The first time I met the national squad was interesting. Kenya is the only country outside the top cricketing nations that employs its players full time, this is partly because of a desire to put in place a professional structure so they can compete at the highest level but mostly because we can afford to because it is so cheap to employ people as wages are very low. The change down the back of Kevin Pietersen’s sofa would cover our annual wage bill.
I turned up at our training ground, the Aga Khan Club (I thought he was more into horses?!), and had a look around the ‘facilities’. Tired would be being extremely kind, knackered more appropriate and to be entirely accurate a bit crap is a fair description. As one of the top 12 ranked teams in the world you would expect a decent standard of pitch but as I walked across the outfield I started wondering if there were any snakes lurking in the ankle high grass, or maybe a lost tribe of pygmies had taken root by the far boundary where the grass was even longer. The groundstaff came out and started hacking a path towards the square with scythes and machetes so they could put up the nets.
While they set about erecting a ‘structure’ that consisted of what looked like an old trawler’s fishing net wrapped around some driftwood I was introduced to the squad. Like any group of cricketers (or young blokes in general) there was a mixture of the cocky, the surly, the painfully shy, the friendly and the can’t be bothered, and then there was Nehemiah. Nehemiah makes the Cheshire cat look like he has been sucking a lemon, the lad has the biggest smile in the world. He is also the most sartorially challenged individual on the planet, and I say that in all confidence. The sad thing is he thinks he looks great and some of the other lads do too. I really wish I had had the courage to take a picture of one outfit he showcased but I just didn’t have the heart, starting from the bottom up he was adorned with silver and electric blue ankle high boots, black shiny skin tight trousers (at least I think he was wearing something below the waist), an electric blue t-shirt, black (I’ll be generous and call it leather) jacket, electric blue checked scarf and white sunglasses, capping it all off was and electric blue cap perched on top of his mop of dreadlocks. He looked like the lovechild of Michael Jackson and Rupert the Bear (if the rumours about those two are true, he could well be!).
After being introduced and shaking hands I was invited to join the group hug and morning prayer – a daily ritual before practice starts. Now I reckon that if anyone had taken a picture of our special moment I would be fairly easy to spot. As I stood there arms over the shoulders of my new best pals Alfred and Elijah, I thought it would be a few quick words and a few uncomfortable moments of awkwardness and that would be that. Well I am all for people having faith if that makes them happy but I have sat through shorter weddings than this bloody prayer!
Eventually once everyone and everything had been thanked, blessed, praised, forgiven and generally shown ‘the way’ they got started. I stood with the coach and started to try to put names to faces.
‘That’s Collins isn’t it?’ I asked. Collins is the one player I recognised because he had a season in English county cricket.
‘Yes boss, and that’s his brother David.’
I should have realised that them both being called Obuya but then things started getting really complicated.
‘Then we have got the other brothers,’ said the coach, there are four of them.
Looking at my squad list I ventured that presumably Nelson and Nehemiah must be brothers, both being called Odhiambo, they look pretty similar too, same build, similar features, same dreadlocks.
‘No, they are not related but they are from the same tribe.’
‘Is that a common name then, Odhiambo, a bit like Smith or Jones back home?!’
‘No boss, it’s not very common at all,’ came the deadpan reply.
‘The brothers are Shem, Lameck, Nehemiah and James.’
‘So Shem Obado, Nehemiah Odhiambo, James Ngoche and Lameck Onyango are all brothers? How does that work with the names?’
‘In Kenya some people go by their mother’s name, some will use the father’s name and some will use their tribal name.’
‘That’s pretty complicated isn’t it?’
‘It can be, especially when they change between them pretty regularly, day by day sometimes.’
Needless to say I am on first name terms with the players now, mainly because I haven’t got a bloody clue what they will be called from one day to the next and even if I did I couldn’t pronounce it anyway!
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