![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Stan%20typ%20baby%20pose_1.jpg "\\"Baby")
Elsie Bryant was born on 13 January 1889 in Dulwich, second daughter to Henry Bryant and Alice Rosa Cormack and younger sister to Minnie. She attended James Alleyn's Girls School with her older sister Minnie but, unlike her, never married she once said this was because all the young men were killed in the first World War. She followed her Father into Pearl Assurance and worked there as a clerk until retirement. She lived all her life in SE London, firstly in Dulwich and later in Bromley. In 1950 she bought the semi detached house at 20 Cloisters Avenue, Bickley, nr Bromley with her sister, Minnie, after Sydney had died. Both of them were now closer to Minnie's son Geoffrey, who also lived in Bickley.
Known to the family as \"Auntie Elsie\" she was actually Great Aunt to Janet, Mike, Kathy, Paula and Martin and Matthew. She was the closest they had to a grandmother as her sister, Minnie, died in 1953 before any of the grand children, apart from Janet, were born. She died on 1 May 1982 of pancreatic cancer, aged 93.
I remember Auntie Elsie with great affection, she was a very quiet and quite solitary person but she always made us welcome when we came to stay - which was every time we came on leave from Kenya. She didn't have many friends but one of them was a rather quirky Belgian lady called Gabrielle, who sometimes came to stay while we were there. Gabrielle always wore a hat and coat when she went to the toilet (as it was so cold). Auntie's house didn't have central heating just a coal fire and gas fires in the bedrooms. My Mum stayed with Auntie Elsie when I was just a few weeks old, waiting to sail to Kenya in the sumer of 1950 and she was very supportive, giving practical and sensible advice even though she had never had children of her own. She told Mum \"feed her if she is hungry, don't worry if its not 4 hours since her last feed\".
Auntie Elsie was a keen gardener and had a lovely neat lawn front and back with flowerbeds each side a mass of colourful flowers such as hollyhocks, lupins and delphiniums. At the far end of the back garden there were some trees and a compost area which was a good place for us children to make a den. There was also had a tiny stone air raid shelter which she used as a garden shed. Auntie Elsie kept a china a tea set just for me to pay with when I visited and I would set it out behind her arm chair; she was the one who kept and passed on my family 'heirlooms': some little bits of jewellery and a gold half sovereign that Minnie had left for her first great grandchild - I still have this.
She was a lovely old lady but I think was sometimes very lonely, I remember she would sometimes sit with her head in her hands and say she had lived too long as all her friends and family were dead.
", + "feature_image": "content/images/Elsie about 1960.jpg", + "created_at": "2013-12-27T13:12:00.000Z", + "updated_at": "2014-05-04T15:28:02.000Z", + "status": "draft" + }, + { + "id": 34, + "type": "post", + "title": "Minnie Katherine Bryant", + "slug": "minnie-katherine-bryant", + "html": "Minnie Katherine Bryant was born on 1 July 1887 at 26 Keston Road, Goose Green, Surrey. Her father was Henry Bryant who was a Life Assurance Clerk and her mother was Alice Rosa Cormack, also a clerk, and they were married in 1886 in Dulwich, SE London, where they continued to lived. She had a younger sister, Elsie who was born in 1889. Minnie remembers being teased because her father was pro- Boer and a radical (about 1900)
After attending James Alleyn's Girls School (JAGS) in Dulwich Minnie went on to Bedford College, London and trained as a teacher. She then went back to JAGS to teach Botany. Botany was a new science for girls as Biology was not considered ladylike.
Minnie married Sydney Hunt on 26 April 1913 in Dulwich and they lived in Hillsboro Road, first at no1 with his parents then they bought no 21. When the 1914-18 war broke out and the air raids started, Minnie took her baby, Geoffrey (born in 1914), to live on a farm near Faygate in Kent - for safety and better food.
Minnie and Sydney had two daughters as well as their son Geoffrey - Muriel b 1918 and Irene b 1921. Both girls went to school at JAGS, as did Irene's daughter, Paula.
In 1938, just before the Second World War started, the Hunt family went to live in Loughborough but after her husband died in 1945, Minnie moved back to south London and bought a house with her sister Elsie, at 20 Cloisters Avenue, Bickley, near to where her son Geoffrey was living.
Minnie died at Cloisters Avenue on 11 July 1953, aged 66, from 'acute pulmonary odema /coronary occlusion /coronary atheroma' (Heart attack??)
As I was only 3 years old and living in Kenya when Minnie died so I never knew her as a grandmother but I know she made me toys and clothes and wrote a bedtime story for me (see contents). We only met once in 1951.
", + "feature_image": "content/images/Katherine Hunt.jpg", + "created_at": "2014-04-30T18:48:00.000Z", + "updated_at": "2014-05-04T15:45:06.000Z", + "status": "draft" + }, + { + "id": 33, + "type": "post", + "title": "Sydney Walter Hunt", + "slug": "official-title", + "html": "Sydney Walter Hunt was born on 22 February 1888 at 1 Hillsboro Road, East Dulwich. He was the only son of Edwin William Hunt, a Wine Merchant's Clerk, and Emily Bayman, who had been a barmaid. He had an older sister, Ethel Emily, who died when she was just 6 months old. Both the Hunts and the Baymans were primarily London based families.
Sydney was a chemistry graduate from Imperial College, London and he worked in Morton's Processed Tinned Foods in the East End Docklands. He would have been about 26 when the 14-18 war broke out but he was turned down for even the lowest health grade in the armed services because of his heart condition, a result of rheumatic fever (as a child or youth), so he continued working at Mortons throughout the war.
He married Minnie Katherine Bryant on 26 April 1913. They had 3 children - Geoffrey b1914, Muriel b 1918 and Irene b 1921.
After the war the family were living at 21 Hillsboro Road, Dulwich. His mother Emily was living with them as Edwin Hunt died in 1919. They moved to Loughborough in 1938 because Sydney was offered a job in Genatosan Ltd (Chemicals) which had a factory there and it was an opportunity for the family to get away from London before war broke out.
Sydney died in 1945 at their home 123 Ashby Road, Loughborough, from heart failure (Chronic Rheumatic Carditis). He was only 57.
I never knew Sydney as my grandfather as he died before I was born. He never lived to see any of his children married.
