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Chahilu’s Funeral; Logooli Culture in action

Guuga Chahilu was respectfully laid to rest at his home on Saturday 14th June 2025. Having passed on at Mbale Referral Hospital on 31st May 2025, the two weeks leading to his burial were full of cultural discussions. His passing on is a great loss to the Logooli Language and Culture Family as he was a custodian and informer of Luhya Indigenous Knowledge. An observation as to how the funeral proceeded leads us to revist Logooli traditions amidst modern realities.  One, having left the house alive and now coming back in state, Chahilu was to be taken inside the house, placed muihiilu for a moment and then officially taken out in wait for earth burial. His casket was able to enter the doors. There are cases where the dead would find it difficult to be taken in and then out due to an oversized casket or thin door. A man or a lady of his house who died out of home has to be taken in the house for a last ritual mark. But if the person had died inside, he or she would not be brought bac...
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KUSA 2013/14 DIARY

On this day, 27th October 2013 we visited Malindi for adventure. To any first timer, there was much to keep the lips apart in awe.
It is in the very morning that some cash went missing mysteriously in one of the rooms. Who stole 6, 000/= ?
The Vasco da Gama pillar stood strong as a mountain. I could not have a close view. A theft case kept us at the bus park for long. But I could not fail to rush at the sea shore to pick minute shiny shells for my aesthetic plate. There, I bought the shell-made necklace. Everyone bought though!
That bridge on the way to Lamu…What is the name of the river? And the place? Lunch was taking long and I had to sort myself there. So where had I kept my extra cash? The thief at least had left behind some coins.
Until we entered the KU owned Hotel, I had not yet known what best Mombasa could offer. At the entrance, you could either get perplexed by the seats and screen to avoid the rest or get into the rush of being greedy for anything.
The buildings erected to face the endless waters. The breeze combed the shores to allow more deposits of the glittering soil. Creamy crabs had began to wander in the late evening. The walled fence prevented them from having a view of the swimming pool that comrades rocked. Who brought in the ball?  Where is Rashid, the top scorer?
Should I talk about the dancing session that followed? I beg not. I will underscore in depicting the real acts and feelings. To do justice to the best reminiscent ones, I decide to keep quiet and let the men and women who danced to the best of their flexibility and waist loyalty remember for themselves. Those who were not there should not get jealous in their imaginations.
Who wanted to leave that early though it was late into the night? Who could remember the campaigning agony?

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