The year was 1945. My maternal grandparents, Saulo Kasanga and Bathseba Ndeki took a 2 day journey across Dabil Mountain in Dareda ward of the Babati District of the Manyara Region. The didn’t climb this mountain because they were bored or they were adventurous, but because life was calling them to the other side of the country. My maternal side of the family were originally from the Tabora Region, a western part of Tanzania, and my grandfather was a teacher by profession. He was called by the church to teach in Dongbesh, Mbulu District area, a Northern part of Tanzania. So, with their 2 year old second born in their hands and leaving behind everything, including their first born - the set out on a journey. The only communication they had was writing letters. No cell phones, no texting or sharing location. One thinks transportation is difficult in Tanzania now - OH OKAY! So, the journey began.
They took a train, hitchhiked, and walked. Then came Dabil Mountain. Just like in life one does not know what mountain you will encounter. My grandparents, by foot, with no “hiking gear” had to cross one of the roughest and most dangerous mountains in Dareda, Mountain Dabil. AND, they actually made it! They found a new home in Dongobesh and successfully raised all of their 9 children (their first born with others family members join them later). My grandparents end up making lasting impact, which I am thinking a lot about now.
I never understood their courage and faith they had to make this journey. Honestly, I still don’t understand, but one thing I know and believe is same God and spirit that led and guide my grandparents in 1945 is the same that will lead and guide me as journey to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.
