Kilimanjaro

Last year, flying south from Nairobi to Johannesburg, I was desperate to catch a view of this great mountain from above. In a straight line, the distance from Nairobi to Mount Kilimanjaro is 206 kilometres (106 miles). I had seen photos and videos of the mountain shot from airplane windows, and I had hoped that I too would join this club. But when my turn came, it was not to be. The weather condition on that day was hazy, visibility was poor. Also, it may well have been that the flight plan did not take us anywhere near the mountain at all. I had on a previous flight out of Nairobi to Amsterdam caught a prolonged glimpse of Mount Kenya, in the distance, in the early morning light, silhouetted against the rising sun as we headed north. It was somewhat disheartening then not to have seen Kilimanjaro, and it is to compensate for this that I am doing this writing. 

The highest mountain in Africa, and the highest free-standing mountain above sea level in the world, at 5,895 m (19,341 ft) above sea level and 4,900 m (16,100 ft) above its plateau base, Mount Kilimanjaro  is also the highest mountain in the Eastern Hemisphere and the fourth most prominent peak on Earth.

Mountain height is measured as the height above sea level to the summit. Modern tools like GPS and satellite imagery allow for precise measurements, replacing older methods. Also, though altitude rankings are the most common, mountains are sometimes ranked by "prominence," which measures height relative to surrounding terrain. Kilimanjaro is exceptional in prominence as the world's tallest freestanding mountain, soaring from the plains with no surrounding mountain range. In Africa, Kilimanjaro is unmatched in height. It rises significantly above Mount Kenya: 5,199 m (17,057 ft), and Mount Stanley (Uganda) 5,109 m (16,763 feet). Kilimanjaro's dominance has made this mountain an enduring symbol of Africa's natural beauty.

Much of the readily available literature about this mountain is composed of scientific reports, measurements, and findings, together with promotional material for adventure tourism. What I choose to focus on though, is the mountain's cultural significance.

The mountain and its surrounding forests were designated a game reserve in the early part of the 20th century. In 1973 Mount Kilimanjaro National Park was established to protect the mountain above the tree line as well as the six forest corridors that extend downslope through the montane forest belt. The park was designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1987.

Kilimanjaro carries a significance that goes well beyond its grandeur. For local communities, it is a mountain of legend, of spirituality, and a mountain of national pride. It is one of Africa's most culturally important landmarks. For the Chagga people, who live on the fertile lower slopes of Kilimanjaro, the mountain is more than a backdrop to daily life—it is a sacred presence. Traditional stories portray Kilimanjaro as a spiritual guardian, a place inhabited by ancestral spirits and gods. Rainfall from the mountain’s glaciers and streams nourishes the fields below, giving life to the banana plantations and coffee farms that sustain the community. This link between the mountain and survival has reinforced its role as a symbol of abundance and protection.

"Kilimanjaro features prominently in East African folklore. Some tales describe it as a place of forbidden fire guarded by spirits, while others tell of great hunters and warriors whose souls rest upon its slopes. For centuries, the mountain’s snow and ice also inspired awe and mystery, as it seemed impossible to reconcile with its equatorial location. These stories were passed down through generations, weaving Kilimanjaro into the region’s cultural identity.

For Tanzania as a whole, Kilimanjaro is a powerful emblem of national unity and pride. It appears on the country’s coat of arms, banknotes, and tourism campaigns, representing endurance and strength. During the fight for independence, Kilimanjaro became a symbol of freedom and aspiration. In 1961, when Tanganyika (now Tanzania) gained independence, the new national flag was hoisted at the mountain’s summit—a gesture that forever tied Kilimanjaro to the country’s journey toward self-determination.

