Maasai Women Riders
On Meeting a Stranger
With respect
And reverence
That the unknown
Between us
Might flower
Into discovery
And lead us
Beyond
The familiar field
Blind with the weed
Of weariness
And the old walls
Of habit
—From Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue
The Maasai woman pressed a handful of necklaces against my window when we pulled up to the Musiara gate exiting the Mara Game Reserve. A young girl nudged her aside with a handful of colourful shukas (Maasai blankets). Their eyes said it all - buy my crafts. Kupai, my Maasai guide and driver, chatted up the guard at his window like they were long lost friends. I shook my head at the women and turned my eyes front. They were not about to take no for an answer. Taking a cue from the women, I whispered “Kupai”, in my own imploring tone, signaling it’s time to move on.
Caption: David Kupai Senchura, my Maasai guide and driver for 3 days
We left on our game drive at 5:30am. It was now 5:00 pm. Action packed days established the pace of my time on this short, amazing trip to Kenya. I was full, happy, and exhausted. I reminded Kupai I was old enough to be his grandmother. I longed to hit the shower, have dinner, and fall into bed.
Caption: Dawn over the Maasai Mara
Kupai shifted his animated conversation in Maa, the language of the Maasai, from the guard to the women. He got my message. He listened to theirs. “She wants to know if we’ll give them a ride home,” he explained. The women sat at the park gate all day long hoping to sell their beadwork to the tourists entering and exiting the park.
Caption: Approach to the Musiara Gate to the Maasai Mara Game Reserve
Most safari vehicles flash an entry ticket at the guards and roll on through. I’m willing to bet sales are few. The Maasai are pastoralists, herders not farmers. They are proud people with a strong traditional culture that remains largely intact. Maasai women are renowned for their exquisite beadwork, but without an organized distribution system the market is slim.
Delighted we could help, I said, “Of course, we can give them a ride!” Five laughing women piled into the truck with their wares. The chatter in Maa was fast and furious. “They’re deciding what to sing for you,” said Kupai. The Maasai sing to their cows. They sing to their children. They sing for rain. They sing to celebrate. They sang for 10 kms, all the way to their village. (video 1.35 mins.) Later Kupai told me “The women were singing for peace making between the tribes because they are peace makers. They also sing to God asking for rain because we believe God hears women.”
My fatigue lifted; our hearts connected, smiles blossomed. The value of the ride was not lost on me. The women walked the 10kms to the gate in the morning and faced another 10kms at the end of the day. This is an open area with wild animals – elephants, lions, hyenas. It is a long, dangerous hike with no guarantee of financial reward. The women have no other means of earning an income outside of the home. They don’t speak Swahili or English. They cannot read or write. The young generation is going to school, but these women never had that opportunity.
I asked Kupai if there some way I could send them photos. No smart phones, no mailing address, no chance. I played the videos back to them from the front seat. We laughed and introduced ourselves. At our final stop the last two women to get out waited patiently at the side of the road for me to take their pictures. I salute these women, their strength and their creativity. I will never forget them.
