The Old Colonial House On Eldama Ravine Road.

From outside, it’s your normal abandoned house with an overgrown fence and thickets ;one of those you see in fiction horror films where paranormal activities are the norm, but once inside everything folds out differently; the house itself is a movie, a 1930 classic.The huge rusty brown gates open to a concrete pathway with traces of Jacaranda flowers and dry leaves. It leads all the way to the front porch. A well maintained expansive compound with neat manicured grass and tall indigenous trees with thick barks surround the house. Small soil paths meander around the garden with flower shrubs on either sides. The flowers are full bloom. I envision a small white girl of about 4 years dressed in a faded short denim dress bent on one of the shrubs picking a peach rose,  her name is Judith...the year must be around 1947.

Two massive black doors with circular patterns lead you to the front door; a brown strong looking mahogany piece with a brass handle. A wooden switch is placed squarely on the rough wall next to a huge window with black dusty panes; drawn on it is a bell icon. I press it; the way Judith’s father, Albert would have on an evening of 1949 after a long day at work probably manning a group of captured MauMau fighters.

The door gives way and a musty smell strikes me, it gives me a too familiar feeling...that of old, old novels. A narrow corridor leads to the lounge and here my fantasies are confirmed. It’s just how I always picture such houses. The lounge is so spacious designed in a crescent shape, the floor to ceiling windows are in the same shape too draped in large, fuchsia vintage curtains. A brown framed painting leans on one side of the wall, I can’t really tell what is of but it spells one word; timeless! A small inbuilt bookshelf with a stack of novels and magazines peeps through the cream wall. Next to it is a stone fireplace...my mind wanders. Judith’s nanny is sited in front of it on a rocking chair, her eyes fixated on a cream shawl she is crocheting,  it must be the July of 1956; the fireplace is full of hot yellow embers.

Two corridors lead to either sides of the house, I take the left one. There are so many rooms. I get into what looks like a study room. A small circular table is set at the centre surrounded by three wooden chairs. Beneath is a wooden plank.  I push the table aside and alas! The plank is moveable. A spiral shaped stairway goes all the way to the bottom of a square dark room which looks like a hideout. I peer inside and can make out several eyes looking back at me; Is the Albert family under attack? The year is 1955.

I pass an empty room on my way to the kitchen. From the cream land line hanging out from the wall to the glass hatch, I can tell this is a dining area. Steps lead you to the spacious open plan kitchen lined with vintage cupboards. I open one and I can see several utensils mostly made of tin. A piece captures my eyes; its an almost new blue tray. The word Pepsi is inscribed at the middle. The pantry is on the farthest side of the kitchen. It is full of empty spice and foodstuff containers; “Kimbo”, “margarine”, “nuvita”, some brands are familiar though they are all in different packaging from what we see today. Two long taps stick from the wall into the dry concrete sinks. It’s been a while since they were used. Two small windows with cream blinds overlook the backyard which is full of herbs and fruit trees. A small brick cottage with tiny wooden windows stands at one side of the yard, it must be a servants quarter...I can’t help but envision the December of 1956...

Alex the family puppy trots into the kitchen wagging its tongue. Judith follows closely with a beaming smile; She is dressed in a white Cinderella dress with pink puffy doll shoes. Her hair is held in a ponytail put into place by pink and purple ribbons. Mrs Albert is bent on the four cooker oven with heavy gloves on her hands; It’s Judith’s thirteenth birthday.

I go back to the lounge and take on the right corridor. By now I have lost count of the rooms inside. I enter one that looks like a bedroom.  It is very dark inside and I have to draw the blinds; The wooden floor is well polished and shiny. A few framed photos line one side of the wall. One is of several white girls dressed in miniskirts and stockings; I imagine Judith at the front row, probably with her classmates. A square table leans at a corner of the room, on it is a land line and a pile of lifestyle magazines. I flip through and can’t make out any of the celebrities featured. A huge black closet stands on one corner. It’s empty save for a few papers and files. I spot a beautiful ladybird calender with graphics of peter pan dated 1986; This I take for keeps. At the middle is a sizeable dressing table with an oval shaped mirror...I let my mind stray. It’s 1961...Judith is sited infront of it putting on mascara expertly, she is getting ready for her first date. Mrs Albert is standing behind her weaving her long blonde hair. She stands back to admire her work with watery eyes; her small girl is all grown up.

I'm running out of time. I need to get back to the office. I quickly go through the other rooms and I'm awe struck every time I turn the handle. I take photos for memories, grab my souvenirs and get outside. It feels like I have come out of a time machine. I head towards the main gate and open the latch. I look back to get a last glance of the house...The Albert family is hurriedly loading suitcases on their truck; “The plane leaves at three, we cant get late” Albert shouts.

 It is December the 15th, 1963.