Having successfully climbed to the top of Mount Kenya last year, the next big challenge for dreadlocks activist and CEO, Loctitude Enterprise, Ade Balogun, was always going to be Mount Kilimanjaro. But with the news of a friend that had just been diagnosed with cancer and losing her father just 10 days before departure date, the journey of climbing to the famed ‘Top of Africa’, was always going to be a tough and emotional one. She captured her seven day journey in her diary.
Last year, I kept a journal on my Mt. Kenya climb and I’m so glad I did. It is a record of an event worth recollecting, so I intend to do the same with this journey. A recurring question that accompanies physical activity, especially when it’s not a competition is, ‘why?’ Mt. Kenya was about getting to the peak. This time, Mt. Kilimanjaro will be about getting to the peak and getting down.
My dad passed away 10 days ago. I had planned this trip since last year and the dilemma was whether to go or not to go. The decision I made is evident and the ‘why’ has more clarity than ever, than all the other climbs I have ever done. This one is for me, my head, my mind, knowing that life will always happen and only the tough will survive and it is up to us all to choose our turf. I remember watching something yesterday, not even sure on what platform and it said – “One who finds his way must first choose a path.”
My friend was diagnosed with breast cancer and I am using this climb to raise funds for her.
I have chosen a path and certain I will find my way.
Details on the trip.
– I had been booked on a return flight on Rwandair from Lagos – Kigali – Kilimanjaro. Spent N257,175 on my ticket. Rwandair informed me a day before my trip that the Kilimanjaro leg of my trip had been cancelled. I was rescheduled through Ethiopia on Ethiopian airlines. I left Lagos at 1:40pm on the 9th of October and landed
Ethiopia at 9pm. Had a long layover of 13 hours, so I got a hotel room (on the airline) in Addis called the Blue Sky. It was an average experience. However, I got to add Ethiopia to the list of countries I have visited.
– For exercise, I have been active all year round, combining running and HIIT (Joe Wicks videos on YouTube). I did a personal 30-day run challenge, running at least 5km everyday between Aug 19 and Sept 19. I put in some 10k runs, beating my personal best 10k time. My current PB 10k is 01:08mins. Even I am shocked. The running helped me keep a clear head during my dad’s illness.
– Ngumo, my guide and my friend whom I met years ago in Lagos, will be going up the mountains with me. Everyone else whom I had planned the trip with became unavoidably unavailable. It seems like the universe has spoken. This one is for me, in memory of daddy and for Damola.
– Altitude, cold and food were my biggest problems on the last climb. This time, I am not afraid, partly because I have an idea on what to expect. Ngumo also called two or three nights ago to remind me that it won’t be easy, especially the last day. I remember the lessons from Mt. Kenya. Easy does it. Pole Pole. I will ensure I leave enough in the tank to come down.
So there, the trip has begun.
October 11, 2019.
7:30am, Q-Wine Hotel, Moshi Town, Kilimanjaro, Tanzania
We arrived Kilimanjaro International Airport yesterday at about 12:50pm local time. The airport is small, clean and seemed to have a zero tolerance for infectious diseases. I hear some cases of Ebola are being under reported in Tanzania. We were asked to sanitise our hands on entry, stopped for temperature checks, yellow fever card, and had our boarding passes reconfirmed before proceeding to clear immigration.
The queue moved very slowly. It eventually got to my turn and my visa reference on their system appeared to be missing. My clearance took almost 20 minutes as opposed to five. I was eventually waved through to baggage claim. I hadn’t locked my bag from home and made a last-minute decision at Lagos airport to seal my luggage with a plastic wrap considering I had a long layover. Plastic bags are banned in Tanzania, so I was immediately asked to unwrap my bag. Suddenly, I was asked into a room for a security search.
