Mombasa: the Portuguese period

 

The Portuguese-built Fort Jesus in Mombasa

(An excerpt from Edward Corcoran's Mombasa Mission

 1888-1990 Part Two)

As far as Christianity is concerned, the first stirrings seem to have been in the island of Socotra in the northern part of the Indian Ocean. We have alluded to a description of St Francis Xavier's visit there. Christianity was brought there by Christian Arabs as early as 524 AD when Cosmas Indicopleustes visited the island. We cannot say why missionary activity did not radiate from there, nor is there any trace of any penetration of Christianity further south on the well-defined trade route along the East Coast of Africa.

 

What Christianity remained on the island itself was in a sorry state when St Francis Xavier called there. There was no longer a bishop or an ordained clergy; the inhabitants "...are Christians in their own opinion", according to Francis, "and pride themselves on having Christian names to prove it; they have churches and crosses and lamps; their 'clerics' do not know how to read or write; they know a lot of prayers by heart; they go to church at midnight, in the morning, at the hour of Vespers and in the evening at Compline time; the people are followers of St Thomas; these clerics do not baptise nor do they know what baptism is". Many of them implored Francis to remain with them and to introduce them to baptism and the Mass, but the Governor would not allow him to remain for fear of the Turks who used to come to this island, and who probably would make Francis prisoner. So he set sail and left behind him what we might call only a vestige of Christianity.

 

Returning to the southern shores of the Indian Ocean, we find that the first sign of a settled clergy was at Kilwa in 1505. In that year Francisco d' Almeida erected a fort there and left behind two Franciscan priests as chaplains to the soldiers. The following year forty men and women asked for baptism. The Sultan forbade it but the captain of the garrison recorded in a report, "It appeared to me that I ought not deny them the water of baptism".

The Kilwa settlement was dismantled in 1512 as unprofitable, and thereafter no more is heard of the Franciscans there. Presumably, they left with the Portuguese - a foretaste of what was to happen later in all the Portuguese settlements along the East Coast and a clear warning of the dangers involved in tying missionary activity to the apron strings of the civil authority. In 1554, the Viceroy of Goa gave instructions for the preaching of the Gospel in Mombasa, but when the Jesuit Fr Monclaro visited there in 1569 nothing had been done. It was not until the Portuguese had completed the building of Fort Jesus at Mombasa in 1596, thus making Mombasa their main settlement along the coast, that any serious effort was made in the field of evangelisation, however meagre and short-lived its results were to be.

 

Augustinian Canons were sent from Goa and by 1598 we find them at Faza, Pate and Lamu, but only the foundation at Faza had any permanency.

In 1606 a Franciscan, Gaspar da Santo Bernardino, visited the Augustinians there and found the Muslim King favourable to Christianity. The reason for his favourable disposition was that ". . . while I had no Christian church in my city, I lived in fear. Now, however, I live well content in peace because in the Church I have walls which guard my city, and in the Fathers, soldiers to defend it". By a stretch of the imagination, might we call this situation an example of the Church Militant? In 1624 another Franciscan, Jerome Lobo, visited Faza and celebrated the Holy Week ceremonies there with the four resident Augustinians and seventy Christians. Missionary work seems to have begun somewhat later on the island of Zanzibar and it is not until 1634 that we hear mention of a little church there. Little detail of its history has come down to us, and a veil is drawn over this important island's connection with Christianity, not to be removed for over two hundred years.

Finally, in our search for the earliest gropings of Christianity for a foothold in these parts, let us return to Mombasa which had now become the most important settlement of the Portuguese north of Mozambique. In 1599 we find four Augustinians there and they were able to report some six hundred converts, among them the exiled King of Pemba. As regards the Portuguese, as well as the soldiers in the garrison, there were up to fifty civilian families living at any one time in the Mombasa Christian community, bringing its total probably to something in the region of a thousand. We should note that a large number of soldiers in the garrisons were from Goa.

The civilians grouped themselves in what we would today call a ghetto in the area directly opposite the Fort down a street known as La Rapozeira, or Foxhole, which would appear to follow the line of the present-day Njia Kuu. Their most substantial buildings were a Customs House, an Augustinian Monastery (one of seven originally dotted around the island) and the parish church of the Misericordia which was the centre for the Fraternity of the Misericordia, an organisation of the laity which provided care of widows, orphans and poor converts.

 

Thus, in the early seventeenth century things looked rosy in Mombasa's ecclesiastical garden until 1631 when tragedy struck. In 1600, the Portuguese had made the son of the King of Malindi the new King of Mombasa. Apparently, he did not come up to Portuguese expectations as their puppet king and in 1614 he was murdered, apparently at the instigation of the Portuguese Governor. Seemingly as a gesture of reconciliation to the bereaved family, the King of Portugal ordered that the murdered King's son should be taken to Goa to be given the best education and training available with a view to his returning to Mombasa eventually to be a well accomplished monarch. He was baptised there and was known as Dom Jeronimo Chingulia. Having married a noble Portuguese lady, he was ready to return to Mombasa to take up his throne. He did so in 1627 and shortly afterwards wrote a letter of obedience to the Pope.

