No sane man would dive into a river knowing expressly that it’s infested with hungry crocodiles and hippos.
It’s like taking a deliberate plunge into a death trap. Foolhardy, isn’t it? Risky and an attempt at suicide, right? Not so for the youth in Tana River, whose job entails routine diving to the riverbed to harvest sand.
Harrowing tales have been told of the depths of the river, with locals branding it the ‘den of death’. If it’s not the raging waters that might sweep you away, then it is the crocodile or hippo, lurking in the shadows.
This has, however, not stopped the brave youth in Miembeni village from dancing with the depths of the Tana. Abubakar Ishmael, 27, was only 17 when he took his first dive.
For the past 10 years, he has been a daredevil ‘investor’ here, now experienced to be a master of the hustle.
Perform rituals before diving
“Our day begins at 5am, when we gather for prayers then put on our diving suits. We then perform certain rituals prior to diving to appease our ancestors,” he says. The rituals include drumming, making noises aboard canoes and singing.
“The noises scare away crocodiles and hippos. As one group dives, others sing and shout. Calm waters provide a good hunting environment for crocodiles. They swim closer to the riverbanks where they pounce on people fetching water or animals quenching their thirst,” says Ishmael.
During the mating season – between August and November – dozens of crocodiles are often seen looking for food.
For the sand divers, it’s not an easy job. Here, there are no modern dredging machines but canoes, 20-litre jerry cans, and a traditional bead – for good luck – given to each of the divers by elders.
Usually, Ishmael dives into the riverbed with a jerry can to scoop the sand, then emerges to empty it into the canoe. This happens repeatedly until he meets his target for the session to allow another diver to go in.
At the docking area, another group waits with spades to unload the canoes and mount the sand by the riverbanks for buyers.
“This is our daily life; we come here as early as 5am when the water is cold and leave at noon. That is mandatory for all of us because the warmer the water, the higher the risk of being attacked by a crocodile,” offers Ishmael.
Despite the risks involved, the biting poverty at home sends them to the riverbed every morning. “After all, we will all die someday, but I should not die of hunger, or watch any of my family members going without a meal,” he says.
Ishmael is the first-born and had to quit school in Form One to fend for the family after his father died.
“After several attempts on other manual jobs, I resolved to join my friends at the river. A man who used to work with my father trained me, although he was opposed to the idea at the beginning. He was not polite, he would insult me for making mistakes he termed dangerous and chased me away several times, but I kept coming back,” he recalls.
Mohammed Bargui, a diving trainer, says some mistakes could lead to drowning.
He buys a canoe of sand at Sh60, which translates to between Sh800-Sh1, 200 per day for the harvesters.
“If you are fast enough, you can leave the ‘mines’ with more than Sh1,000, which translates to about 17 canoes of sand, but most of us do 20,” he says.
As the lead supervisor of the site, Ishmael is always the last person to leave the water, making sure that everyone is safely out.
“I have lost two friends here. One stayed behind to enjoy a swim. Sadly, he was still new, and was mauled by a crocodile,” he recalls.
Some of the sand harvesters are university graduates who returned to the village due to lack of formal jobs.
Joseph Jillo, who holds a degree in Microbiology from Moi University, has been in the trade for seven years. “It’s not easy living in Nairobi without a job. I almost turned to crime in Jericho as depression took a toll on me,” he says, now the ‘accountant’ of the divers’ table banking group.
“We also use the sand to produce construction blocks, which is value addition. However, we are still are grappling with lack of machines for large-scale production,” he notes.
While a truck of sand costs Sh12, 000, blocks fetch Sh18, 000.
At least 80 youths make a living from sand harvesting in the county, giving the county administration more than Sh200, 000 in tax revenue daily.
