Farming venture began with luck, ended with stress

The sixties was a time of transition.

When we started farming in 1962 in Njoro, all the land in our neighbourhood was occupied by white farmers. Over the next 10 years, many of these farmers sold up and left Kenya.

As a young white couple, we were looked at with some suspicion by the old hands.

Fortunately, there were other newcomers to the area who had a great deal of experience, such as the Nightingale family.

They moved to Njoro from Kinangop when their land there came under the Million Acre Settlement Scheme.

Slowly, we got to know the Kenyans who were taking up land around us and for some time we were able to do cultivation on contract.

At the time of independence, Egerton College (now University), was still operating as an institution for white students as stipulated in Lord Egerton’s will.

It was a shock to learn that the new director of Agriculture, Paul Thiong’o Mirie, on a visit to the college, had been declined permission to stay.

Fortunately, the legal hurdles were overcome and Egerton began training Kenyans for agricultural development.

In the mid-sixties, my wife, Ruth, was taken on to run the college library and I went to do some part-time teaching in crop science, which I enjoyed.

Not long after we started farming, I received a call to say that a friend of mine, Rupert Barnes, was at the War Memorial Hospital in Nakuru.

He had been attacked after returning from a trip to Kampala. The assailants suspected that he was carrying cash from the sale of strawberries, which was his main enterprise.

'I RUSHED TO SEE HIM'

We had been students together at Cambridge, so I rushed to see him.

While waiting in the lobby, I was questioned by some reporters who were clearly looking for a story to show that whites were under threat and Kenya was going to the dogs. I was incensed by their attitude and refused to talk.

Fortunately, Rupert recovered and later took the trouble to contact his assailants, who had been tried and jailed in Kisumu. He arranged for them to take correspondence courses while in jail so that they could find employment when released.

Ruth and I became interested in growing strawberries while managing Rupert’s farm for six months in 1961, so we added strawberries to the main enterprises of wheat, maize, and milk at Njoro.

There was a market for very high quality strawberries that were flown overseas, but the majority had to be sold locally or made into jam.

We made very large quantities of “Jambo Jam” and used it as a fund-raising project for the Kenya Voluntary Development Association (KVDA).

In 1971, after 10 years of farming, we made a major decision to sell up and move to Nairobi. I had contacted a friend, Joshua Muthama, (then director of cooperatives), about the plan and he had said he would be interested in taking over the lease of the farm.

We had known Joshua since he was a student of agriculture at Makerere University. The transfer of the lease was relatively straightforward and Joshua took over the livestock and machinery in March 1972.

During the transitional process, several things happened. First, I was appointed as a lecturer in the Faculty of Agriculture of the University of Nairobi.

Secondly, our daughter, Anne, was born at the Mater Hospital in Nairobi. The third event was a motor accident and the fourth was a major disaster with the dairy herd.

Having taken employment in Nairobi, I left the farm in the hands of a young headman who had some education but limited experience.

However, I travelled to the farm every weekend to check on the activities and collect the milk income for banking in Nairobi.

THE CAR RAN OFF THE ROAD

One weekend, while travelling back to Nairobi, the car ran off the road and turned upside down near Rironi.

My passenger and I had seat belts and no one was hurt, but a large basket (ciondo) that had been filled with small change tipped up and there were coins lying everywhere like manna from heaven.

Many people came to help and put the car on its wheels. Some helped me to collect the coins. Others helped themselves.

We found that the car had a puncture, but once the wheel was changed, the car could be driven even though the roof was dented. Not long after, a major disaster occurred with our dairy herd.

The weather had been dry for some time and the pastures were heavily grazed. When Columbus grass is short and wilted, it is liable to contain a dangerous level of prussic acid. Cows may be affected by bloat, but also prussic acid poisoning.

The only remedy for the latter is drenching with sodium thiosulphate solution.

We had not anticipated or prepared for this situation and although the herdsman brought the animals out of the field when he saw trouble starting, it was too late and about 30 cows died.

I rushed to the farm, but nothing could be done except to call the owner of kennels at Lanet, who agreed to take the carcasses for dog meat.

Even then, the troubles were not over. He rented a cold store to keep the meat and agreed to pay me in due course, but when I called after some weeks about the cheque, he told me that the health authorities had complained about a bad smell coming from the store.

The power supply had failed and the meat had to be condemned. At the end of every year we had given a bonus to our staff and I had planned to give a substantial bonus on leaving, but the disaster in the herd made it impossible.

We had started farming in 1962 with a lot of luck, but leaving was a time of stress. He used to come to Katumani Research Station to gain experience during the holidays.

Donald Thomas came to Kenya from South Africa in 1955 as an agricultural expert and made the country his home after independence in 1963.