How I turned my mother-in-law’s neglected home with a wild garden

Tall untrimmed bushes sway gently in the breeze, wild flowers bloom in untamed clusters, and a narrow stone path winds through the green chaos to many parts of the garden, each surrounded by beauty and fragrance.

I ask her why she has let it grow so wild. With a gentle smile she replies, "Life isn't meant to be perfect. It's meant to be lived."

It may have seemed overgrown to the BDLife team, but to Mary it was perfection. This is her refuge, a place where the whisper of the wind replaces the chatter of the world, and the rustling of the leaves draw out memories of pain.

"The bush appeals to me for its quiet beauty, and a peaceful escape. The serenity is transformative, like stepping into another world," says Mary.

The garden hasn't always been like this. Once, it was not barren, but it almost suited Mary's spirit. She had known a life of relentless trials: a challenging childhood marked by loneliness, followed by a union that should have been a refuge but instead became a battleground of disappointment and betrayal.

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The people she trusted most turned their backs on her, leaving her to struggle alone in despair.

"The journey has not been without resistance. When I moved into a house that once belonged to my late mother-in-law, some family members disapproved of my plans to plant flowers and improve the space. But I persisted. The property gradually became known for its beauty, attracting visitors for photo shoots. This recognition motivated me to continue, even with limited resources," she recalls.

"Initially, the area was covered with nappier grass, which provided feed for cows and goats. Over time, I decided to replace it with Kikuyu and Arabica grasses. It thrives and can cover large areas, which suits my vision of creating a bushy, tranquil garden," says Mary.

At her home in Riara Ridge, Limuru, Mary's house reflects its surroundings. The property itself covers about two acres. Originally used for grazing, it was inherited from her father-in-law, who had bought it from a European during President Jomo Kenyatta's regime.

"At that time, land prices were around Sh15 million per acre. Today, an acre in the same area sells for up to Sh38 million, especially after the Covid-19 pandemic increased demand for land away from the city," says Mary.

Country house

Her decade-old country house, which is still a work in progress and has already consumed about Sh10 million, synchronises well with her plants. Hedera hibernica, which has heart-shaped leaves, is gradually sealing off the concrete jungle.

"When I moved here in 2015, I imagined a big compound where my children could play freely. It wasn't easy. The land was messy, overgrown with weeds and unsuitable for hosting visitors or events. Over time, I added soil, planted grass and raised areas to make it more functional," says Mary.

Her choice of plants is determined by their resistance to drought and the amount of water they require. Her front garden sums up tranquillity.

When she transformed the space, she planted bamboo at the entrance for its aesthetic and practical benefits, especially during droughts. "I was told that its leaves can be used as food." And no, she is yet to try it.

The red hibiscus, which she eats straight from the garden, gives her an overflowing sense of calm, the sago palm for the way it blends in with the little baby plants it produces. The garden is also home to the Madonna lily, which is always in bloom and produces flowers in different colours.

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Her favourite spot is by the kitchen window overlooking the garden. The different types of fuchsia, in red, pink and royal purple, give her an inexplicable peace. Fuchsia is also her favourite plant.

"I have experimented with different plants - fuchsias, hibiscus and even exotics like ponytail palms. Every plant has a story. Fuchsias, my favourite, were the first I grew and have a special place in my heart," says the 58-year-old.

Her Arabica grass is struggling to survive, thanks to the moles that keep invading from the neighbour's property, making it almost impossible for the grass to thrive - an obstacle she hadn't anticipated.

Amidst the wild plants, Mary has a well-groomed Kikuyu grass, a lawn she has transformed from a hillside into a hideout where she hosts small parties and retreats.

For years, she had searched for peace, seeking it in places and people that couldn't offer it. But one fateful day, while visiting a neighbour who had fuchsia, a single red flower in full bloom caught her eye.

“Its beauty was a beacon amid the decay, and something deep inside me was stirred. That day I decided to create my sanctuary, my own beauty, my own peace,” she says.

This transformation was deeply personal for her. "Growing up, our modest home lacked flowers until my mother started planting them. That memory stayed with me and inspired my love for beautifying spaces," she says.

Despite the challenges of pests and soil quality, she finds joy in caring for these plants.

For Wacuka, maintaining a garden is a labour of love. She spends about Sh10,000 a month on weeding, watering and paying workers.
The work, she says, was exhausting at first. She poured her pain into every plant she planted, every weed she pulled. Now, the garden has become a canvas for her healing. Slowly, as the plants grow, so does she.

The garden is also a hideaway not only for Mary but also for local wild animals, such as monkeys, although they can be a nuisance at times. The space, she says, brings her joy, serenity and a sense of accomplishment. "I'm proud of what I've built."

"It reflects my belief that there is beauty in both tidy and wild spaces. It's where I feel connected to nature, where I can marvel at the variety of flowers and trees and see God's handiwork in their uniqueness," she says.

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"For now, my garden remains a personal space, but I dream of expanding its purpose. Whether through agro-tourism or creating a commercial garden, I believe this is just the beginning," says the mother of four.

Lessons

In her garden, she meditates. Ultimately, she plans to write a book that captures the lessons her garden has taught her: resilience, patience and the beauty of imperfection.

What else does she love about her garden? "The rolling views of Tigoni, the Ngong' Hills, the spectacular sunsets".

Her garden is a metaphor for her life - a little messy, a little wild, but full of colour, beauty and peace. It's not just a place; it's a testament to her survival. No longer hiding from the world, Mary gingerly welcomed it, knowing that her garden - and her soul - could weather any storm.

And so Mary is flourishing, not because life had been kind, but because she had learnt to flourish in spite of it all.

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