I Came to Cross the Bridge : But a Hippo Almost Beat Me To It

I never quite made it across the Kitengela Glass Bridge. Not for lack of trying—oh, I tried. 😅

There is a photo somewhere of me, dressed like I was headed to a revival service. Long flowing gown, heels made for praise breaks not peril, standing midway on that swaying, wood-paneled dare of a bridge. My face is a picture of quiet terror wrapped in stubborn dignity. 😂

This was just as the world was stretching out from the long shadow of Covid-19—loss, lockdowns, and long silences still clinging to us. I had friends visiting from France, lovely people who had come to see our program. I thought I was offering them a charming, rustic Kenyan escape.

“Mild,” I said.

“Magical,” I promised.

It was neither.

What I delivered… was me trembling in full regalia, halfway across the bridge, questioning my life choices and shoe selection.

The bridge creaked and groaned like it had secrets. Every gust of wind felt like nature whispering “you sure you want to do this, mama?” I held the ropes tighter than I have held some relationships—and made a very dignified retreat, unashamedly..

That is when I realized: this was not just a bridge. This was a rite of passage. And Rongai? Rongai is not just a town. It is a living, breathing, unpredictable character in the story of Nairobi.

You see, nothing in Rongai happens quietly. This is the only place where you might spot a lone hippo taking a moonlight stroll near your estate, or find buffaloes casually inspecting fences like they are property agents. Warthogs are more common than potholes, and if you are lucky, you will see a giraffe stretching beside you while you jog past a boda boda jam( haha)

And then there are the nganyas—blaring music, flashing lights, full-on mobile raves with names like Thunder Struck, MoneyFest, Ambush, and so on. You do not ride them. You survive them while holding on to your wig and skirts, and emerge on the other side with a slightly shifted spirit and ringing ears.

But in the middle of all this wildness is beauty. Real, raw, unexpected beauty. The kind you find in the blown glass masterpieces at Kitengela, where fire meets creativity. In the quiet elegance of the park-view hotels, where you sip coffee while zebras roam in the background. In the roadside nyama choma joints where strangers become friends and time forgets to hurry.

And perhaps the most iconic backdrop of all? The Nairobi National Park—the only national park in the world nestled within a capital city—sprawls its wild charm right into Rongai’s edge, blurring the lines between cityscape and savannah. It is not unusual here to share space with the wild, where concrete meets claw and horn with breathtaking ease.

 And in the midst of all this—beneath the laughter, the trembling heels, and the charm of a rustic day out—unfolds a deeper story. One wrapped in the silent cries of broken lives, untold anguish, children raising children, and the weight of shame and buried anger.

Yet from this ache, something beautiful rises: a quiet resilience, an unwavering focus, and the fierce rebirth of purpose.

This is the story of Birth and Beyond—a story still untold in its fullness, a song whose melody has yet to be given proper justice.

And now, I want to invite you into this world.

On June 7th, we are hosting the Birth and Beyond Charity Run. A run for young mothers. A run for purpose. But also, a run through the heart of a place that is bursting with life and story.

Come for the cause, yes—but stay a little longer. Try the bridge (or do as I did and strike a dignified pose halfway through). Visit the artists. Laugh with the locals. Ride a nganya with the music up and the city alive. Eat. Dance. Breathe in the spirit of the diaspora—just for a day.

And if you have more than a day?
Well, then I can show you some real holes.
Literal ones. 😄

Ever been chased by a warthog on your way to a wedding? Sat frozen mid-scream on the bridge with your dress flying like a flag? I want to hear your story. And if you have never stepped foot in Rongai, maybe this is your cue.

June 7th. Come run. Come roam. Come write your chapter in this beautiful, crazy book we call the diaspora.

Yours truly,

Njeri.

Support a girl 😊.

Registration details on 

https://birthandbeyondkenya.org/en/run/