Getting the African treatment (more like the Nigerian treatment) from an African in Africa is such a moral killer. There were barely any other black people that arrived with me from Addis and I certainly felt black being the only one pulled aside. I was asked questions like – why are you travelling alone? When did you buy your ticket? What agency did you use? How did you pay for it? Where is the card you used to pay for it? Why are you here? Which tour company did you use? When are you leaving? Where is your return ticket? Why are you on separate carriers on both legs? I was patient and focused on answering the questions I was asked.
Then the search began short of stripping me naked and putting a finger up my ass, everything in my luggage was ransacked. I was asked why I had so many tablets – pain killers, multi vitamins, muscle relaxants, antihistamines and a pain relief balm. Woman, I am going to climb a mountain, I may need them, it is called preparedness. My empty suitcase was taken out again to be rescanned. Thankfully, there was nothing to be found. When she was done, she thanked me for my cooperation.
I met Sungura – The rabbit (Local guide), holding up a placard with my name on it just outside the arrival door and the drive to Moshi town started. He said it was a two-hour drive but it felt like 30 minutes as I slept through it. He checked me into the Q-Wine Hotel, which feels very similar to The Lagos Hotel in Nairobi. Ngumo joined us. We had lunch at a local bar. Let me call what I ate pretend Jollof rice and chicken. It was tasty but nothing beats Nigerian jollof.
On getting back to the hotel to discuss the money part of the trip, we were sitting in Ngumo’s room when the mountain showed her face. Kilimanjaro! Sitting up in the sky, beautiful and majestic, hiding behind the clouds all this while. For longer than a moment the view was daunting. What the hell do I think I’m trying to do? Climb this mountain? Why?
October 12, 2019
6:51am, Machame camp – Mt. Kilimanjaro
During my 30-day run challenge, I felt every run will be easier but quickly realised that every run is a run and almost certainly every first kilometer is the hardest.
I started out this journey so determined to kick life in its face and felt prepared but Mt. Kilimanjaro humbled me on day one. We got to Machame gate early afternoon. Our local guide, Sungura, quickly went about the paperwork while Ngumo and I had lunch and filled our water bottles. I filled my three bottles and put all of them in my backpack. Not too long after the climb started, my shoulder, neck and upper back started to give. I ploughed through telling myself that the 4 – 6 hour climb should be easy, but it wasn’t. Self-doubt set in. If I feel like this on day one, how will I cope for the next six days?
I put on my warm jacket just before we started our climb from 1, 800m above sea level (+1800 ASL). Soon enough, I started to sweat. What a relief but not for long as it started to rain, torrentially. We all stopped to put on our rain gear. Shortly after, things got weird. The steepness of the climb gradually became unforgiving and never ending. I felt dizzy a bit. My legs felt okay but the pain around my neck was sharp and for lack of a better word, painful. Thankfully, my medicine pack was in my backpack. I stopped to use some pain relief cream which eased the pain off. But the relief lasted only a few minutes.
I told Ngumo I was struggling. He said you’ve been here before and said no more. I understood. It was me against the moment, my moment. It’s left for me to overcome my battles by myself. The weather was cool because of the rains, but I was sweating myself out. I took off my raincoat even though it was drizzling a little and put it back on afterwards.
To ease my back, I started to drink a lot of water which resulted in me taking pee breaks, a lot of them.
I started dreaming about camp, warm tea, warm bed, maybe; I told Ngumo this and he said don’t. I realised he was right. Dreaming of the end and comfort means one may lose the will to go on when the pain and struggle of the current situation is still imminent.
Pole pole, one leg in front of the other, keep moving. And not too long after, I was rewarded with camp. It was cold, I didn’t realise how cold it was. On getting to Machame camp, we were required to sign in our names in a register. I couldn’t hold the pen. I couldn’t write. My hands were numb and I didn’t even know. I struggled to write in what must have seemed like a fowl’s scratch. We had dinner. Anything was delicious at that point. It was cold but I wasn’t freaking out.
October 12, 2019
07:52pm, Shira camp, Mt. Kilimanjaro
Today hasn’t been bad at all. I am faring better than yesterday. It’s cold. I’m dealing with it. We left Machame camp at about 8:00am and got here a few minutes past 1pm. It was a very steep climb. Steeper than yesterday.