A Swahili history of the period says of him : "He had been brought up among the Portuguese; he ate pork like them; he ruled in a most tyrannical manner; he compelled the people to eat pork, and was wicked, and an infidel". He seems to have been an unstable personality and to have had successive quarrels with the commanders of the Fort. He secretly reverted to Islam, a fact that came to light in 1631. Before the Portuguese commander, who had been informed of the situation, had time to act, Chingulia took matters into his own hands.  On August 15th, the Feast of the Assumption 1631, he visited the Fort on the pretext of paying a complimentary feast day visit to the commander whose throat he promptly slit. There followed a general massacre of the Christian population who were given the choice of embracing Islam, as he had done, or death. It is not within the scope of this brief history of Christianity in East Africa to describe the massacre of the Mombasa martyrs. Further reading on the matter is referred to in the bibliography. For reasons which are not too clear, the cause for the canonisation of these Mombasa martyrs was never concluded, but there is no doubt that many died a heroic death in defence of their faith. It is difficult to quote reliable statistics, but it would seem that very few, about fifty, embraced Islam; three hundred died for their faith, and four hundred were sent to Mecca as slaves. In 1632 Chingulia himself fled and the Portuguese once more took possession of the island. But the massacre had sounded the death knell for Christianity in these parts.

 

The hatred and animosity which had existed all along between Arab and Christian had now been rekindled, never to die down again as long as the Portuguese remained. The hold which the latter had after the flight of Chingulia was tenuous to say the least, and the remainder of the seventeenth century saw nothing but the violence of attack and counter-attack, capture and re-capture. A further menace to the Portuguese arrived when the Omani Arabs attacked their settlements. The Imam of Muscat captured Mombasa from them in 1660, having as part of his fleet two captured Portuguese galleons. The Fort held out, however, and gradually the Portuguese took over again.

 

The beginning of the end came in 1696 when a force of three thousand Omani Arabs under the Imam Saif Bin Sultan, approaching the Fort from Kilindini mlango, and not head-on from the sea, laid siege to it - a siege that was to last for thirty-three months. At one point during the siege, reinforcements arrived from Goa, but they brought the plague with them. This was as devastating as the occasional Arab attacks. By early December 1698 only the commander, eight Portuguese soldiers, three Indians, two African women and an African boy remained alive inside the Fort. The walls of the San Mateus bastion were scaled on the night of December 12th, but the gallant little group held out until the next morning. The commander was killed and the remainder surrendered. That was the end of Portuguese power in this part of the world. With a dying gasp, they recaptured the Fort for a brief period in 1728-29, and then the gasp turned into a death rattle. Their power was replaced by that of the Omani Arabs who set up Walis or Governors in the settlements up and down the Coast.

The first Wali of Mombasa was Nasir bin Abdulla of the powerful Mazrui family which consolidated the Arab hold on the island of Zanzibar and the coastal mainland until the arrival of the British. Their first contact with Mombasa was in 1824 when they declared a short-lived (until 1 826) Protectorate of Mombasa and flew the Union Jack over the Fort.

Needless to say, this period of violence and counter-violence between the Portuguese and Arabs ever since 1631 did not augur well for the spread, nor indeed for the survival of Christianity. As a religion it was associated with the foreign oppressor and by that very fact alone, leaving aside clashing eliefs, not welcome. When the Portuguese disappeared from the scene, so also did Christianity. Apart from that, the Augustinian clergy that came along with the Portuguese could hardly be called missionary priests. There is no evidence of their trying to leave the settlements; they were not "bushwhackers"; they ministered to the Portuguese soldiers and civilians and their converts were those who came to them - in many cases probably soldiers, many of the garrison being locals, servants and so on. It is useless trying to surmise what might have happened if the Mombasa massacre had not taken place. Here we cannot play the "what if?" game. We have to wait till the middle of the nineteenth century to witness the next stirrings of Christian life beginning with the shores of Zanzibar.

Let us finish this chapter by seeing what vestiges there are at the Coast of the Portuguese Period. First and foremost, of course, is the formidable Fort they built overlooking the approach to Mombasa, and which they simply called Fort Jesus. It is the best-preserved of all the Portuguese buildings, and one has only to visit it to see why. Building commenced in 1593 and was completed in 1596 by which time it presented an imposing sight to any would-be invaders. Its cannons peeping out through the emplacements in the immensely thick walls commanded the whole of the approach to Mombasa across the Creek to present-day English Point. It is today Mombasa's main tourist attraction. If you follow the coastline south from the Fort, you will come across two Portuguese ruins. The first is the Fort of St Joseph situated on the cliffs opposite the lighthouse. Part of the wall facing the ocean is still quite intact with its slits for the cannons. The French saying that "The more things change, the more they remain the same" is borne out by the fact that right alongside the Fort are the gun emplacements built by the British during the Second World War to safeguard Mombasa from enemy warships and

submarines.