", + "feature_image": "content/images/Sydney 3.jpg", + "created_at": "2014-04-30T17:51:00.000Z", + "updated_at": "2014-05-04T15:55:49.000Z", + "status": "draft" + }, + { + "id": 10, + "type": "post", + "title": "Stanley, Reynolds Stokoe", + "slug": "stanley-stokoe", + "html": "Father of Janet, Michael and Kathy. Went to Kenya in 1950 and stayed until 1984. Now living in Loftus. UK
Stanley (Stan) was born on 16 February 1924 in the village of Ferryhill, County Durham. Legend has it that he weighed in at 16 lbs, but this fact should be treated with some scepticism since his mother, Elizabeth, was tiny, only 4'8, and he was born at home and weighed on the kitchen scales.
He was the middle child of five children, he had two older brothers, Charlie and Jack, and a younger sister and brother Ellen and Don. The picture shows the children in their back yard at Metal Bridge (left to right) Ellen, Stan, Charlie and Jack - Don had yet to be born.
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Stokoe%20children%20at%20M%20Bridge%20%28no%20Don%29.jpg "\\"Stokoe")
His father, Michael, was a coal miner at Tursdale Colliery. The family initially lived at Metal Bridge, a couple of miles away, but they later moved to Tursdale. Their house was in a small terrace: a basic \"two up and 2 down\" with a scullery, no bathroom and an outside toilet, His mother Elizabeth was a full time housewife.
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Dad%20and%20Grandad.jpg "\\"Stan")
In the early days the family's staple diet included 'bread and dip' ie bread and dripping from the Sunday roast. Stan went to the local primary school (East Howell School) and, when he was older, worked on his Uncle Dave's chicken farm in the school holidays; he was not a particularly good student but his Father did not want him to work down the mine. Stan was fortunate, and thanks to the intervention of his Uncle Jack, who was himself a school teacher, Stan was offered a place at Rycotewood School in Tame, Oxfordshire where he started when he ws 14. This school changed his life.
Rycotewood school (see separate article) was founded by a philanthropist called Cecil Michaelis in 1938 to assist deprived children from rural and mining backgrounds and to develop them into skilled craftsman. Stan was there for 4 years and he loved it. The matron, Mrs Harley became his substitute mother, encouraging him and all the other boys to study hard and take all the exams available to them. He made some great friends, some of who he is still in touch with, they had a big 'Old Boys' reunion at the school in 2007? The furniture workshop established by the school is still in existence and it now part of Oxford and Cherwell Valley College (http://rycotewoodassociation.co.uk)
When war broke out in 1940 Stan was only 16 but he later joined the Fleet Air Arm in 1942.
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/young%20navy%20Stan.jpg "\\"Stan")
He signed on with the Royal Navy - Fleet Air Arm, in Oxford, and after training in Lee-on-Solent, Cheshire, Canada (advanced flying) and Scotland, he was stationed in Ceylon, at Trincomalee Harbour, on general flying duties atttached to 733 Squadron. He was de-mobbed back in Lee-on-Solent in 1946. Although Stan insists that he did nothing brave, he has war medals for 'being there', He describes being \"shit scared\" when he was shot down - twice- and had to bale out of his aircraft. He is a member of the 'caterpillar club' - for owing his life to a silkworm. For each occasion he was awarded a tiny gold silkworm broach, with ruby eyes.and his name engraved on the back (insert pics). He also had a special goldfish tie for owing his life to a life-raft.
After the war Stan went to Loughborough College, along with some of his Rycotewood contemporaries, to study woodwork, crafts and teaching
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Rycotewood%20old%20boys%20at%20Loughborough.jpg "\\"Rycotewood")
(He was awarded an honorary degree when Loughborough became a University in 2010.) It was at Loughborough that he met Muriel, where she was secretary to the Principal and they were married in 1949. His first teaching job was in Stockwell, London and while there he applied to the overseas service and was offered a job at the Duke of York Boys school in Nairobi, Kenya. He flew out in January 1950, followed 6 months later by Muriel and baby, Janet. (Son Michael and daughter Katherine were born in 1954 and 1957 respectively)
Kenya was another turning point in Stan's life, another great adventure in a country he came to love and where he had a wonderful life between 1950 and 1984, progressing from teaching 'European' boys in a public school environment to teaching African students to be teachers and ultimately becoming the Principle of Kericho Teachers College in 1962. He was 'the last white Principle' and was awarded the MBE for services to education in Kenya (1970s).
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Stan%20receiving%20MBE.jpg "\\"Stan")
After stepping down as Principle from Kericho College when his job was 'Africanised' in 1969 / 70 Stan went to work at Machakos Teachers' College until finally in 1984, aged 60, he retired and returned to live in England.
It was in Machakos that Muriel died (from a pulmonary embolism following an operation to remove a cyst from her brain) in 1976. Two years later a new teacher arrived at the college from London - Wendy Hann. Over the next six years their friendship grew as they shared life in Machalos centred on the Sports club and holidays at the coast. In 1984 Stan and Wendy were married in Machakos church with a reception at the Sports Club before returning to England to live in Loftus (North Yorkshire).
