At the start of the journey, Mbuthia, our driver, spoke only when giving us instructions and answered our questions in a word or two. He was casually dressed and wore a baseball hat pulled low over his eyes.
It would be days before I finally saw his entire face. The inscription on the strap at the back of his hat read "Madness". In a way, that summarised the nine-day journey we were about to embark on.
On May 25 this year, I followed migrants from Nairobi to Johannesburg, South Africa, under cover. Pretending that I was also running away to South Africa, I paid Sh45,000 to a smuggler who operates under the guise of a travel agent.
I wanted to experience what it was like for people taking the 3,850-kilometre road trip across the southern half of the continent in search of a better life. Little did I know what I was in for.
Read the full story here.