 

Continuing further along the coast one meets the ruins of one of the seven original chapels of the Portuguese Augustinian priests. This was the Chapel of Our Lady of Good Hope; all that remains of it are three or four heaps of masonry. Finally, here and there in the area around Njia Kuu and Mbarak Hinawy Roads there are signs of solid coral foundations which could easily have been those of original Portuguese buildings. The only other Portuguese monuments surviving are in Malindi. The more famous of these is the Vasco da Gama Pillar situated on a small promontory going southwards from the town. This was erected — on a different site, however, by Vasco da Gama on his return journey from Goa in 1498-99. It has a small cross on the top with the King of Portugal's Coat of Arms etched on it. Nearer the town along the coast road there is the Portuguese Chapel. Mark Horton of Cambridge

University wrote a report on it as part of a study for the National Museums of Kenya. He dates it between 1508 and 1512, which "... probably makes it the earliest Portuguese building surviving in East and Southern Africa". Until quite recently, Mass was offered in this little chapel twice yearly, on April 7th, the date of St Francis Xavier's arrival in Malindi, and December 3rd, his feast day. All these monuments and ruins are now in the care of the National Museums of Kenya

Rest in Peace Andrew Scott

The Scott family

THE next time the Friday Club meets in Sydney, there will be a glass empty, permanently, in memory of Andrew Scott who passed away on May 30, 2022. I first met Andrew in Nairobi, Kenya, during the early 1950s. Andrew had given one my best friends at the time a job at Gestetner when Andrew was a kingpin, especially in the servicing area. I am convinced, that even with the demands of ageing, he really did not change very much. He remained true to himself.

He was above everything a perfectionist: he dressed impeccably, his hair shone with Brylcream and did not have a hair out of place, and the skin on his face shone too, thanks to Ponds vanishing cream (he felt out of sorts when it was not available in Australia) and I think Old spice added a kind of spice to his persona. Naturally, his clothes were always fresh, impeccably pressed and crisp. More often than not, he wore a suit and tie to any party or function he attended. He was impeccable. He was stylish.

For many years loved his Resches Dinner Ale long necks. Broke his heart when the brewery discontinued them.

He also loved singing and playing his guitar. Even in his 70s he would pick up the microphone and belt some old favourites at parties and dances.

He was meticulous in everything he cooked. Naturally, it was quite brilliant. The onions in a chicken curry had to be fried on a slow fire, stirred occasionally until soft, then and only then the tomatoes were added to the dish with the ginger and garlic and a little later the spices. He was fussy to say the least but the ultimate rewards in taste were quite brilliant.

I would like to think the attention to detail and the need for perfection was born after he mastered the art of calligraphy in writing, mainly italics and his friends pestered him every time they needed invitations to a party or a function. He fussed quite a bit but we knew he enjoyed it too. After all, he was quite brilliant at it too.

Above all, he was a master printer. With his brother, Leslie, they had a printing outfit at home for a long while. He was the man in charge of the print shop at a North Shore council. Everybody loved him there and when he retired there were quite a lot of tears.

His love of printing began in Nairobi where he was in charge of the Gestetner duplicating machine outfit. When he and his family had to leave Kenya, Gestetner brought to their branch in Sydney. He was always a top hand.

He was broken-hearted naturally after his wife Claudia passed away a few years ago. He visited her grave and put fresh flowers there once or twice a week and sometimes more. He befriended many of the families who visited the cemetery. Ironically, he had a fall at the cemetery and lay there for quite a while before help came and rescued him.

Virtually everything he did, he did it his way (as the song goes). He was recovering in hospital from another fall and complications thereof. He did not want to spend any time in a rehab centre, old folks’ home or anything like that. He got his wish.

During the twilight of his life, when walking any great distance was too much of a health risk, he sit in the shopping malls and watch the world go by.

He and Claudia were blessed with three children: Michael, Jeannie and Neil. He had two brothers Bernard (Enem) and Leslie (Rineth) and two sisters Maria the eldest and the younger sister Patricia. The three of them and their extended families were pretty close to them. There are many other families that Andrew spent time with, especially at Christmas and other public holidays when they all got together for a bring-a-dish lunch. He belonged to several groups of friends. Our condolences to all of them.

Each of us who were his friends suffered his loss but we are thankful the Good Lord granted him his wish and ended his pain and suffering.  He knew none of us would ever forget him in prayer and every time a glass is raised anywhere, any time or we yearn for one of his curries, samosas or this and that.

 

With All our prayers from the Friday Club and all our friends who knew and loved you Andrew: Tony Reg and Rebecca, Loy, Terry and Gitta, Caj and Bernie, Drake and Joanne, Felix and Hazel, Skip ... tears rolling down broken hearts but smiles when we think of the times, the laughs and this and that we had together.

