a lot of objections as I was a female but then I was also determined and stubborn.
With everything packed and the cattle and carts, stacked and full of supplies, I, with some men and with some of my African servants, left Nairobi. During the day time, we rode but as evening approached, I would order Kinuthia, one of my servants, to go ahead and find a place for us to camp for the night.
“They told me it would take three days to reach Lake Magadi,” I said to myself, as I slept in my tent, “But it’s been four days now.”
Suddenly I heard a lion roar and the cattle became restless. Fearing that they would be attacked, I jumped with a fully loaded rifle in my hands and in the dark, tried to see where the animal was. In the chaos that followed, one cow was killed and several wounded as well as much of the supplies ruined. This became apparent in the morning, as the sun began to rise with a low mist. I felt helpless, as I surveyed the damage and looked up at the skies to pray for divine help
“Who is he?” I asked my servant Kinuthia, as I looked in the distance and saw a figure, walking, on air, towards us.
“God,” replied Kinuthia.
It soon became clear. The stranger, wearing khaki clothes, a hat and carrying a rifle, was a man with light brown eyes and blonde hair.
“You need to head in a south westerly direction,” he told us, later, after I told him where we were heading.
He took out a golden, brown, coloured compass and placed it my dirty, yellow, hands.
“Keep this,” he said, “Your compass doesn’t work!”
With that, he got up and ordered his Masai men to follow him.
“How do I return it to you?” I asked, as I thought about returning the compass.
“No need to,” he replied, as he walked away, “But if you want to, then give it to Charles. He will know where to find me. By the way, it will take you three days to reach Lake Magadi”
With that he vanished, as if he didn’t exist. Truly, three days later, I was with my husband and the other members of the volunteer force. When I told Charles about what the stranger had said, he said.
“I don’t know who you are talking about!”
This mystified me and when I returned to Nairobi, I tried to find the stranger but no one knew who he was and where he lived. To this date, I Joanna Huxtable, don’t know who the stranger was and never saw him again and I still have that compass, locked away, so that one day I can return it to him.