The garage (petrol sales and car repairs) struggled financially and was eventually closed in 1996. Stan and Wendy continued to live in Loftus, in the terrace house which they bought and extended in 1982/3 and from which they travelled extensively. Twice they returned for holidays in Kenya but they also enjoyed escaping the winter weather in North East England and spending time in France, Spain, Greece and wintering in Cyprus several years in a row (1996- 2004) Highlights of their travels included a month long house swop in San Fransisco where Jan and Kathy joined them for two weeks; a canal trip through France with Kathy and her boyfriend Robbie; and three trips to visit ex Kenya friends at their home in Iceland. Many friends have madde the trip to visit Stan and Wendy in Loftus and they have made many new local friends, their house is right opposite the Station Hotel ! ! When Stan first came home he had two brothers and a sister living in the North East and Stan was delighted to be able to see so much more of them. It was a great sadness when Ellen, Jack and then Don died one by one. Stan himself has overcome ill health over the years and now struggles with Alzheimers. He reached his 90th birthday on 16 February 2014, although he was unfortunately in hospital he was able to enjoy a family get together in the ward - children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and his neice and nephew. Later, on 24th March, Stan and Wendy celebrated their 30th wedding aniversary, with Stan being home from hospital (although still suffering from Alzheimers). Another chapter in a very varied life. Stokoe Elizabeth Miller was born on 9 January 1894 at 4 Thinford Street, Metal Bridge near Ferryhill, County Durham. She was the second child of John Miller, a newsagent, and Ellen Wallace. Both families had lived in Durham for several generations. John and Ellen had 6 children in total - Florence b 1893, Elizabeth, George b 1896, Ellen b 1898, Elsie b1904, John b 1906. John Miller died in 1932 aged 66 while Ellen lived till she was 88 (I remember meeting Great Granny Miller) In 1916, aged 22, Elizabeth - known as Bet by her family - married Michael Price Stokoe, a coal miner working in Tursdale Colliery. After the war the family moved to Tursdale. Elizabeth and Michael had 5 children: - Charles Robert b1920, John Wallace b1921, Stanley Reynolds b1924, Ellen Miller b1926 and William Donald b1932. Michael and Elizabeth lived in Tursdale all their married life. Sometime after her husband died Bet moved to Witton Gilbert and then to Wylam with her youngest son, Donald. It was at Wylam in 1981 that Bet died of cancer (bowel cancer ?), aged 87. Donald did not get married until after his mother had died. Bet worked hard all her life looking after her family. They lived in a small, 'two up two down' terraced house in Tursdale, a tiny village with just 2 streets, a small primary school, a colliery and pit heap. Mobile shops visited regularly as the closest shops were a bus ride away. The house had no bathroom and the toilet was outside in the yard next to the coal bunker. There was a large tin bath hanging in the scullery which had to be filled with hot water carried through from the kitchen range. The kitchen was the centre of the household and was always warm. The living room was kept 'just for best' although Don had to sleep in there when his brother Stanley brough his family over to stay from Kenya. Coal mining was not well paid so they didn't have had much money but Bet always sent a Christmas parcel to her grandchildren in Kenya. Granny also made wonderful high teas, mainly for visitors - again she was strict with us and we had to eat some bread and butter before we could tuck into cakes and scones and her 'piece de resistance', her phenomenal apple and blackberry pie. I did visit Granny in Witton Gilbert and Wylam but it was the time I spent with her at Tursdale that I remember the best. Michael Price Stokoe was born on 3 April 1894 in Tursdale, Cornforth, County Durham and was one of a long line of coal miners living and working in County Durham, and, further back in time, lead miners in Northumberland. He was the first child of Charles Robert Stokoe, also a coal miner, and Annie Price who was only 18 when she married. Charles Stokoe died just 2 years later aged 22. The 1901 census shows Michael (aged 6) living with his grandparents - Michael and Annie Price - along with his mother, Annie Stokoe and younger sister Hannah Maud who was born in 1896. Michael Stokoe, known as Micky, saw action and won medals in the First World War. He signed up on 10 September 1914 aged 20 (height 5'6'', brown hair, blue eyes, fair complexion and unmarried) and was discharged to civilian employment on 17 January 1919. 1914/15 Star, for fighting in France and Belgium and for the retreat from Mons in 1914; Victory and War medals (awarded at the end of the war); 2 cap badges (Nelson and Drake) for acts of bravery in the face of the enemy. (pic) Michael returned to civilian duties as miner in Tursdale colliery in January 1919 and worked there until he retired. He married Elizabeth Miller in 1916 and they had 5 children: - Charlie b 1919, Jack b 1921, Stan b 1924, Ellen b 1925 and Donald b 1932. He died on 27 September 1966 of lukemia (?), aged 72 in Tursdale. I only saw my Grandad when we came to England every two to three years, on leave from Kenya, so I didn't know him very well. I do remember him coming home from the pit looking black with coat dust and Granny would fill the big tin bath in the scullery with hot water from the fire and scrub him clean. We (me and my brother and sister) never got bathed in the tin tub, instead we went across to aunt Nell's house at Metal Bridge because they had a proper bathroom. Esther has done some extensive research on the Hunt and Bryant family trees going bck to the 1700s, however these are too big to upload at present. A section showing the 3 most recent generations is included with a couple of amendments. Wendy has done a great deal of research into the Stokoe family tree. This includes Elizabeth Miller, Michael Price Stokoe and the most recent Stokoe generations. Kathy loved riding - she started learning at Greensted School and was a member of the Pony club in Kericho. She also rode at Nakuru show Kathy was more interested in riding than swimming. She joined the Pony Club and became a star rider. Her she is riding at Kericho Club in 1966 (2.05 mins) Kathy in her starring role as a show jumper again, this time in 1970 at Nakuru show (not sure who else is in the film) 1.17 min Easter Monday 1952 (from DOYS Nairobi) Dear Mother, I feel very guilty about not writing to you for so long – I just don't know where the weeks have gone to! It seems just as difficult to find time to write now as when I was in the office – I've been meaning to write for ages. The end of term is usually pretty hectic, even the Matrons have a lot to do – all the bedding to collect and send to the laundry, supervise the storing away of mattresses, and so on (86 mattresses and the the relative number of sheets and blankets, for the two houses in my block). A couple of weeks before the end of term we had house plays – Stan was responsible for two, because he was producing the Delamere play (“The Dear Departed” - quite amusing) and helping one of his Prefects produce the Junior play, which was a silly thing all about buried treasure, and the whole House (35 of them) were in it. All the little ones were pirates, wearing their pyjama trousers and games jerseys and coloured hankies on their heads – they looked quite colourful on the stage, especially as they had all given themselves moustaches, beards, black eyes, scars, tattoo marks, and so on, with black ink. They had a fine time, as you can imagine. Some of them are so small, they are really quite children; they are