Dickie Burke: everyone's star

 Dickie Burke: everyone’s star

 

The late Dickie and Jim Burke had nine sisters. Their mother was Seychellois and their father a Trinidadian. Dickie was born in Mombasa. He became a sailor and it is no exaggeration to suggest that he might have had a girl in every port. Dickie’s funeral was celebrated in London 3.30 UK time on May 30. It was a quiet, dignified farewell. Messages were read from his daughter, Christina, Peggy, and his two cousins: Nina Logisse and Doris Gunpatrav: One of the sisters, Nina or Doris read a beautiful poem chosen by Kelly and Peggy was Dick’s long time partner (40+ years).

I SPENT most of my early life among the Seychellois and Mauritians in Nairobi, Kenya. In fact, most of the families adopted me as one of their own. I learned Creole and sat and listened to the old men as they stirred the pot making a drink called bakka (not the correct spelling). Of all the guys I met in the communities, there were a few that always stood out: the Bedier boys, Michael, Eddie and Cedric, Brian and Harold Maker, the Bresson boys, the Laval boys, big Louis Vel, even bigger Jim Burke, Brian Fernandez and a host of others. Perhaps the most unforgettable guy was Dickie Burke, the coolest guy with smiling eyes, a face that charmed every girl he came across and he was everybody’s devoted friend. Dickie is now with many of his old friends in heaven.

Dickie was also a ladies’ man, a brilliant dancer, jive, the twist and of course, cheek-to-cheek. He was just a very happy guy not matter what the problem, those eyes sparkled and his cheeks said “Hi!”

 

Kenya’s international football star Alex Fernandes told me how he met up with Dickie again in London. Dickie approached Marjorie at Kings Hospital in London. Dickie was there dealing with cancer. Marjorie being pretty good looking caught his eye and they caught talking and Dickie asked if she knew a chap called Alex Fernandes from Nairobi. “He is my brother,” she told him, and his eyes lit up like Christmas lights and it was not very long before the two friends met up. Alex would make sure Dickie came to every Goan function they went to in London. Dickie was crazy about the Goan dish called Sorpatel (a pork curry) and, of course, prawn curry. In any case, Dickie had known so many of the Goan sportsmen and women in Nairobi, that we all thought he was half-Goan anyway.

Dickie may not always have had money bulging in his pockets (the opposite may have been true) but he would have given the shirt of his back to a friend.

He was one of those truly great soccer players never to have played for Kenya. He played for the Seychelles United, the glamour team started, I think, by the Laval boys, Roving Rovers, International Harvester and the premier Nairobi Heroes with whom he toured Mozambique, Tanzania and one or two other places. He was a goalkeeper, but he also played in the backline and anywhere else he was needed. He was very stylish. Tall, lithe and nimble, he would fly off to the left or to the right like a mini rocket.

Talking about meeting with the Goans, Alex mentioned to Dickie that Dr Ribeiro Goan School ex-students were planning an annual reunion in Toronto, Canada. Guess what? There he was in the hall in Toronto beaming from ear to ear … Alex and his wife Dahlia were stunned but they loved every moment with Dickie.

In fact, Alex was planning to catch up Dickie because there was a function coming up soon. Sadly, he never got the chance.

I met him on two occasions in London, both were the St Teresa’s schools’ reunions in London. On each occasion, we yarned, laughed, and drank, a long time after it was time to go. Now we are left with only the memories, unforgettable memories of a wonderful guy. He had his flaws, but then again, who doesn’t.

Enjoy the music up there.

 

 

 

KISUMU, early history!

 

I am attempting to write an early history of Kisumu, mainly about its communities, sports and entertainment. I am hoping to do this with a little help from my Kisumu friends who are now all over the diaspora.

God Willing

WOULD LOVE TO READ YOUR MEMORIES!

THE HISTORY

Kisumu was located on a rocky ridge covered with thorn bush before it was cleared and roads were cut,” so wrote Charles Hobley a colonial administrator in 1900. On 20 December 1901, Florence Preston the wife of the engineer drove the last nail in the last sleeper by the shores of Lake Victoria and Port Florence came into being. However, it was only called Port Florence for a year, and then it reverted to its original Luo name – Kisumu, meaning a place to look for food. The English statesman Winston Churchill visited Kisumu in 1907.

 

Kisumu was identified by the British explorers in early 1898 as an alternative railway terminus and port for the Uganda railway, then under construction. It was to replace Port Victoria, then an important centre on the caravan trade route, near the delta of River Nzoia.

 

Kisumu was ideally located on the shores of Lake Victoria at the cusp of the Winam Gulf, at the end of the caravan trail from Pemba, Mombasa, Malindi and had the potential for connection to the whole of the Lake region by steamers. In July 1899, the first skeleton plan for Kisumu was prepared. This included landing places and wharves along the northern lakeshore, near the present-day Airport Road. Demarcations for Government buildings and retail shops were also included in the plan.