We started out warm but it started to drizzle midway through our hike. The vegetation has become less dense and the mist is at an all-time high. Visibility is down to about four meters. It is a pity because the views would have been magnificent.
I generally fared better than yesterday. Altitude-wise, I am doing okay. It rained through the day and it’s cold. I looked down a few times and had to remind myself to stay focused on the path and not get myself unnecessarily scared. The highest point of our hike today was +3900m ASL before we came back down to camp at Shira which is +3800m ASL.
October 13, 2019
08:00pm, Baranco Camp, Mt. Kilimanjaro
Today’s hike wasn’t easy. I had to dig deep and think of different things to keep my mind off how I truly felt, reminding myself that pole pole is how we get to the top. Sheesh!!! The top is still so far. Today is freaking day three of seven and I already feel like quitting.
On getting to Lava Tower, it started to snow. It was beautiful. Visibility had been extremely poor because of all the rains. When Sungura told me Lava Tower was just ahead, all I saw was a black cloud. Getting closer, I could barely see the big magnificent rock rising out of the earth. He said Lava Tower camp was just ahead and we could rest when we got there. It seemed like 20 meters away but it took me forever to get to it.
The crew had set up a tent. I was handed a hot cup of tea. Just as I finished it and asked for more, I was told there was no more and we needed to keep moving to Baranco camp. Everyone was wet and shivering. If we got any colder, we would become a team that needed rescue.
Climbing down from Lava Tower camp was through a beautiful, semi aggressive waterfall. Words cannot describe the scenery, I swear. There was no time to even contemplate whether or not I could make the climb down, as standing still to think was not an option. It was freezing. Sungura and the porters made encouraging noises similar to warlike chants. I felt it. I chanted along in my own words – Yes! Yaaaaassssss!!!! Yeah!!! It was glorious. I felt much stronger than I have felt this whole hike. Day three took from me and gave back to me. Baranco camp is at +3850m, so it was downhill hike from Lava Tower supposed to help with acclimatisation. I do well with downward hikes and for the first time in my serious hiking life did I go past three teams of hikers. I am usually always the last person to make it to camp.
This was a small taste of victory, of overcoming. After literally hopping off the mountain and signing my name in with very shaky hands; the cold sank in. Damn!
October 14, 2019
05:47pm, Karanga Camp, Mt. Kilimanjaro
Today is a good day. The sun came out and stayed. We had moments of great scenery and enough time to make short videos as we climbed over the great Baranco Wall. The top of Baranco Wall is at +4200m ASL, the highest point we got to today before settling at Karanga camp which is approximately +4000m ASL.
Summit day is getting closer and closer and +5895m ASL is daunting.
Last night, I didn’t sleep so well. I did a lot of thinking, more like recapping on moments and events of the last six months with my dad. So this afternoon, I slept for almost two hours at Karanga camp. I had a few weird dreams. Woke up thinking it is time to de-clutter my mind. Holding on to uncontrollable events of the past is a waste of mind space and brain power.
Today’s climb was relatively easy. I enjoy coming downhill so much that I skip past teams that are ahead in a heartbeat. Apparently, most people find coming down difficult on the knees. So far so good, I have no regrets taking this trip.
October 15, 2019
Afternoon, Barafu camp, Mt. Kilimanjaro
It is an extremely beautiful day. The sun has been out all day. We made our way slowly from Karanga camp to Barafu camp (base camp). We are back at +4673m ASL. The acclimatisation game stops here. Tonight we attempt Uhuru Peak, a 5km hike from Barafu camp, estimated 7 hour time to get there. The camp is full, there are tents in every corner. We are now in the Alpine desert parts of the mountains. No trees, just rocks and loose brown earth. We are to start our climb at midnight. Most people start between midnight and 2am to enable you have spectacular views of the sunrise from Stella’s point at the least.