all twelve or thirteen years old, but some of them really do look such little boys, especially in their pyjamas, In contrast, the Head of the House, who is sixteen only, is about six feet tall and proportionately well developed! He made an impressive Pirate Chief, with all the little ones as his crew. The Delamere play was quite well done, and everyone enjoyed it. Two of the boys made very good women, with borrowed clothes and a little stuffing ! I did the make up and a good time was had by all. On Palm Sunday, the School Choir (which includes some of the staff and some borrowed soloists) did Bach's St Luke Passion. Dominic Spencer is a keen musician, and he trained them. They worked very hard at it and it went off very well (though of course not quite like the Alleyn's choir! - the school isn't up to that standard yet.) Stan is in the choir, Mrs Spencer says he has a very nice voice, but he needs to learn to read music. He thoroughly enjoys the choir. I wish I could be in it too! - I may insist on being in it next year, even if I don't exactly help I think I could promise not to hinder, because they are hoping to have a go at the 'Messaih' and I know that so well... Stan has been going to rehearsals every Sunday night during this term, so that has been another night on my own. During term time we wives don't see much of our husbands, although they are working on the spot. -there is always something happening, games duties, house duties, plays, meetings and so on. This Wednesday, when all the boys had gone, we had a staff party down in the new boarding block. We had dinner first, then dancing in the new common room (which is one of the few rooms in the school that have parquet floors instead of red concrete). The Head is very keen on Scotch Reels, the Dashing White Sargeant, and all those, and he had everyone doing them, the men stripping off their dinner jackets and dancing in their shirt sleeves, some with braces and some with trousers tied up with scarves or ties ! It wasn't exactly dignified, and extremely warm, but quite fun. I should think the boys would have had a laugh if they could have seen some of them galloping about and puffing and blowing. Now that our Staff is up to about 30 strong (including Matrons) some of them are 'not as young as they were'. The Head himself is a very good dancer, though he looks a lot older than his forty five odd years. Last week was quite an exciting week (for us), as we also had a party of our own on Saturday, for my birthday. We thought it was about time we did, as we haven't had once since we've been here. We made quite a lot of preparations, and I cooked sausage rolls and cheese straws,and made dozens of “toasties”. About 20 people came, and it all went off very nicely. You will be glad to hear that it was a very sober party, and not nearly as much liquid refreshment was consumed as we had catered for. I think that usually happens at that sort of party – people are too busy chatting (and in this case eating) to drink very much. So it didn't cost as much as we'd expected. Janet was a little angel for once, and slept all evening without stirring, in spite of considerable noise. I had my hair cut and curled, and made myself a dress of grey coat-taffeta, which was quite a success, though it only cost about 50/-. (it would have cost at least £15 if I'd bought it) Everyone seems to approve of my hair short – I'm going to have it permed at the end of the month. The most exciting piece of recent news is that the Art Master is unexpectedly leaving this term, and as a Relief could not be found, I am going to teach Art for two terms! I am very thrilled about this, its what I've always hoped might happen, of course, but never really expected it. Its not absolutely definite yet, but I think it must be as we had the dinner party as farewell to Mr Roberts, and the school presented him with a silver tankard, so it would be a bit silly if he didn't go now. I don't know yet what salary they are going to pay me, as I have no actual teaching qualification, but it should be more than I get as a Matron, I hope. Anyway, even if it isn't, I am still very pleased and it will be a jolly interesting experience, and I have much more confidence about teaching now than I would have had ten years ago. I'm quite sure I can manage as well as 'Taffy', who is really a woodwork instructor and has had no art training at all. Unfortunately, the school has no art room as yet, pnly a temporary classroom with not much space and a rickety floor, but it will at least be fun. I hope I shan't have any trouble with discipline – I think I will be all right as long as I can keep them interested, and that shouldn't be hard, there are so many aspects to art that Taffy hasn't touched on and that they could have a go at. About twenty boys are taking School Certificate in December in Art, the others can do what they like, there is no syllabus to be followed. And School Certificate Art is very simple ….This will help me make an effort to produce more of my own work, too. Stan has bought me a very nice big easel and some more brushes and paints, and I am definitely going to try and do some oil painting this holiday. I want to do some portraits. I've done one or two in pastel, one of Pam was quite successful, but the others not so, - I need more practice, but I'm pleased to find that I’m not really any worse than I was when I left the Art School. Kate Spencer wants me to do her three little girls in pastel, I do hope I can make a good job of it. Children are difficult, of course, it's the sitting that's the trouble. The older one may be able to sit a bit, but I'm not sure about the others. I shall have to make some preliminary sketches from photographs, I expect. I'll try and do one of Janet, too. I've had her Polyfoto taken, and will sent you some of the little ones with this letter – they are quite good, and I am getting a big one for you later, - they are being done now, as a matter of fact, but I don't know whether I can send them Air Mail or not. I must go now and see about Janet's dinner, Stan has had her out all morning, and I expect he's about had enough of it by now – she is a \"little angel\" and \"so sweet\" in small doses to other people, but she is a handful in large doses, and can be an absolute little devil! I'm quite sure she's more mischievous than any boy, and always, every minute, getting into some trouble or other, - running off with the scissors, spilling ink on the carpet, climbing upon chairs and getting things out of drawers, eating things, scribbling on the wall, and all the rest … if smacked, she smacks back! If frustrated, she throws herself on the floor and yells, or scratches... but when she is good, she's adorable, talks any amount in English and Swahili, looks at books and is very affectionate. Of course, she is worse with me than anyone, won't let me out of her sight for two seconds, even to go to the lavatory, and climbs all over me if I try to read or sew, demanding attention, wanting to be in on it too. I know this is only natural at this age, but it's very exhausting, especially as she hardly ever goes to sleep in the afternoons now, and is at it all day. Fatuma has gone off today on two and a half week's leave, so it will be good practice for my patience! Stan wants to go off for four days with Harry and Peter Collister on a golfing and fishing trip, - I'm not awfully keen on the idea of being alone with Janet, especially at night, but it seems a bit mean if I object to him going. I wish I could go too, but Janet would be a menace in a hotel. Of course, Pam Hesketh is at work in any case, and has her own friends in town, and is quite please for Harry to go, I think she is having a girlfriend to stay with her, and Ann Collister is one of those tough types who doesn't mind being alone, in fact she says it is a nice