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I have never left the house and failed to encounter something unbelievable. Not once. This particular morning began with a 24-kilometre walk from Likoni Ferry to Kongo River in Diani. I left home at 4.34 a.m., slightly worried that I might not find a matatu that early. I did. It turns out Mombasa wakes up much earlier than I thought. The fare was KSh 70, cheaper than the morning rush-hour price, which is usually between KSh 80 and KSh 100. At Lights, near Kengeleni, several passengers alighted, giving a man seated at the back a chance to finally say hello. He had recognised the branded Mombasa Walk Movement T-shirt I was wearing. He was joining the walk too. I sat beside him, and we started talking about the walks and how they seem to sneak up on you. One moment, you are living comfortably as a nocturnal homebody. The next, you are awake at 4 a.m., moving mountains to make sure you do not miss a single walk. There was hardly any traffic. Apart from the stop at Kengeleni, the matatu was moving so quickly that there would have been little advantage in taking an Uber or Bolt. Just as that thought crossed my mind, we heard a loud bang. The matatu had a puncture. We were already within walking distance of the ferry, but I wanted to arrive on time. Getting there early means you have time to stretch and can begin the walk at a relaxed pace instead of rushing to catch up. The conductor inspected the damage and hailed a tuk-tuk before we had even properly climbed out. Only four passengers remained. Everyone else had alighted at Saba Saba or Posta. The conductor paid the tuk-tuk driver, and our journey continued. The driver was deeply sympathetic about the puncture, even though it had barely delayed us. He asked about our plans for the day and helped us find the place where the other walkers had gathered. We almost convinced him to join us. It was only 5.09 a.m., and I had already made two new friends. Mombasa really is a hospitable town. I walked around the gathering crowd to see whether “my people” had arrived. Humans really are social creatures. Show up somewhere consistently, and you are bound to find someone you become fond of. Unless you are a motivational speaker. Then we might avoid you. My people were there, and we took some photographs. Photos are important. Always take them. They hold memories that become more valuable with time. At 5.30 a.m., we began moving towards the ferry. Pedestrians normally enter through a gated area where security officers conduct checks before allowing people into the waiting enclosure. There are separate seating areas for women and men, although the arrangement is not enforced so strictly that someone will immediately ask you to move. Because our group was large and the walk was organised, we were allowed to enter through the vehicle side. We stretched briefly before boarding and continued stretching once we were on the ferry. Even with a large group moving around, the vessel barely seemed to rock as it crossed the Likoni Channel. We docked on the southern side, more walkers joined us, and the journey properly began. The stretch between the ferry and Kona Mpya can feel chaotic. It is loud and congested, with matatus, boda bodas, cars, vendors and pedestrians all competing for space. At barely 6 a.m., there was already traffic. We walked quickly, eager to get beyond the busiest section. Eventually, the road opened into beautiful greenery. The noise faded, the air felt fresher and the temperature became noticeably cooler. Moderate weather makes long walks much more enjoyable. Your body generates heat as you move, and the breeze cools you down before you become uncomfortable. The air smelled of mangoes. Mango trees made up a large part of the greenery, and as a foodie, no delicious scent goes unnoticed. I also spotted coconut, lemon, orange and jackfruit trees. The fruit is usually displayed in makeshift roadside vibandas, but it was still early, and most vendors had not yet set up. We stopped for water at Waa Girls Junction. I still cannot believe there is an area simply called Waa. It sounds invented. I paused to photograph the walkers passing by, stretched for a while and drank an entire 500 ml bottle of water. Just beyond the junction, we came across the first fruit vendor of the day. He was still arranging his stall and had three varieties of mangoes as well as madafu. Madafu are young coconuts harvested before their husks fully mature. Their water is refreshing and especially welcome during a long walk in coastal weather. Despite having just finished my water, I wanted one. Every piece of fruit cost KSh 