lesser flamingoes at dusk

Ol Oldien is a little-known soda lake separated by a sliver of land from its more famous cousin, Lake Naivasha. It’s a contrast of tapestries between the two water bodies in the Rift Valley, surrounded by beautiful massifs which watch over them in silent gaze.

Yet the Great Rift crafted by millennia of turbulent quakes and shakes has only been silent for a short while.

Years back, it spewed tongues of red hot molten lava and fires to produce one of the world’s greatest landmarks which is visible from outer space. It is lined with lakes full of lore and mystery, dynamic and as mysterious as the valley.

The secret shores of Ol Oldien with its crusted shoreline is as bare as the lunarscape yet it belies the stranger walking in its midst. Tiny mounds of clay between the water’s edge and the green glade of grass and acacias show that the pretty pink birds busy with their beaks tipped upside down in the alkaline water have built the clay nests to lay their eggs.

Yet there are no eggs on the mounds, and if there were, it would have set ornithologists around the world in a frenzy of celebrations for these very choosy birds only nest in secluded places like Lake Natron in Tanzania.

“I only started seeing flamingos here a few years ago,” says Tony Kennaway of the Ol Joto clan.

“This lake was attached to the main lake until a few years ago.” A resident recalls a time when he could swim to the middle of the lake and even drink the water. In a span of three decades, Ol Oldien shrank from a depth of 25 metres to five with the water turning alkaline.

Part of it has to do with Naivasha’s fresh water attracting scores of flower farmers to its pristine shores to siphon the precious liquid to water their buds.

A polite list of do’s and don’ts in the cosy cottages of the Ol Joto clan asks guests not to walk within 100 metres of the water’s edge as the finicky birds that colour Africa’s skies pink start a stampede when disturbed and in the process can break a leg or two.

Walking down the garden with its short cropped grass that’s never seen a lawn mower but is kept trim thanks to the hippos living at the edge of the garden in the lake, we follow their enormous footprints pattering the crusted dry shores, which until the drought happened, was blue and underwater.

Like I said, it’s a tapestry of colour and contrast. Africa patterned by its wildlife. The hardy grass is turning a hue of green with the few showers of rain.

Towering yellow-fever acacias stand like sculpted towers of twig and thorn on totem poles and in the silence of the glades, towering giraffes browse on the thorn trees.

It’s a special world in the cool evening with the rising crepuscule moon rising in the skies.

The giraffes are close but camouflaged, and we can hear them moving amongst the trees. The forest opens up to the clear glade of grass where herds of zebras browse. Longonot peeps over the Ol Karia hills with the Mau stretching on the western side.

The flamingos keep a lively twitter. The water is not too salty for the hippos that lie in it waiting for the night to descend for their midnight feast on the savanna sprawl, which extends way beyond the Ol Joto and over the high point of Eburru, which is taller than Longonot’s peak.

After a sumptuous dinner on the verandah and a read by the log fire in the lounge, it’s time to retire.

In the middle of the night, a hyena laughs and out by the window stands a lone giraffe browsing on the tall acacia under a sprinkle of stars – it’s just awesome.

Now just in case you’re wondering what clan of Maasai the Ol Joto is – it’s a very special clan made up of the Kennaway family with the first letter of the two daughters and the parents making the Ol Joto clan – Olivia, Lindsay, Joey and Tony.