change, and means she can read in bed! … Her two boys are four and five, so they are able to be sent out on their own to play quite a bit now. I suppose I must be tough too, but I must say I am happier with Stan around. I hate sleeping alone in the house. I meant to finish this on the typewriter, but went to sleep after lunch (Janet actually went to sleep today) and then we went out for a walk. The school is very quiet, quite a few people are away.We have a swimming bath now! The filtration plant has not arrived yet, but it has been filled with water for the holidays and not many people will be in it. I haven't been in yet but Stan went in yesterday, and took Janet for a splash – he's trying to teach her to swim. I should think she'll be able to swim by the time we come on leave now that we've got the bath here. The bath, by the way,is not supplied officially, it was paid for by a loan, subscribed half by the government and half by parents and friends – a lot of Kenya people have money. The loan will gradually be repaid over a period of years – about 30, I think - out of money paid by the boys in small fees for use of the pool – 10/- a term or something like that. Its cost about £6,000, I believe. Now they are collecting money to build a squash court. The weather has been very tiring, we haven't had very much rain as yet. We had two or three extremely hot, exhausting weeks in March – average temperature nearly 90' in Nairobi and hot dry winds. The grass was like hay and the trees were wilting. Then it broke and we had a heavy storm one night, about a fortnight ago, and quite a lot of rain, then another heavy shower or two some days later, then it seemed to pass away again. Everything freshened up and the grass is now quite green, but people are worried that the rains are going to fail this year (last year we had too much of course).I hope we get some as I want to do some gardening – this is a huge garden and at present there is not very much in it. I have dug up two large beds and they're waiting to be re-planted – I have some seeds in boxes, but I was rather late in sowing them this year. As to flowers (mentioned in your last letter) the only things that really won't grow here are the “spring” flowers – daffodils, tulips etc and some of them will grow up in the hills in the cooler wetter areas. Chrysanthemums will grow, I have a few - but they bloom very near the ground and won't grow long stalks. I don't know why.. I must say it will be nice to see the apple blossom and spring flowers again. Thre is nothing quite as 'dewy looking' here – the flowers tend to be bright red or yellow or orange and rather showy. Roses will grow well if cared for, but they need manure and a good deal of attention and they only bloom for short seasons, whereas most of the annuals go on and on blooming. Flowers do get a bit scarce at the end of the dry season. I had a few rather faded zinnias and one or two odds and ends but nothing worth picking for weeks. We're now hoping for more rain to bring new blooms along. I seem to have 3 letters of yours not answered, which is rather awful, but I've been awfully pleased to receive them. I do look forward to your letters very much... I can quite believe Irene is thin, but I can't imagine Geoffrey being fat – are you sure you're not exaggerating? Irene told me about the basement flat but it didn't sound too bad – in fact, she sounded quite thrilled about it. Are they going to take it? I don't really know what you mean about Gordon 'selling his birthright' – perhaps Irene will tell me about it. It souns rather rash to me, though I don't know.... I wonder if the “Macs” will end up here – I think they would like it. I suppose he has a degree in which case he would be an Education Officer and probably get quite a good salary. There seems to be a shortage of teachers, we have had an awful job getting staff here – we have two women teaching already, Mrs Spencer (who was a teacher before she married) and Mrs Maclennan, who was a Matron, but who has taught French for years as well – she is French, of course. Now there's me – we really are very short-staffed waiting for various specialists. Scientists and mathematicians seem to be particularly scarce. So many people seem to be interested in jobs here, then change their minds and don't want to leave England after all, or go to another Colony. I think quite often the wives don't want to come out here. We have quite a few temporary or only partially qualified people this year, two men had to be transferred here from Primary schools to fill gaps. The Colonial Office seems to do a lot of blundering and putting people off by long delays, etc, making the Education Department and Headmasters here furious. Stan has read “Last chance in Africa”, he borrowed it from somebody, and I glanced through it but didn't read it properly. I must get hold of it and read it again. I'm glad you found it so interesting.. Also I'm glad you saw “No Vultures Fly”. We missed it here, it only came for a week,and we're hoping it may come back again. We heard all about it, of course. They made quite a “do” of the premiere here. We've only been to the pictures once in months and months. That was to see Bette Davis in “All about Eve”, which was good, but not outstanding. Now about Janet – I've already told you what a little pickle she is. Physically she's fine, and so far has not had any set backs. She's grown inches in the last year, and all her clothes have become too small. I have been very busy making her clothes: 2 pairs of viyella pyjamas (one piece with flaps) as her baby nighties are at last finished, a clydella duster-check skirt with blouse and two pairs of knickers. I am going to make another skirt and dress for 'best' (pale yellow clydella which was old stock and I got cheap – 7/90 a yard, wheras the new lot was 13/- - what a difference!) I'm also knitting her a jersey (she is wearing the cardigans a lot now and finding them very useful) She is nearly 3 ft tall now (about 35 ½ “) and weights 30lbs. She is fairly solid in the body still, but her legs have lengthened a lot and got a bit slimmer. She is very cuddlesome and attractive to look at. She's not much trouble now over her pot or sleeping at night, though she wets her beds fairly frequently still. She doesn't wear nappies and has improved since she's had her new pyjamas. She refuses to be woken and “potted”, she cries to get back to bed and is so upset at being woken that I haven't the heart to do it. If I do, ten to one she won't use the pot,and only gets thoroughly wakened up and cross. She is occasionally naughty over her food and spits it out, but generally eats fairly well. She enjoys breakfast and dinner, likes a boiled egg best of all – I give her an egg most days now, either for breakfast or late tea – that all right isn't it? She still won't eat tea at 4.30 or even 5 and prefers her supper at bedtime, after her bath, though this is supposed to be wrong according to all the books. I find difficulty in knowing what to give her for supper or tea. She's tired of 'farex' now and isn't awfully good with cornflakes or porridge either, nor will she eat much bread and butter or sweet things – except chocolate which she loves! She likes meat now, and fish, and relishes chicken and is quite good with vegetables as a rule. She also loves tomato, but she's not very good with puddings. As I said before, she talks fluently, can express almost anything she wants to say – in fact is very good at expressing her wants in a forcible manner. She has just started the saying “No” phase, too, and can be very obstinate. She can be quite infuriating at times – I suppose most children are. I shall be glad when she gets to the next stage, of playing with things properly, at the moment she wants to be doing something active all the time and its difficult to know what