 

Another plan was later prepared in May 1900, when plots were allocated to a few European firms as well as to Indian traders who had travelled to Kisumu on contracts to build the Uganda Railway and had decided to settle at the expanding terminus.

 

The plan included a flying boat jetty (now used by the Fisheries Department). In October 1900, the 62-ton ship Sir William Mackinnon, 1st Baronet, built and registered in Kisumu, made its maiden voyage to Entebbe, marking the beginning of the Lake Marine Services. The Winfred and the Sybil were later added to the fleet in 1902 and 1904, respectively.

 

On Friday, December 20, 1901, the railway line reached the Kisumu pier, with the centre adopting a new name, Port Florence.

 

By February, the railway line had been opened for goods and passenger transportation. Kisumu was also privileged to host the first flight in East and Central Africa; the current police workshop was the first hangar in Kenya and entire East Africa. Before the jet airline era, the city was a landing point on the British flying boat passenger and mail route from Southampton to Cape Town. Kisumu also linked Port Bell to Nairobi.

 

In the meantime, it was realized that the site originally chosen for the township north of the Nyanza Gulf was unsuitable for the town’s expansion, due to its flat topography and poor soils. An alternative site was therefore identified, and the town’s location moved to the ridge on the southern shore of the Gulf, where the town sits today. Consequently, another plan was prepared in 1902, which provided the basic layout of the new town on the southern ridge. This was followed by the construction of a number of Government buildings, notably the former Provincial Commissioner’s Office (now State Lodge) and the Old Prison (now earmarked for the construction of an Anglican Cathedral).

 

In 1903, the township boundaries were gazetted and some 12,000 acres, including water, set aside for its development. The new township reverted to its original name, Kisumu, in substitution of Port Florence. At this time, there was an ‘Old Kisumu’, that consisted of two rows of stalls (dukas) on Mumias Road, north of the Gulf. It was later demolished in the 1920s when new plots became available on Odera and Ogada Streets in the present-day Kisumu, hence the new area acquired the name ‘New Bazaar’.

By the 1930s and ’40s, the city had become a leading East African centre for Commerce, Administrative and Military installations. In the 1960s the population of Asians in relation to Locals was significantly higher. The town was elevated to the status of a Municipal Board in 1940 and later to a Municipal Council in 1960. In the early 1960s, very little development took place in Kisumu, with an acute shortage realized in dwelling houses, shops and offices. The situation was later made worse by the influx of locals into the town following the declaration of independence in 1963.

 

The city’s growth and prosperity slowed down temporarily in 1977, as a result of the collapse of the East African Community (the development organisation that held Uganda, Tanzania and Kenya together, sharing various facilities under one organisation) . However, the city was spurred by the reformation of the community in 1996 and with its designation as a “city.” The port has been stimulated by the transformation of international business and trade, as well as the shipments of goods destined for Uganda, Tanzania, Burundi, Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

 

Today, Kisumu is one of the fastest-growing cities in Kenya. It is thriving with rich sugar and rice irrigation industries, whose contribution to the National economy is immense due to its natural resources and as the epicentre for business in East Africa. (Source: Kisumu City Council)

 

 

 

Young Jomo, the carpenter and more

 

Things you did not know about Mombasa

 

(An excerpt from Edward Corcoran's Mombasa Mission 1888-1990 Part One)

Let’s start at the very beginning - a very good place to start". So, Maria tells the Von Trapp children in the musical The Sound of Music. Why not let us do the same? And for our history of the faith in modern Kenya, with special reference to the Diocese of Mombasa which corresponds to the civic region of the Coast Province, we find the beginning in the second verse of Genesis. There we read: "...God's spirit hovered over the waters". And, of course, part of that vast expanse of water was what we know today as the Indian Ocean, the only passageway from the outside world, until comparatively recent times, to that strip of Coastal East Africa we call the Kenya Coast. God's Spirit hovered over this stretch of ocean for centuries, watching the comings and goings of the earliest seafarers through it. Among these were possibly Assyrians as early as 3000 BC; Jews and Phoenicians around 2000 BC; Azanian settlers from the southern end of the Red Sea. It is interesting to note in passing that Mama Ngina Drive along the seafront in Mombasa was originally called Azania Drive.

 

Every Kenyan school student learns that the first written account of trade along the East Coast of Africa was the Periplus of the Erythraean Sea, dating from the latter half of the first century AD. Mombasa is not mentioned by name, but very likely it offered a haven to these early travellers even if it had not yet become a trading centre worthy of mention. The inhabitants of this part of the Coast at this time were probably African tribes, not of Bantu origin, among whom had settled people of the Arabian Peninsula, principally from Yemen and the South Arabian Coast.