October 16, 2019 -Summit day
06:04pm, High camp, +3700m ASL, Mt. Kilimanjaro
Today has been a very long day as it started at 11:00pm yesterday. By 12 midnight on the dot, we had been given tea and biscuits and started our summit attempt.
The wind blowing outside the tent was semi-aggressive and not encouraging. Thankfully, there was no rain. I started out by layering two thermal tops, Ngumo’s sleeveless warm jacket, my long-sleeve warm jacket and a wind breaker. All of this
was top gear only. For the bottoms, I wasn’t too dramatic. I wore thermal warm pants, waterproof pants to act as a wind breaker, layered two pairs of warm socks and then my hiking boots. The plan was to be at Stella’s point by 6am-ish and watch the sunrise. Stella’s point was a full non-stop seven hour climb for me.
The steepest part of the climb (almost rock climbing) was the first 45 minutes from Barafu camp. It was expected as Sungura had briefed me. The only problem was that the rest of it was still steep. I knew that getting from +4600m to +5895m is approximately climbing 460 floors. I did the math. There’s no easy way to doing this but to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I tried to focus only on Sungura’s feet ahead of me.
The moon was high and bright, so bright that flash lights were not even required to light our paths. After about 1km into our hike, I looked up and saw Kilimanjaro glistening under the moon light in all her glory. I had no choice but to hail her. Kilimanjaro! Kilimanjaro!! Kilimanjaro!!!
At some point, I started falling behind from fatigue, cold and was gradually losing the will to go on. Ngumo asked me to sing in my language. It was funny but this was the game changer. I started off singing some of my favourite Asa songs – Jailer, Fire on the Mountain, No one knows tomorrow; moved on to Omawumi, ‘Don’t worry’ by Bob Marley, some gyration songs that I used to jog to in secondary school and I finally hit a chord signing Flavour’s ‘Nwa baby.’ Sungura and the other nearby guides joined in and we very excited to sing the – “Ashhh” part of the chorus. Time passed, steps were taken and for a little bit of time, I was the pacemaker for a line of hikers as their guides wouldn’t want to go past us. Still, the cold wasn’t going anywhere.
We had stopped to let a faster team go ahead on the trail and a white lady noticed I was struggling and asked if I was okay. I told her I had never been that cold in my entire life. She offered me hand warmers which I was grateful for. She and Sungura helped to stuff them down my gloves. At some point, I started demanding for the sun. It was meant to have come out by now. I needed any relief from the cold. Not too long after, that beautiful golden orange line appeared on the horizon. It was beautiful but still cold AF. The rising sun also meant one thing. Stella’s Point is near. The top is near. It took forever to get there. I was exhausted, cold, famished and did I already say cold? Stella’s Point is +5700m + ASL but that is not the peak. Uhuru Peak was still an hour away. This was the longest hour of the whole climb, possibly my life.
Stella’s Point to Uhuru Peak is relatively flat, beautiful, picture perfect, straight out of National Geographic but real. Glaciers to the left and right. It all felt too beautiful to the eyes, too perfect to be real. It felt like I only saw this in snippets as I could barely keep my eyes open. I wanted out already. I just wanted to go home. Sungura and Ngumo made sure I stayed in the game and guided me on both sides towards the peak which seemed not to be anywhere in sight. They made up songs calling me Adelina and Ade-Uhuru, trying to keep me awake. Finally, we made it, I was standing on the top of Africa. I didn’t know when I started to cry. Crying is usually not my MO as the LionQueen that I am; but everything made sense at this point. The whys and how I got this far and to this point against some odds made sense. I did this for daddy. I did this for Damola. I did this for me.
We made it to Uhuru Peak at 8:40am, two hours earlier than we had estimated, considering my climbing pace.
We got back to Barafu base camp +4600m ASL at about noon. I went straight to bed and woke up reluctantly for lunch. At this point I noticed my fingers were twice their normal size, same as my wrists. Ngumo said the altitude can do that to you. I hope I haven’t eaten too much on this mountain. After lunch, I went back to bed before being woken that we needed to go down to a lower altitude and slowly make our way off the mountain.
