The afternoon sun cast a tranquil ambiance, yet an electrifying excitement buzzed in the air as I embarked on a journey that would unveil the uncharted territories of my newfound passion. It was a passion kindled by the irrepressible spirit of exploration, leading me to traverse the magnificent landscapes of our beloved Kenya. The catalyst for this adventure was none other than my friend, Collins ‘Aucho’ Okoth, who had introduced me to Cheza Sports in an unexpected twist of fate – a story best reserved for another day.
As the clock hand danced its way to 6:07 pm, I found myself nestled within the confines of a Nissan Matatu, a vehicle that would carry me to the enchanting realm of Murang’a. The Nairobi Central Business District receded into the background as the streets unfurled like ribbons, guiding our path. “Late for exploration,” you might muse, yet serendipity was my companion, embodied by a fellow passenger.
Beside me sat a man of outgoing charm, an instant friend, and an indispensable guide. He embraced his role with gusto, illuminating my path through the labyrinthine routes of Central Kenya. Alas, his sojourn was brief, alighting before me, leaving me to steer my destiny upfront. A bodaboda, the motorcycle taxi emblematic of Kenyan streets, was my next charioteer.
This bodaboda operator wore a badge of congeniality, his camaraderie kindled by the embers of Kenyan football. His inquiry into my destination unraveled a tapestry of shared passions. With the wind in our faces and the road humming beneath us, he shared tales of his love for the local football team. Ah, that team – the solitary representative of their region in the premier league, reveling in their inaugural season. For this bodaboda pilot, football wasn’t merely a sport; it was his heartbeat, his economic sustenance, and his connection to a greater community.
He bared the logistical challenges faced by his ilk, ferrying fervent fans to the distant pitch tucked away from the town’s heart. Those treacherous roads, like the threads of fate, wove a tale of perseverance and commitment. His insights into the game were akin to a philosopher’s treatise – thoughtful, incisive, and deeply contemplative. He pondered the game’s potential televised broadcast, only to quash his optimism with a resigned shake of his head. Broadcasting partnerships remained elusive, and the game might find its voice through the team’s social media channels.
In moments of candid conversation, we men managed to span the spectrum of discourse, skimming over politics, leaping into sports, and diving into societal quandaries. Names were inconsequential; it was the camaraderie that bound us. As the clock unfurled its arms to 8:15, the team bus emerged, a behemoth gliding through the streets, collecting players like celestial bodies falling into orbit. Unbeknownst to those athletes – committed to matters of the stomach – an evening of camaraderie awaited, wrapped in the guise of supper.
As the wheels turned, my lens was ready to capture more than just images. It would immortalize the passion coursing through these stories, the devotion painted on every face, and the unity forged on fields and roads. Day one as a club photographer had unveiled more than a series of clicks; it had unveiled a world of narratives waiting to be embraced and shared. The journey had just begun, and every shutter click was another stroke in the portrait of Kenya’s footballing heart.
