It was pure happenstance that led me there. I got lost and drove down that Cabro road and then I was lured by the signage that promised a ‘river view’. [Hotel, Riverview, read the signage at the entrance] I thought, a river view?
Off Raphta Road, Westlands? I thought, hmmm, maybe this was the kind of place that newspapers describe gushingly as ‘Nairobi's hidden gem.’
Old globe-like lights hang from strings that ran through trees. A footpath led down past bandas. Place looked hidden and old but not the old that comes with wisdom but with despair.
“Where is the river and garden?” I asked a waitress who said, “that is the garden,” pointing at a banda. I said, “that’s a banda.” She said, “that's the garden.” “And the river?“ I inquired. She said the river was behind the property. Oh, so no river view.
There were lots of Asian families who were leaving what looked like a child’s party. [I saw lots of black and yellow balloons].
Two Indian men sat in a banda drinking a beer, talking ‘conspiratorially,’ as newspapers might report. I could smell something funky but I ignored it thinking it was just my cynicism. Rhumba music played from a nice local-looking bar.
You can lure me and kill me with rhumba music, so I went to the bar to investigate. “Where is the river?” I asked another waitress, “I’d love to see it.” She said the river was behind.
As I walked behind the establishment looking for the river, the funky smell grew stronger and stronger until I discovered the smell was coming from the river. It was sluggish, black and putrid.
It was just horrible. A signage warned you against throwing trash in the river. What bloody irony! I’d not throw my enemy in that river. The smell was overpowering.
I wondered how little we care for our environment. How it’s possible for people to eat and drink with this backdrop, this stench.
I know this is a column about bars and restaurants but today it's about how little we care about our environment and how our children will pay for it dearly. It’s also how there is no bloody ‘river view’ at Hunger’s Nest. For chrissake, guys!