Earlier, coming down from Uhuru Peak, I was slow and it was painful for me, unlike the previous days when I was the star of downhill hikes. We had two choices of camps, Mweka camp at +3000m and then High camp at +3700m. I wanted to go lower but Sungura advised otherwise since my decline was slow. On getting to High camp and freshening up, I noticed I had blisters on my toes. This explains everything. Tomorrow, we get off the mountain. This very worthwhile trip is coming to an end.
Side note: Tipping on Mt. Kilimanjaro is expensive o!
– $8 -10/ porter / day x 7 days x 5 porters
– $10 / day for the waiter
– $15 / day for the cook
– Whatever pleases your heart for the guide.
October 17, 2019
06:42pm, Q Wine Hotel, Moshi Town, Kilimanjaro, Tanzania
This trip is finally winding down and I am so very glad I made it. Kilimanjaro is now behind me. I type from the comfort of a hotel room, but my big toes, especially the left one is throbbing badly. My fingers are like fat little sausages, my feet are swollen, and the right side of my face is gradually beginning to look normal.
This morning, I woke up to sounds of rain hitting hard on the back of my tent. It was however, the warmest night I had spent on the mountain. I wanted to pee badly. The logistics of finding my raincoat, head torch, finding the camp toilets, getting cold and possibly wet were not encouraging at all. Tokyo (the nick name for our waiter) came unzipping the outer tent with news of warm water to freshen up. I finally got up knowing that something wasn’t quite right. I hadn’t seen my reflection in the last six days but I knew that the right side of my face was definitely swollen. Ngumo confirmed it at breakfast and assured me that it would go down. It wasn’t painful, so my thought that I might have been bitten by something didn’t hold. Sungura made light of it when he saw me and said it was the altitude and that I should be okay in a day or so.
The porters, waiter and cook were given their tips. Though expensive, I was happy to give as their support is immeasurable, especially when you consider how difficult their job is. Ngumo had told me that the porters usually sang for their clients when they are given a tip. Being a former porter himself, he found the culture colonial (I was the only African client we encountered on my trip) so I was happy to skip the singing and shake each of the crew members respectfully.
The hike down from High Camp (+3700m ASL) to Mweka gate +3000 m started. Ngumo had given me a blister plaster which I used over my worse blister on the toe right after my big toe on my right leg. This made a difference as my down hill climb was much stronger than yesterday. I confirmed to Sungura that it was the right idea to have rested yesterday instead of attempting to go down to Mweka camp at +3000m. My right knee started to give about two hours into our hike. There was also so much pressure on my toes but with the end so near, the pain was welcome.
The terrain changed beautifully. Just yesterday, we were in a dessert. High camp had some shrubs, by the time we got to Mweka camp we were in a forest, about half hour to the gate, it was a thick jungle. Just before the road trail, Ngumo stopped to take some photos. I asked to see and that was when I realised that the right side of my face had really fallen. Altitude is real.
Four hours is a long time to hike. So you can imagine the smile on my face when we got to the gate. Sungura arranged the paperwork and we were handed our gold certificates for getting to Uhuru Peak. This mission is hereby accomplished.
As you can imagine, I have not had a shower since the 11th of October. My shower time at Q wine must have lasted an hour. The mountain is an experience for sure, but it feels equally as good to be back to civilisation. I had lunch at a bar next to the hotel. I had Ugali (swallow meal) with some greens and chicken, requested for pepper sauce and the meal came to life.
My room has a view of the mountain. It has been covered by clouds this whole time. I hope to have one last real life look at it before I start my journey back home tomorrow.
In July of last year when I climbed Mt. Kenya, I swore to never do it again. This time, my personal challenge to the peak of Africa, has more purpose and meaning that I know I might become a mountain goat. This year has been tough and this experience gives me the will to carry on. I have learnt, I have grown.
For anyone out there who may read this, I hope it means something for you too.
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