 

THE ARRIVAL OF ISLAM

God's Spirit, still hovering over these waters, had not yet directed seafarers who believed in the One True God as far as Mombasa. It would seem that the first knowledge of the the God of Abraham was brought to these shores by Muslim traders in the ninth and tenth centuries AD, a period which saw a great upsurge in trade with Persia and Oman. Mombasa is mentioned in an account of a visit to these parts by Ibn Batuta about 1330 and is described as a large city abounding with banana, lemon and citron; the chief food was fish and bananas; the inhabitants were Shafite Sunnis who were "religious, chaste and virtuous". The town's mosques were solidly built of wood. Islamic culture at the Coast reached its height from 1200 to 1500, during which period Mombasa became, after Kilwa further South, the second most important town in East African coastal waters.

 

CHRISTIANITY COMES TO MOMBASA

 

The first sight of the emblem of Christianity in these parts was that of the huge cross emblazoned on the mainsail of the flagship of Bartholomeo Diaz who rounded what he called the Cape of Storms with a small Portuguese fleet in 1487. The King of Portugal, who had not had to experience such storms, rechristened it the Cape of Good Hope. Diaz is not mentioned in connection with Mombasa - the more famous Vasco da Gama appears to have been the first Portuguese to call there. This was in April, 1498.

After an apparently friendly welcome accorded them, the Portuguese learned of an Arab plot to seize their fleet in retribution for Portuguese action against their brothers earlier on at Mozambique. This friction was the beginning of the hatred that existed thereafter between the Arabs and the Portuguese right up to 1729 which saw the end of the latter's influence in East Africa. Vasco da Gama continued on his journey and made a brief stay at Malindi. He was well received there, and on his return trip from Goa, was allowed to erect a large cross on the seashore. This cross, bearing the coat of arms of the King of Portugal, is still standing today, although not on the original site. Vasco da Gama made a second trip to Goa in 1502, and on this occasion stayed some time at Kilwa. As he made ready to sail, he discovered some two hundred Muslim women who had been smuggled on board the ships by his sailors, declaring that they wished to leave their husbands and embrace Christianity instead.

Da Gama would have none of it, finding the women "of slender virtue" and finding his crew's motives suspicious to say the least of it. When he started repatriating the would-be converts, he found himself landed with some forty whose husbands refused to take them back. And so these ladies of Kilwa were accepted by the Portuguese and kept on board becoming, doubtlessly, the first known "converts" to Christianity in East Africa. Coming back to our home waters, we find the Portuguese making their first permanent settlement - or factory, as such settlements were called - at Malindi, and not Mombasa, in 1505. At this, Kilwa's power began to wane, and until the building of Fort Jesus in Mombasa in 1593, Malindi was the only important settlement of the Portuguese north of Mozambique. That is why we find the name of our next Portuguese in this journey of faith, St. Francis Xavier, associated with Malindi, and not with Mombasa.

St. Francis Xavier sailed up along the East African Coast on his way to Goa in 1542, and, in a letter to his Jesuit superiors in Rome, he describes his stopover there in April of that year. "We visited a city inhabited by Moors (i.e. Arabs) who are at peace with us", he writes. "We learn that Portuguese merchants were usually found there, and that the Christians who died there were interred 'in tombs of great size with crosses on them' " . He mentions the Vasco da Gama cross as "gilded and very beautiful". It is with great pride that he writes: "The Lord God knows what comfort it gave us to see it, conscious as we are how great is the virtue of the cross, standing thus solitary and victorious in a Moorish land".

St Francis buried a sailor who had died on board and said that the Muslims were greatly edified with "...the way we Christians have of burying the dead". Before continuing his journey, he had lengthy discussions with some of the leading members of the Muslim community, at the end of which he tells us that ". . .their point of view remained unchanged. . . and so did mine". Mosque attendance was a worry for one of their religious leaders. He told Francis that the faithful were attending only three out of seventeen mosques in the town, and to those only a handful went regularly. He wanted to know if Christians had the same problem.

From Malindi, Francis headed north again and describes a visit to the island of Socotra (to which we shall return later on), and then ends his letter suddenly with the words "we reached the city of Goa on 6th May, 1542 (over a year since they had sailed from Lisbon). Francis was only thirty-six years old and had but another ten years to live. This great pioneer missionary went to the East Indies and Japan, signed his letter with the utmost humility: "Your useless brother in Christ". "Useless" as he may have been in his own estimation, he remains today patron of missionaries; and on a more modest scale his feast is celebrated with special devotion in Kenya by his spiritual children, the Goan Catholic community.

 

My last post, with love and gratitude

 Goodbye to Writing!

Thank you for everything 

you have done for me!