50. The excitement of eating fresh mangoes took over our conversations as we continued walking. The sun was still gentle, the breeze had our hair floating as though we were in a romantic comedy, and everyone’s energy remained high. Then the wind became stronger. A few caps chose the wind over their owners. Just before Kombani, it began to rain. It started as a light shower, but within five minutes it was pouring down. One lesson from walking around the Coast is that you should always carry something to protect your phone from water. It does not matter how sunny it looks when you leave home. Rain can arrive suddenly, and anyone walking near the sea also risks being splashed by waves or tides. A small waterproof pouch, plastic bag or raincoat can save your phone. I had chosen breathable shoes because I expected the day to become hot. Instead, I found myself walking in wet socks. It was not the most pleasant feeling, but walking barefoot on tarmac would have been worse. Long distances on a hard, rough surface can easily leave your feet blistered. The rain became so heavy that the droplets felt like tiny stones

I often describe myself as a man of two worlds. I was born in Taita in 1963 and spent much of my childhood in a rural setting where food was simple, nourishing, and deeply rooted in tradition. Our daily meals consisted mainly of ugali accompanied by traditional vegetables. Another staple was kimanga, a hearty mash made from beans mixed with cassava, sweet potatoes, green bananas, or arrow roots. Rice was a luxury. In our home, it was reserved for special occasions, particularly Christmas Day. The anticipation would build for weeks, and when the day finally arrived, a plate of rice served with beans or meat felt like the finest meal imaginable. Once Christmas passed, we would begin looking forward to the next opportunity to enjoy it. Everything changed in December 1976 when I arrived in Likoni, Mombasa South. For a young boy from Taita, it felt like entering a completely different world. At the time, Likoni was predominantly inhabited by the Digo community, one of the nine Mijikenda groups. Their way of life blended traditional African customs with centuries of Swahili influence. Their language, dress, hospitality, and food reflected a rich cultural heritage shaped by generations of interaction along the East African coast. What fascinated me most was the food. Suddenly, familiar ingredients appeared in forms I had never imagined possible. Cassava, sweet potatoes, and bananas—foods I had known all my life—were transformed through the use of coconut milk into dishes that were both comforting and remarkably different. The aroma alone was captivating. Then there was the rice. Back in Taita, rice had been a once-a-year luxury. In Likoni, I discovered that rice could become many different delicacies. Pilau, biryani, wali wa nazi, and mandi each possessed their own flavour, texture, and character. The careful blending of spices created aromas that drifted through neighbourhoods and announced celebrations long before guests arrived. Food became my first introduction to coastal culture. Over time, I learned that these dishes represented much more than culinary skill. They told stories of trade, migration, faith, and cultural exchange. The cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, and other spices reflected centuries of interaction between African communities and traders from Arabia, Persia, India, and beyond. Food also became a bridge between communities. As people from different backgrounds settled in Likoni, friendships formed, cultures mixed, and families intermarried. Shared meals became opportunities to learn from one another. Through food, people who might otherwise have remained strangers found common ground. Today, Likoni is home to people from virtually every corner of Kenya. Yet the influence of Swahili food culture remains remarkably strong. Many families who settled at the Coast adopted local recipes and later carried them back to their home counties. Dishes once associated mainly with coastal communities can now be found across the country. Life in Likoni has always revolved around movement and connection, and nothing symbolizes this better than the Likoni Ferry. Since arriving in 1976, I have watched the ferry system evolve alongside the community itself. At the time, three ferries served the crossing: MV St. Michael, MV Mvita, and MV Safina. As the population grew, additional ferries including MV Harambee, MV Kilindini, MV Nyayo, MV Likoni, MV Kwale, MV Jambo, and MV Safari were introduced. For generations of Likoni residents, the ferry has been more than a means