Kilimanjaro’s cultural significance is as towering as its physical presence. For the Chagga people, it is sacred ground and a source of life. For Tanzania, it is a symbol of independence, pride, and resilience. For the world, it is an enduring cultural icon celebrated in stories, art, and personal journeys. To climb or even gaze upon Kilimanjaro is to encounter not just a mountain, but a living emblem of human spirit and cultural identity." GlobalTrekkingExpeditions

Journey Journal 5 "Oga just hold on, these are my boys"

We arrived at Abuja just before 5am following our 10pm departure from London Heathrow the previous evening. No, I couldn't sleep at all, I had underestimated how cramped and uncomfortable it would be in economy class when I had thought I could just sleep through the flight. Also, the flight itself was particularly bumpy, with severe turbulence commencing just after we passed Barcelona, and continuing until we crossed the Algerian coast. The captain, who even before departure had warned us about this turbulence, later came on the speakers to explain the reasons why the turbulence was happening, saying that it was worse than had been expected—something to do with the Atlas Mountains and converging winds. But in my weariness I paid little attention to what he said.

It was with this same weariness that having cleared the tedious border health and other immigration procedures at Abuja, I responded to being summoned by two very astute foreign exchange dealers, who seemed to have positioned themselves strategically to waylay passengers disembarking from this early morning flight who were desperate for Naira at 5am, when all other outlets would likely be closed. In exchange for three crisp currency notes, I received a thick wad of Naira notes that would not fit into my wallet, so I requested an envelope and stuffed the parcel of money into my shoulder bag.

I then logged my two other bags across the parking lot from the international terminal to the domestic departures, where upon entering the building I was approached by a young man, "To where, sir?" 

As it turned out, it was this young man who led me to the correct check-in counter for my onward flight scheduled for 10am; it was he who weighed my bags, advised that I carry the less heavy bag as hand luggage, and he who transferred the heavier bag personally to the inner office for loading. As I waited for him to return, being mindful that I owed him a reward for his 'kindness', another young man came forward, "Oga, I can take you upstairs to the departures lounge to relax while you wait for your flight. You can even use the executive lounge.." as he leaned forward to pick up my hand luggage, insisting on carrying it, motioning with his hand that I follow him. 

But at the foot of the escalator leading upstairs, the first man whose return I had been awaiting suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, the two of them standing side by side. So I put my arm around the shoulders of the first guy and pulled him aside, whispering that I wished to give him something and give something to the other guy too, but that I wasn't comfortable doing it all out in the open. He agreed to share with his colleague whatever I gave him, so we moved further away to a more secluded area where I opened my shoulder bag and flicked some notes off the top of the bundle those currency exchange men had given me and handed the notes to him.

We returned to the foot of the escalator where after having received his own share, the enthusiasm of the second guy who was still holding my bag seemed to escalate. After I bid a warm farewell to the first guy, the second guy led me upstairs, where on arrival at the entrance to the departures lounge itself, we were confronted with another security gate complete with a full body scanner similar to the one at the front entrance of the building.

"Oga, just hold on, these are my boys," I heard him say to me, with a hand gesture signalling that I should wait. He then walked over to the men manning the gate and said something to them, before signalling that I could come forward. 

On seeing me arrive at the gate all three men jumped to attention, and I was greeted with repeated shouts of "Welcome sah", " You're welcome sah", "You're welcome", then "Oga, oya, pass, pass, just pass by the side," meaning I should walk around the side of the scanner bypassing it completely.

The guy still insisted on taking me to the executive lounge, something he had proposed the minute he met me. But I wasn't keen on making a statement that seemed to be saying that I was more important than everyone in this large crowd of people seated out in the general seating area by walking past them, and entering this place boldly signposted as the EXECUTIVE LOUNGE. My natural inclination is to identify more with the ordinary people, 

If importance comes to me, let it be bestowed on me by others, not by my own self.

And so it was that I ended up sitting on a hard uncomfortable bench among the crowd in the general seating area for upward of four hours, waiting for my flight to Port Harcourt, tired after a sleepless night, and with pains to my backside from sitting for so long on that hard bench. I did eventually make it to Port Harcourt, though, even if this is not my final destination. 

I intend at some point to say one or two things about my experiences in Port Harcourt too, and how different it is from how I remember it from the 1970s and 80s.