to give her to keep her quiet. I resorted to giving her scissors and a big sheet of paper the other day (after much pleading) – they kept her quiet half an hour – you should have seen her intent face, trying to cut! I suppose its rather a risky occupation at two, though. She kept opening her mouth every time she tried to open the scissors! Of course she wants every bottle and jar and tube of toothpaste opened and all my make up things to play with, and all the drawers and cupboards turned out, - demanding “Mummy, open it” or “Mummy, in there?” or “'oos that?” I've told her about 'Granny Katherine' and Granny Stokoe' and all the others and she repeats the names, but I don't think she has much idea of what I'm talking about. Its difficult to explain as no-one here has a Granny. Do make Janet a frock if you'd like to, she can do with plenty of cotton ones as she's grown out of the first ones I made her. I'll measure her tomorrow and give you the measurements at the bottom of this page. I really must stop and go to bed now, its 11o'clock and Stan has fallen asleep on the sofa! I'll try and answer your questionnaire tomorrow, but if I haven't time I'll post this and write again later in the week, when I'm on my own. I know you must be getting anxious and eagerly awaiting a letter. I really must try and write more regularly, I'm always wanting to write! Much love, and thanks for your birthday wishes, I had a nice birthday and several presents this year but its awful to think of the age I've reached – 34! I can't really believe it – I'll soon be middle aged. Lots of love Muriel I am four and a half, we are living in a new house now, its in a place called Kisii, and I have a new best friend called Pat Sommerville. I am a bit sad though because I can't find my favourite doll, Long Leggedy Beada, or my Cubby Lion toy who sleeps in my bed with me. Mummy says they might be in the trunk that got lost when we moved, she says Daddy is trying to find out what happened to it. Then today, when I was playing in the paddling pool in the garden with Pat and my baby brother Michael, a rickety old wooden cart came into our garden, it was being pulled by two cows with great big horns. Hassani came out and talked to the man sitting on it. There was a big black trunk on the back of the cart and they carried it up to our verandah. Then Mummy came out and opened the trunk and Long Leggedy Beada was inside, so was Cubby Lion. I am very happy now. Mummy says the trunk must have fallen into the river on its way here because my Strewel Peter book is all wet and wrinkly; she says she can mend it though, and that it will be good as new for Daddy to read it to me at bedtime. My favourite story is the one about a little fat boy who wouldn't eat his soup and got so thin that he died, and I like the one about Philip who can't sit still and pulls the table cloth off the table and everything falls on the floor. I don't know what's wrong with my Daddy but we had to come to England so that he can go to a special hospital for an operation on his back. Me and Mummy have come to see him but I don't like this hospital, its very hot and there is a horrid smell. I have been sick in the lift and Mummy had to find a nurse to clean it up. I wanted to cry but I didn't. I hope Daddy gets better soon. Me and Mummy are staying with Auntie Elsie. I like it at her house, she has a special china tea set which she keeps just for me to make tea for my dolls. Its white with a red circle around the edge of all the plates and cups; I am very careful not to break it. I loved the film 'Bambi', but it was very sad when Bambi's mummy died. I went to see it at the golf club in Nyeri with my friends Rosie and Steph. When I got home Daddy told me that I had a new baby sister. She is going to be called Katherine Ann. Why did we leave Brighton and move back to Cornwall? This story is in answer to a question from Nick, and in order to understand why we left Brighton you need to understand why we went there in the first place, when we had already been living in Cornwall. Ever since Nick was born and I had to give up my place at Uni, Dad wanted me to go back. I guess it is what every parent wants for their children – a good education to lead to a good career. (In fact its worth noting that much of what drives your parents only becomes clear when you become a parent yourself!) Once Nick was about 2 years old Dad started encouraging me to sign up for some kind of further education. First I applied to Cornwall College to do teacher training but I didn't progress with it because I didn't know what I would do with Nick. Mum was a brilliant support but she couldn't have coped with looking after a toddler all day while I was at college, and they would be long days including the bus journey from St Tudy to Camborne. At that time (1972) there was only one local authority day nursery in Cornwall - unlikely he'd get a place and I didn't really want to put him in a nursery anyway. Next I applied to Marjons in Plymouth, also to do teacher training. I was accepted and actually went to see a private nursery school close by, who would have been happy to take Nick. Again I didn't go ahead with it; the logistics seemed to me insurmountable – another long bus/car journey and I just couldn't contemplate leaving Nick. Mum didn't really want me to go either, she liked having me around, so she wasn't quite so encouraging as Dad was; and he was miles away in Kenya so didn't really know what was involved or how I felt. I was really quite happy with my life in St Tudy, with Mum, my brother and sister and Auntie and Uncle. Of course I was aware that I would have to earn myself a living at some stage but there didn't seem to be any urgency as I had a roof over my head, funded by Dad, and I was getting 'National Assistance' to help support Nick. Things changed when my cousins Paula and Martin finished university in Brighton. My Uncle Gordon had bought them a house to live in while they were students and now he wanted to sell it. A deal was done so that Dad bought the property – 36 Western Street, Brighton, and I applied to the University of Sussex to study Social Psychology. Mum came with me to help look after Nick which meant of course that Kathy had to come too. So we all moved in the summer of 1975 and Nick and I lived there for 5 years. I applied to do Social Psychology because I didn't feel confident to study modern languages which is what I had been accepted to do at Keele (the university I applied to on leaving school); nearly 5 years had passed since then and I hadn't read or spoken any French or German in that time. Social Psychology sounded interesting and didn't require any pre-qualifications. I was accepted and started in September 1975. Nick had just started school in St Tudy the previous year but transferred to Middle Street First school in Brighton. It was a shame that Kathy had to move schools as well - right in the middle of her A levels, and I'm sure it had an adverse impact on the grades she achieved. She didn't really settle in Brighton and went back to Cornwall after a year or so, moving in with her boyfriend's family, the Reskelly's who lived at Rooke Farm near Wadebride. So that was me sorted and Dad's wish come true. Brighton was a great place to live, but I probably didn't fully appreciate this at the time. It was lovely living by the sea; our house was on the border between Brighton and Hove, near the West Pier, which was already falling down. Hove was very genteel and had nice gardens along the seafront, while walking towards Brighton you noticed that the numbers of rock candy shops, amusements and deck chairs increased. Then there was the main Brighton Pier, the Aquarium and further on the Marina, which was built while we were there, and beyond that the nudist beach (we never quite made it that far!). Brighton (and