Ujamaa Is Alive in Kenya

I have written before about Ujamaa in Zanzibar, but after travelling across Kenya, I am now convinced that Ujamaa is alive and well here too. What follows are just some of the experiences from our journey through northern and western Kenya—particularly Turkana and the Lake Victoria region—that truly brought this belief home.

Our first clear encounter with Ujamaa happened in Kitale. We got a tyre puncture late at night, and since it was a Sunday, the mechanic who usually handled such issues was unavailable. We went to a nearby petrol patrol station to ask for help. They explained the situation honestly but still offered a solution: we could leave the car safely at the station overnight, and in the morning the tyre would be fixed.

That alone was a reassuring gesture, but it didn’t stop there. We had originally booked a hotel far from town, and given the state of the car, it wasn’t practical. The attendants directed us to a nearby hotel close to the patrol station so we could park the car with minimal movement and easily sort things out in the morning. We were deeply grateful—not because we were entitled to the help, but simply because we asked, and people stepped in.

The second experience was at Locheremoit, a small town on the way to Turkana. We suffered a tyre burst, and unfortunately, the local mechanic couldn’t repair it. Instead of turning us away, he proposed a solution: remove the tyre, take it by motorcycle to Lodwar town for repair, and bring it back. Lodwar is roughly 42 kilometres away, meaning a round trip of nearly 84 kilometres.

What stood out was not just the effort, but the warmth. I had travelled with a friend, and as they waited, the locals invited them to sit with them, share stories, laugh, and pass time together—just to keep the boredom away and make them feel part of the community. Again, we asked, and we were helped.

The third instance happened in Lodwar itself. Nothing here was planned down to the last detail. The morning after we arrived, we asked our host what unique or beautiful places we could visit around Lodwar. He didn’t just give us names—he gave us detailed directions and thoughtful advice. He suggested visiting the Jesus Christ statue and explained different routes to Lake Turkana.

When he saw our car, he was honest and told us that the Eliye Springs route would be difficult given our low-profile tyres. He suggested alternatives: hiring a Land Cruiser or even using a Probox, though those options were costly. Eventually, he recommended a route via Kalokol, which was still on tarmac and safer for our vehicle. Once again, we asked—and we were guided.

The final experience was at Tom Mboya Mausoleum in Rusinga Island, near Lake Victoria. We arrived late and hadn’t planned where we would spend the night. We asked the host at the mausoleum for recommendations on accommodation and nearby places to visit. He was incredibly generous with his time, offering several options. We quickly googled them and narrowed them down.

Our initial preference was a cheaper place, but it was far from the main road. The host advised against it, knowing the challenges we’d already faced with road access. We took his advice and chose another option that was easier to reach. Beyond accommodation, he also suggested places to explore, including a visit to Mfangano Island and learning about the Abasuba community.

All these moments reinforced one powerful truth: you are never truly alone. You live among people. Neighbours. Brothers and sisters. This is the essence of Ujamaa.

Abasuba Peace Community Museum

These experiences rekindled the belief that as Africans, community still matters. We look out for one another. We help where we can. And sometimes, all you need to do is ask.