The Bantu Migration

The Bantu Migration from their origins in southern West Africa saw a gradual population movement sweep through the central, eastern, and southern parts of the continent starting in the mid-2nd millennium BCE and finally ending before 1500 CE. With them, the Bantu brought new technologies and skills such as cultivating high-yield crops and iron-working which produced more efficient tools and weapons.

Eventually, the Bantu dominated, with the exception of South Africa and the Namibian desert, all of the African continent south of a line crossing from southern Nigeria to Kenya. In all, some 500 languages spoken today in that vast area are derived from the Proto-Bantu language. Although most historians would agree on the general occurrence of the Bantu migrations across Africa, the precise timings, motivations, routes, and consequences are all still being debated.

The Bantu

The Bantu were agriculturalists who spoke various dialects of the Bantu language. Their heartland was the savannah and rain forest regions around the Niger River of southern West Africa (modern Nigeria, Cameroon, and Gabon). Using both stone and iron tools, they successfully grew crops such as millet, sorghum, dry rice, beans, oil palms, and melons, although they did so at a subsistence level, that is they grew only sufficient crops to meet their own needs. They had the technology to create iron from iron ore, but where this came from is not known except that the three most likely possibles are: the knowledge was introduced by the Phoenicians in the north, the Egyptians or Kushites in the east, or it was acquired locally and independently.

Migration East & South

During the 2nd millennium BCE, small population groups of Bantu began to migrate into Central Africa and then across to the Great Lakes region of East Africa. This movement can be traced by the study of linguistics - a technique known as lexicostatistics - and observation of the relative closeness of local languages to each other and the language originally spoken by the Bantu people of the Niger River delta: Proto-Bantu. At the same time, one should be cautious with such studies as the passage of a language may not necessarily reflect the migration of its speakers. The same might be said of cultural practices and technologies.

It was the Bantu people who founded the coastal settlements of East Africa, what would become, with the addition of Muslim traders from Arabia and Persia from the 7th century CE, the Swahili Coast. From southern West Africa (the West Bantu) and the Great Rift Valley of East Africa (the East Bantu) two streams of Bantu peoples then moved further south in a second wave of migration which occurred during the 1st millennium BCE. A third wave of migration, in the first half of the 1st millennium CE, then took place as the East Bantu peoples moved even further south into what is today Zimbabwe, Botswana, Mozambique, and eastern South Africa.

The process of the Bantu migration has traditionally been seen by scholars as a gradual one of filtering down from village to village (and sometimes back again) through a rather sparsely populated Africa. However, the UNESCO General History of Africa puts a rather different slant on the process, at least in regards to the first wave: 

"The main expansion of the Bantu was vast and fast, not a series of gradual stages as some have argued. But it was a matter neither of purposeless nomadic wandering, nor of organized military conquest. It was a remarkable process of colonization - in the true sense of the word - the opening up of essentially empty lands." (Mokhtar, 320)

The Bantu shared their knowledge of iron-smelting, pottery-making, and their farming skills with indigenous forager and nomadic tribes they met, many of whom eventually then settled into stable village communities. Bantu dialects and aspects of Bantu culture were adopted, although the migrants, it is important to note, also learnt from the indigenous peoples, especially in areas like the cultivation of some grain crops or fishing techniques which had been perfected over centuries to get the best from the specific local environmental conditions. In addition, many cultural practices - the use of stone and obsidian tools, to give but one example - often continued to be used in parallel with the Bantu people's superior technologies.

More here:

https://www.worldhistory.org/Bantu_Migration/

Note: The word "Bantu", although sometimes used as a perjorative, or as derogatory term by racists, is in fact a native African term, a compound word, 'Ba-ntu', which is plural for 'person'. So it literally means 'persons' or 'people'. The singular varies. It could be 'Mu' or 'Mo', ie., mo-ntu, or mu-ntu, literally meaning a person, (Muganda-singular/Baganda-plural, Motswana-singular/Batswana-plural). Bantus also use prefixes like 'Wa' or 'Ki' (WaHutu, KiKongo).