Hove) beach is pebbles, no sand, and quite painful to walk on - especially if your feet are cold after being in the sea. I think I only went in the sea once - in 1976 when we had that red hot summer that everyone remembers. They had great markets in Brighton, including Preston Street which sold fantastic cheeses and is where the Body Shop started life. Nick and I walked along the sea front almost everyday en route to school. His school was near the 'Lanes' and his friend Badrul lived in an Indian restaurant right there. I would drop him off then walk up to the station to get the train to University. To begin with I was always able to finish in time to meet him from school. When he was a bit older, I used to let him walk to school on his own - after following him for a few days to make sure he knew the way. (I wonder if I'd do the same now!). I wasn't so happy about letting him go home on his own so when I started having later classes I advertised in school for one of the other Mum's to look after him until I could pick him up. Nick didn't like this arrangement at all: although the lady was very kind her son wasn't one of his friends. Fortunately we later found another family to pick him up from school. This was his friend Orlando, Orly for short, whose family lived near the station in a lovely but chaotic and rambling old house. Orly's Dad was called 'Crow' and rode a motorbike, his Mum, Julie, was like an 'earth mother'. And they had two other children, Rosie 3, and a baby called Sims. Nick enjoyed being there. Later he made friends with another boy his own age called Adam; they met at Judo classes as Adam went to a private school, but they became really close friends and spent many happy times together. Adam's Mum and Dad lived just a few streets a way from ours so we became friends as well. 36 Western Street was just off the seafront and in a very windy spot. It was also rather run down: 3 storeys high with a damp basement and a kind of cellar area under the street. Our neighbour on one side was a hairdresser and on the other an almost derelict, and mostly empty property, I think there were even squatters there for a short while. We only lived in the ground and first floor with a kitchen and spare room in the basement, plus a small back yard with a built up flower bed. As the house had been a student house there were 2 kitchens and bathrooms so we rented out the top floor rooms to a young couple with a baby - Maggie and Paul Roberts. Later we rented out another two rooms to a gay couple called Ian and Keith who became known as 'The Two Ronnies' (thanks to Colin) and we became good friends with them. It all helped to pay the bills and it was good to know there was someone else in the house if Nick was there on his own. Colin is another person who was dragged into the Cornwall/Brighton move. I met him when he was doing some scaffolding at Hengar Manor, where we lived in Cornwall in 1971, and we started going out together, he even wanted to marry me! When I moved to Brighton he was devastated and followed me up there getting a job as a bingo caller with Ladbrokes, later opting to train as a psychiatric nurse at St Francis Hospital, Haywards Heath. After Mum died he moved into 36 Western Street with me and Nick and we did eventually get married. Mum died in 1976 while we were living in Brighton; we were actually on holiday in Kenya that summer, when she had what seemed like a stoke. Nick, Kathy and I came home without her while she went to hospital in Nairobi for an operation. In October Dad phoned to say that she had died as a result of an embolism. It was a bizarre but tragic event, I didn't even return to Kenya for her funeral, something I will always regret. University was ok but I can't claim that they were the best 3 years of my life – as my teachers at school told me it would be – obviously my circumstances were somewhat different than most 18 year olds. Social psychology was an interesting subject but I always struggled to get the pre reading done, didn't contribute much to seminar discussions and found writing essays hard work. In the end I came out with a 2:2 degree and the realisation this was not enough of a qualification to get me a job. Job hunting in 1978 was not easy, my CV was full of gaps and I had no work experience to enhance my rather feeble degree, so I signed up for a one year Post Graduate Certificate in Education. Even this didn't help me get employment and I hated teaching practice, the children reduced me to tears of frustration and failure. By 1980 Nick had moved up to Middle School, not such a happy place as first school because football became part of the school curriculum and he hated it. Colin had finished his training and he wanted to return to Cornwall. Since all my teaching job applications had failed I was working as a clerk in the Legal and General Assurance Society. The Brighton house was a drain on Dad's resources (even when we left it took ages to sell). So …... in April 1980 Colin and I got married and we moved back to his home village of Lanivet, near Bodmin in Cornwall. We lived with his parents for a few months until we were lucky enough to be offered a council house. I did a couple of terms of supply teaching and then got a job in the Unemployment Benefit Office in Bodmin; Colin started work as a psychiatric nurse at St Lawrence's Hospital and Nick was enrolled at Lanivet Primary School. The next phase of our Cornwall life had begun: and I didn't realise until much later that Nick was unhappy with the move – and the marriage - and would have preferred to stay in Brighton. But he was only 10 at the time so, rightly or wrongly, his opinion was not factored into the decision making process and he had to go along with it. Muriel Stokoe, mother of Janet, Michael and Katherine; first wife of Stanley, married in July 1949. Born in Dulwich but lived and died in Kenya from 1950 to 1976. Muriel was born on 12 April 1919 in Dulwich, South London; she was the middle child of 3 with an older brother Geoffrey and a younger sister Irene. Her father, Sydney, was an analytical chemist and her mother, Katherine (known as Minnie), was a teacher. Muriel and Irene both went to James Alleyn's Girls (secondary) School in Dulwich where they excelled academically. Muriel had a talent for art and subsequently went to Goldsmiths Art College, London, in about 1938. After War broke out in 1940 her family moved to Loughborough where she got a job as secretary to the Principal of Loughborough College. It was there that she met Stan Stokoe and they were married in July 1949. Their first child, Janet, was born in Feb 1950 and six months later Muriel sailed to Kenya to join Stan at the Duke of York School in Nairobi., Kenya. They lived there for 20 years and her other children Michael (1954) and Katherine (1957) were born during this period. NB - see Muriel's \"letters to Mother\" and \"Kenya, the early years\" for an insight to her life in from 1950 to 1960, also \"Bedtime story for Janet\" for her childhood. Muriel's life started to go wrong in the early 1960s when she had a nervous breakdown and was admitted to Winterton Psychiatric hospital in Sedgefield, County Durham. She was very unhappy: having to remain there while the rest of the family went back to Kenya. She was given ECT treatment which was both frightening and ineffective and between hospital stays she lived with her in-laws in Tursdale who were not very sympathetic to her condition and often told her to 'pull herself together', comparing her illness to Stan's spine operation which he recovered from in 1952. She was in and out of hospital for about 2 years but never fully recovered, not helped by her subsequent addiction to the barbiturate drugs which were prescribed for her during this period. It is not clear what caused her breakdown and subsequent affliction with