FROM the day I was born I have had a fortunate life, interspersed with a lot of pain and grief but for a kid who was forced to leave school at 12, it has indeed been a fortunate life. I who was born with nothing, who had nothing, was sustained by the goodness of the people I met on life’s many and differing paths. Seychellois, Mauritians, Somalis, Bohranas, Swahilis, Arabs, Indians of every ilk, Pakistanis (Muslims, we used to call them), Europeans and indigenous Africans. It was not until I met a bunch of guys called the Jokers that I got to know the Goan club crowd. It was a blessing in many ways because I made life-long friends.

Before I met and got to know the Goans again, I was lost in a paradise of my own: journalism. I was completely consumed and success came quickly which fuelled my appetite and dedication even more.

I would finish work at Midnight and head for the nightclubs to check out the music scene or the club scenes at the Sombrero Club which was a strip joint, or the Starlight club which had the barbecue (nyama choma) setting in Nairobi at the time. The owner, Robbie Armstrong was a sports fanatic and a great buddy of journalists. He was generous to a fault.

Some nights I would hop into Guy Spencer’s old car and drive to Nakuru, Eldoret or anywhere with a good breakfast place. The old Wagon Wheel Hotel in Eldoret was a favourite because we thought their breakfasts (including delicious cold-pressed tongue) and bread straight from the oven were our favourite.

I could never have imagined the life I was leading: meeting budding politicians who were to become independent Kenya’s first leaders, sportsmen, especially athletes who promised the earth which was delivered many years later with gold, silver, and bronze medals on the world’s greatest stages. I had never played hockey. Our school did not have that facility, in fact, there was no facility for any sport. Once I got to understand the intricacies of the game (thanks to Oscar D’Souza, we would debate various aspects till the early hours of the morning.) As a sports reporter, life was heaven, meeting players and athletes who in any developed country would be superstars. These were gifts that I could never have imagined. And then into politics, police rounds, Parliament, travelling Africa and the world, special features, one exclusive after another. As long as I was a journalist (journalists never really retire, sometimes they downsize their participation) life was a kind of paradise.

I also got to know musicians of all skins and colours around the country. I was MC-ing dances from the age of around 14, especially the Seychellois dances which were something special.

My God has been particularly generous to me, especially in Australia. After working with the Sydney Morning Herald, The Australian, The St George and Sutherland Shire Leader in senior positions, I changed tack and took on the position of communications and community relations manager with emergency response in any incident being the priority. I had to learn a whole new industry, oil refining with all the public issues, environmental controls, accidents and negative emissions in the refinery. I had a ball because I had a great team of senior people to work with.

Australia also gave me the chance to produce once the longest publishing Indian newspaper in English with the paper’s founders Nina and Vijay Badhwar: The Indian Down Under. Sadly, it survives online, a fate suffered by many mastheads throughout the country.

Newspapers in the traditional form are dead or nearly dead.

Australia also gave me the chance to publish four books. Yesterday in Paradise, Stars Next Door, Yesterday at the Nation (limited print edition) and Twilight of The Exiles.

The great gift in my life, besides my own family and my extended family, have been the friends I have made along the journey. I will always be grateful for that.

I was planning my final book but I think I have failed in that endeavour and it is time to cancel my subscription to the MS Word, the Adobe suites and all the other associated online programs and downsize my online life.

SO I am not going to be writing any new stories unless, of course, you would like to do an online interview Q&A style to tell me your story or you would like to send me a Word version of whatever you would like me to publish on my blog.

I would like to continue publishing Death and Funeral notices as well as eulogies and tributes with photos. However, research will be a thing of the past. The Facebook page will still be there as well as the blog, but not updated too often.

I was hoping to achieve the magical figure of One Million times stories in my blog have been read by you good people but I may have to settle for around 800,000 by the end of the year. No mean feat and it will be only and all thanks to you all. God Bless. 

THANK YOU, AHSANTE SANA:  Here are some of the people who helped along my recent journeys. Andi, Leon and Carl, Johnny and Matilda Fernandes, Johnny and Maura Lobo,  Melisaa Bailey, John Costabir, Cliff Pereira, Vivek Menezes, Frederick Noronha, Benegal Pereira, Heather-Gale D’Souza, Paloma Fernandes, Gilbert Fernandes, the late Steve Fernandes, Felix Nazareth Joe Antao, Joe D’Souza, the late Mike Parry, Norman da Costa, Silu Fernandes, Hilary Fernandes, Ashi Chand, Jerry Lobo, Patrick Martins, Tony Reg D’Souza, Leo and Gerry Rodrigues, Lyndon Abreu, Claire Leather, Olaf Ribeiro, late Eddie Rodrigues, John Noronha, Astrid Fernandes, Mitelia Paul, Joe Desa, Juliette de Menezes, Alex Fernandes, Braz Menezes, Mervyn Maciel, Francis Noronha, Alhussein Namajee, Juliet Rebello, Adrian Grimwood, Shirley Gonsalves, Alvira Almeida, Cyrilla Rodrigues, Michael Owuor, John Kamau,  Oscar D’Souza, Emilian Joanes, Malcolm Monteiro, Des Fortes, Drake Shikhule, Merwin D’Souza, Mona Dias, Rowland Rebello, Edwin and Ivy De Souza, Sultan Somjee, Michael Fernandes (Mombasa), Alcino Rodrigues, Hartman de Souza, Armand Rodrigues, Zulema Collacco, Nisha Albuquerque, Michelle Lobo, John Nazareth, Bertha Fernandes, Edgar Fernandes, the late Ray Batchelor, Edmund Silveira, Jessel Mandricks, Terence Pinto, Celia Mascarenhas, the late Dr Fitz D’Souza, the late Sister Trifa de Souza, Meldrita Laurente Viegas, Maureen D’Mello D’Souza, the late Blaise D’Cunha, Walter Fernandes, the late Crescenti Fernandes, the late John J. De Souza, the late Bill Pagano, Mel D’Souza … and if I have missed out anyone please blame it on short-term memory loss. These are some of the people who have been of help and advice in recent years, there are many thousands more from 1956 to 2007 whose names I can't remember, too many to mention here, too many who have gone to their Maker.