of crossing the channel. It is where stories are exchanged, friendships are strengthened, and everyday life unfolds. Older residents often joked: “The ferry is a wonder. It carries thousands of people every day without sinking, yet throw a shilling into the water and it sinks immediately.” The younger generation has its own perspective. One young resident humorously observed: “Cross this place every day for five years and you’ll become fit enough to join a rugby team. If you live in Likoni, you don’t need to pay for a gym.” There is truth in the joke. The daily rush to catch the ferry, combined with long walks and busy schedules, has become part of the rhythm of life. Perhaps that is one reason why the rich and nourishing delicacies of the Coast are enjoyed with such enthusiasm. In Likoni, good food and daily exercise have long gone hand in hand. Conversations with older residents reveal how food traditions have evolved over time. They recall a period when cassava cooked in coconut milk was a staple food and fish from the nearby ocean was plentiful. Fish was commonly boiled rather than deep-fried, and meals relied heavily on locally available ingredients. Over time, outside influences introduced new cooking techniques, ingredients, and recipes that gradually became part of coastal cuisine. Yet the spirit of the food culture remained intact: making the most of local resources while welcoming new ideas. The younger generation continues this tradition of adaptation. While many young people still enjoy classic Swahili dishes, they are also creating new combinations that reflect modern Kenya’s increasingly interconnected society. It is now common to find traditional dishes from other communities enhanced with coastal spices. Githeri, kimanga, matoke, and various cereal dishes are often prepared using spice blends inspired by Swahili cooking. Rather than replacing tradition, these innovations demonstrate its resilience. Swahili food culture continues to evolve while retaining its distinctive identity. Looking back over nearly five decades in Likoni, I have come to appreciate that food is one of the most powerful carriers of culture. Recipes preserve history. Meals strengthen relationships. Shared tables encourage understanding between communities. My own journey from Taita to Likoni taught me that food has the ability to transform strangers into neighbours and neighbours into family. That is why Swahili cuisine is about much more than pilau. It is a living record of the Coast’s history and a reminder that some of our strongest connections are made around a shared meal.

Tribearth · Vegan Café · Diani Beach Tribearth VeganBoutique Café Plant-based café and creative space on Diani Beach Road African Cafe Ethiopian $$ – $$$ Vegetarian friendly Vegan A soulful plant-based café on Diani Beach Road known for colourful smoothie bowls, Ethiopian coffee, vegan wraps and a slower, more atmospheric daytime dining experience. Get directions Website Menu Vibrant plant-based dishes at Tribearth Overview Tribearth brings together a plant-based café, a creative retail space and a slower kind of atmosphere than most of the usual Diani dining stops. It is built around vegan food, Ethiopian coffee, Swahili snacks and a setting shaped by art, objects and design. It works best for breakfast, brunch, lunch or a quieter stop during the day rather than a formal evening restaurant experience. What it’s like Expect a relaxed, creative space rather than a fast-turnover restaurant. Seating is partly outdoors under a makuti-style roof, and service tends to move at a slower, more unhurried pace during busy periods. The café blends food with retail and art. There’s a small on-site jewellery space featuring handcrafted pieces, and the walls are lined with work by Kenyan artists. It feels more like a place to spend time than just stop for a quick meal. Staff are generally warm and welcoming, and takeaway is available if you don’t plan to stay. What it’s known for Smoothie bowls Vegan Ethiopian platter Shawarma chapati wrap Ethiopian coffee Cinnamon rolls Creative interiors Good for Breakfast Brunch Lunch Coffee Vegan Vegetarian Remote work Quiet meetups Gallery Opening hours Sunday: 9:00 AM – 8:00 PM Monday: Closed Tuesday – Saturday: 9:00 AM – 8:00 PM Location Area: Diani Beach Road County: Kwale County Address: Diani Beach Road, Ukunda 80400 Ground floor and wheelchair accessible. Open in Google Maps Contact Phone / WhatsApp: +254 706 030625 Email: hello@tribearth.org Instagram: @tribearth Facebook: Tribearth.org At a glance Weekly events and creative sessions Reservations available Delivery available Coffee roasted on site ×