Gidan Makama Museum, Kano

Photography and video making are not my strengths, but this is the place I visited.

"Once upon a time in 1440 AD, a magnificent structure known as Gidan Makama was built by the powerful Sarki (King) Abdullahi Burja. Initially intended as a temporary palace, this architectural wonder has since transformed into a captivating museum. The story of Gidan Makama begins with its creation for Prince Rumfa, who later became the legendary Sarki Muhammadu Rumfa.

Over the centuries, the original Gidan Makama has been divided into three distinct sections. One part now houses the Gidan Makama Museum, where visitors can marvel at the rich history of the Hausalands and beyond. Another section is home to the Gidan Makam Primary School, educating the young minds of Kano. The final part remains a residence for the successive Makaman Kano, carrying on the legacy of this historic site.

The Gidan Makama boasts a stunning display of traditional Hausa architecture, making it an iconic landmark in Kano. Today, it proudly serves as a national museum and reference library, boasting an extensive collection of manuscripts and historical artifacts that offer a fascinating glimpse into the past."

Courtesy Kano Chronicle on X

African Vernacular Architecture

When Africa adopts modern technology devoid of external cultural influences.

Excerpt

"The walls could use hybrid construction systems that guarantee durability over time and that, in turn, maintain the appearance and thermal properties of rammed earth and raw mud; evoking the vernacular and ancestral, but modern at the same time. As well as including the use of beautiful external and internal murals designed by local artists.

The native plant species of the area will be respected, as well as taking advantage of the surrounding trees to generate shade, and the use of outdoor pots to give a human scale, a more welcoming appearance, and a more interesting route. It is essential to involve the community so that a project of these characteristics can be successful..."

Source: https://www.instagram.com/midjourney.../p/CvhPPsWshbA/...

And here https://parametric-architecture.com/rolo-creates.../

A return to the original African outlook on life. Traditional African societies were deeply rooted in a community-based outlook. Life was centred on shared responsibilities where the welfare of the collective outweighed individual interests. These are ideals we should never have left behind. We could have adopted aspects of modern civilisation that were beneficial to us, while holding fast to what was uniquely ours, that which had served us well for thousands of years. We could have adopted modern technology not to ape others, but adapt it to suit our own purposes.

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Cairo

There are relatively few trees in Cairo, but there are lots of palm trees that ornamentally line major boulevards and avenues. 

Alhough downtown Cairo was planned by European architects, throughout the city is a mix of different architectural styles. I was taken aback by how European the downtown area was. I had seen it with my eyes before going to read up on it, then I understood why the downtown is the way it is.

The beauty of this downtown area is fading now, but it must have been splendid at some time in the past. It still is beautiful though, but there is something uniquely Egyptian about it. And not just the downtown. 

Despite the conflicting styles and influences, the European style buildings, as with the modern ones, almost all have subtle Egyptian touches and finishes, which, together with the use of Arabic signage, include unique features like hieroglyphs, pharaonic motifs, ancient Egyptian imagery, and other ornate detailing, everywhere you look; this including inside the elevators at my hotel; small details that constantly reminded me of where I was. And I haven't mentioned the even older traditional North African and Arabian architectural styles. I found the mixture of the ancient, modern, and everything in-between, very interesting. I would have loved to have stayed a bit longer to roam around more. 

This made me feel that in sub Saharan Africa, and in Nigeria in particular, we have abandoned our traditional building styles, such that there is little in modern architecture that can be termed as a uniquely Nigerian style. Our traditional building styles and practices, except perhaps for Hausa traditional architecture to a limited extent, have been largely relegated to a past era. What I've seen in Egypt is the opposite. The Egyptians have brought their traditional styles with them into the 21st century, taking advantage of new technologies to advance that unique style of theirs. This made for a cultural richness and depth that we could have had in Nigeria too, but don't have today in our buildings.