The Colonial administrators, in the 1870s, decided it was the turn for Kenya to undergo some social upgrading. In an extensive survey, primarily carried out on the bar of the Nairobi Gentleman’s Club, a schedule of improvements to the natives’ standard of living was drawn up. Then, via the efficient messaging system, this schedule was written up on parchment and delivered to London via mule driver, runner boy, ship’s captain, runner boy, carriage and panting office clerk to the esteemed offices of the Colonial Office. It was then transcribed and delivered by coach to the esteemed offices of Crown Agents in Sutton, some 30 miles south of London. This was not, however, the first time the message had been transcribed as both the mule driver and the ship’s first mate dropped their package in water and hastily drew up another near-identical letter.

It is possible that the original intent of the first letter had been altered somewhat but that did not dissuade the efficiency of the Crown Agents staff from dispatching off a gross of toilet bowls immediately, having been apprised of the desperate need for such equipment in the grossly unhygienic land of Kenya.

Another slight deviation from original intent had the ship heading not to Mombasa but to the more northern port of Lamu. With no colonial representation in this remote and primitive port, the natives were at a loss as to the purpose or destination of these beautifully shaped white things. However, fate intervened in its beautiful way as Kgabu happened to be visiting when this mysterious shipment arrived.

Now, Kgabu jointly ruled the sprawling grassland plain of Arawale, some 200,000 acres of plains and mountains, with his hated brother, Msizi. Despite this massive domain, these warring brothers lived within drum-beat of each other in order to watch over each other’s doings. They would each set up spies to see what the other was up to – how many antelope and lion each had killed, how many wives each had acquired from neighbouring tribes, how many grass houses each had built and so on. So, it was only natural that these smooth, white things would add to Kgabu’s collection of things Msizi did not have. Kgabu was overjoyed and arranged a convoy of mules to convey the pretty things and then rushed home to arrange the building of the largest grass hut ever built to house these fine things.

Msizi was justly jealous but could not be seen to be. He congratulated his brother on his fine things, while wondering what they were. He soon found out as he spied Kgabu taking one out before his people and arranging it in such a way that he could sit upon it. It allowed him to sit a little above his people, now, rather than having to sit on the ground. A veritable throne that garnered him much respect. Though Msizi requested one of these thrones for himself, Kgabu refused. Msizi was incensed.

Msizi was determined to outdo this display of puffery and, some six months later, his scout at Lamu spied another misdirected ship approaching the harbour. He commandeered the cargo, had it shipped back to his corral and inspected the items. An Englishman would have recognised them as kitchen implements but Msizi saw an assortment of strange weapons. Unsure of what to do with them, he asked his men. They all shook their heads sadly. He asked his son, who, at the time, was playing with a small container with tiny sticks in it. Suddenly, a flame shot up and everyone jumped back. After their initial terror died down, Msizi realised they were the reputed fire sticks and his vengeful mind knew exactly what to do with them. With a little practice, his chief warrior was able to use these fire sticks with great efficiency.

Msizi gave Kgabu one more chance to hand over one of his coveted pristine thrones but was again refused. That night Msizi set up a diversionary fire to which all of Kgabu’s people rushed. At the same time, the massively taunting grass hut, housing the thrones was burnt to the ground, as were many of Kgabu’s other grass houses … which just goes to prove that people who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.