A series of streams from as far as 140 kilometers in the Aberdare ranges, to a closer range of 10 kilometers in Mathare steadily flow parallel to each other, headed eastward. They carry with them the hum of water on a riverbed. The streams, which are seven in number, eventually convergence, resulting in an old River that has seen the transformation of the area that surrounds its main area of flow.
It is said that once upon a time the River was a sparkling wonder abounded with a variety of amphibians and reptiles, flowing through a marshy swampland unoccupied by no one but the sun and the wind. On the hotter days, some animals would trek to the banks of the River and the cool waters would quench their thirst. Sometimes they would return, other times, they would come across the streams of the River and drink to their fill. Seasons came and seasons went, and the swampy area surrounding the River soon dried up for men had planted gum trees and claimed the land as theirs, setting up buildings and shelters, and then streets that were soon given names. As the streets increased, the buildings on them multiplied, and the people in the area surrounding the River too, increased.
The River flowed steadily, peacefully, as the surrounding area took on a different face, one less of nature, and one with smoke and noise in the air; a dramatic transformation. With each passing year, the city became more urban, welcomed more people and with them came a platter of personalities, habits and misfortunes. They walked by the River, meditated by the River, read or sang or danced by the River, and some even cried by the River. It was a safe haven to these people, but their visit forced the fish, the frogs and the water beetles away from the River.
First, the people quenched their thirst from the River, then they started bathing in the River leaving mounds of excretion in the waters that started to turn a muddy brown. With more people accessing paper and the emergence of plastics, the River soon became a dumping site for the City that was by then the administrative capital for the Republic. Buildings took on new forms: they were taller with more windows, they had foundations so deep, the materials used to build their foundation soon seeped into the riverbed. The fish that had stayed on died, suffocated by the daily litter of plastics.
Years after the River first sounded an otherwise silent area, it still flows in the City. Its grotesque form prevents most residents of the City from going near it. It is polluted daily and even attempts to clean it up have eventually stalled. It should have been the River of the City; it was, after all named Nairobi River.