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN BLESSED WITH THE SOME OF THE MOST CARING AND GENEROUS READERS, YOU HAVE CARRIED ME WHEN THINGS WERE TOUGH OR I WAS DOWN IN THE DUMPS. YOU WILL ALWAYS INSPIRE ME. I WILL ALWAYS HAVE YOU IN MY HEART.

Pure nostalgia, images of Kenya

 CLICK ON THE PICTURE IF YOU CAN READ THE TYPE

    

Duncan Rollo: You could add the Devonshire Declaration of 1923.

“Primarily, Kenya is an African territory, and His Majesty's Government think it necessary definitely to record their considered opinion that the interests of the African natives must be paramount and that if, and when, those interests and the interests of the immigrant races should conflict, the former should prevail. Obviously the interests of the other communities, European, Indian or Arab, must severally be safeguarded ... But in the administration of Kenya His Majesty's Government regard themselves as exercising a trust on behalf of the African population, and they are unable to delegate or share this trust, the object of which may be defined as the protection and advancement of the native races.”

It clearly states the basis of British Government policy. Admittedly the settlers did not accept this and did their best to obstruct its implementation.

 

Zaneta Mascarenhas: the new member for Swan WA

 

Yes, she is a Goan, the first Goan Member of the Australian Federal Parliament. Congratulations and best wishes for a long life in Parliament. You have earned it!

Her parents, Joe and Ethel Mascarenhas,  migrated from Kenya but she was born in Australia.

Former FIFO (fly in fly out) mining engineer Labor’s Zaneta Mascarenhas defeated her Liberal opponent, Kristy McSweeney. She is the first woman to hold the seat of Swan in its 101-year history.

On the night she told her supporters: “It’s a pretty exciting moment. I know that tonight the people of Swan have made me the first female to be elected as a representative.

“We believed in a better future.

“People say it’s time for change and a better future.

“I studied science and engineering.

“While this isn’t the typical skill set of a political candidate, I’m looking forward to learning about all the skills required to be a strong advocate for our community.”

She made special mention of her two children, Felicity, 2, and Lincoln, 4.

“I’m going to become a FIFO mum. I want to work hard and make you proud. This was a really hard decision to make, but it’s because I want to get a future for you,” she said.

My name is Zaneta Mascarenhas - like Anita but starting with a "Z". 

I was born in Kalgoorlie and grew up in Kambalda - a nickel mining town where dad was a fitter and mum the kindy cleaner. 

My first job, which I loved, was on the checkout at Woolies. When my supervisor bullied me to tears in front of customers, I saw what it meant to be part of a union.  The union stepped in to help me, listened to me and made my supervisor apologise. 

When I was 18, I moved to Perth to study science and engineering at Curtin University, later serving as Curtin Student Guild President and NUS West President, leading the fight to stop the Liberals destroying student unions and putting up uni fees.

In my 15 year career as an engineer, I’ve worked in dozens of sites across regional WA and Victoria, often as one of a handful of women in predominantly male worksites. 

For the last 10 years I've used my skills to help mining companies develop policies and practices to address climate change.  As an engineer and a scientist, I understand that leadership in the area of climate change policy is urgently needed.  Only Labor can deliver that policy, along with a process based on fairness and equity to enable industries and workers to make a just transition to a low carbon economy.

For the last 8 years, my husband and I have lived in East Victoria Park, where we are now raising our two children, Lincoln and Felicity. We love living here and are committed to our local community.

If I am elected, I’ll be on your side, fighting passionately for families like mine here in Swan, and working tirelessly with you for a strong and fair society.

Zaneta's parents grew up in Kenya but were told they could not emigrate to Australia because of the colour of their skin. Gough Whitlam's Labor Government changed that. Forever Labor!

With her parents and below Holi in Bangladesh and learning to play hockey at a very young age.