anxiety and depression; there were probably multiple causes one of which might have been the arrival in Kenya of her sister Irene, with her 2 small children, and the impact this had on her marriage. Irene and her husband Gordon (and his mother) - The Smithes - arrived after a trip from South Africa and stayed for nearly 2 years (although Gordon and his mother returned to the UK after a few weeks) When Muriel returned to Kenya in 1963 the the family had moved to Kericho and all her children were away at boarding school. She also became something of a 'golf widow' as Stan spent most of his evenings at the Club and she rarely went with him as she was afraid to drink because of the barbiturates she was still taking. She did get involved in the amateur dramatic activity in Kericho and helped with set painting, costumes and make up but she really lived for the school holidays. When the decision was made to move the children to schools in the UK in 1969 Muriel decided to stay in England with them and Stan set up a home for the whole family at Hengar Manor in Cornwall, where the Smithes were now living. Muriel and the family did have regular holidays in Kenya - Kericho and the Coast until she died. It was in 1976 while on holiday in Kenya (in Machakos) with Janet, Kathy and Nick, that Muriel fell ill with what seemed like a stroke, she lost movement and co-ordination down one side, and her short term memory was affected. She was diagnosed with a cyst on the brain by an African doctor in Nairobi - Dr Washow, so she remained in Machakos to wait for an operation while the rest of the family returned to the UK. The operation was performed in Nairobi in October 1976 but Muriel never came out of hospital; although the cyst was successfully removed, a few days later she developed a blood clot and died of a pulmonary embolism. She was cremated in Nairobi with only Stan and close family friend, Molly Cawley in attendance. It was too costly to bring all the children back to Nairobi for the funeral. The saddest postscript to Muriel's death is the possibility that her mental illness might have some connection with the cyst growing on her brain (it was apparently quite large when removed), none of her doctors ever looked for a physical cause to her illness, her only treatment was strong medication - barbiturates, anti depressants (including valium, temazepam), and she was also treated for high blood. pressure. She was only 57 when she died. These short films have been edited down to make for easier viewing and they need to be looked at in the context of the Kagumo story, I have a vague mental map of the College layout which I have tried to draw (see pic), showing where my friends’ families lived, its probably wildly out!! Its also quite difficult to describe but here goes: the northernmost area of the college was the main sports field and next to that was the farm. Below that was a row of about 6-8 houses; the Curtises – Arnold and Daphne plus daughters Steph and Jill, and the Cawleys – John and Molly with daughter Jane, lived here – both families moved away early on, to Limuru and Nairobi respectively, but we all kept in touch. I think the Velzians lived here as well. They had a proper full sized trampoline in their garden, which we all loved bouncing on! Dad, John, was the PE teacher and later became the National Coach to Kenya's athletes, starting with Kipchoge Kieno - the first of Kenya's phenomenal medal winning long distance runners. His wife Jo worked as a secretary in the Principal’s office. I remember her for her 'killer heels' and for teaching me to do the ‘Twist’!! They had a son Guy and a much younger daughter Kim. Turning south there were 2 large houses on each side of the road, the Principal on one side and the Rector on the other. I remember Harry Laughton being the Principal, he and his wife had no children so we were not well acquainted. The Rector was Douglas Melhuish, there were 4 children in that family but I really only knew Rosie and Wendy. Douglas was also the vicar at a church in Nyeri where we went to Sunday school. He christened us - all 3 of us together when Kathy was about 2 years old and I was about 9. Continuing south from the Melhuishes there was another sports field opposite which was another row of houses and families (I am not sure of the right order) : - the Penns – Ken and Shona plus their children Caroline, Sarah and James; the Clarks – Pat and Jane with children Adam and Amanda; the Martins – Ken and Margaret with children Hilary and Dominic: Margaret was famous for her curries, eaten out in the garden and I especially loved all the 'bits and pieces' such as chopped up banana, oranges, onion, tomatoes, grated coconut etc which we sprinkled over the curry; the Shanks – Philip and Eileen with children Ben and Lulu (Lyndall); the Jacksons - ? and Nora with their children Moira and Paul. A bit further down the road, in a house on its own, lived Peter King. I was afraid to go to his house as his dog bit me once (not seriously). Our house was also on its own, on the other side of the road from Peter. To the east and behind the staff houses was a wooded area leading to the classrooms and offices, the squash court was here as well. There were lots of younger children in the Kagumo community, similar ages to my brother and sister, so they also had lots of friends, not all of which were long lasting. I made lasting friendships at Kagumo, friends I am still in contact with – in particular Rosie Melhuish and Steph Curtis. (I even reconnected with Moira Jackson through Facebook at we met up near 60 years on and had a great Kagumo When-we). When the Cutises moved to Limuru I often went to stay; Steph, Jill and I always had fun. I remember getting wheezy after pillow fights, swimming in the dam, going on long walks with their dogs – 3 Rhodesian Ridgebacks, collecting mushrooms on the golf course early in the morning: the tastiest and juiciest mushrooms ever. We also had midnight feasts and once we tried to melt a 'Sugar Daddy' (a toffee lollipop) over a candle. There were also exchange visits to my house but somehow not so memorable. Later Steph went to Limuru Girls School but Rosie Melhuish and I both went to Kenya High which is how we remained friends; we might have been in the same class but were in different boarding houses and she was athletic while I definitely wasn’t. (Kenya High School has its own story). As with any community families come and go and Kagumo was no different. Around 1961 our cousins, the Smithes, came over from Englad to live with us – Paula was about 8 and Martin was about 6; their Mum, Irene, was my Mum's sister. I remember them arriving and putting up a tent in our front garden, with their Dad Gordon and their Granny as well – they had had a marathon journey across Europe and from South Africa to Kenya. Gorson and his mother went back to Englad, visiting us at the coast a few years on but Irene, Paula and Martin stayed and shared our life in Kagumo for a couple of years; Irene even got a job teaching in a local school. At about the same, a Canadian teacher called Bob Moffat, joined the Kagumo College staff bringing his family with him. The Moffats had 3 children - Janet, Robbie and Cathy who were almost exactly the same ages as me, Mike and Kathy respectively and we all became best friends and and spent many holidays and adventures together. Janet and I both went to Nyeri primary and although they returned to Canada after about 4 years I have kept in touch with Janet and visited her in Canada in 2000. Another Canadian family, the Gillespie's, arrived in Kagumo around 1961/2, just before we left. I was very friendly with Clare and Brenda as they were both pupils at Kenya High School with me. (I lost contact with them when we moved - but recently re-connected through Facebook and visited with Clare in Portugal in 2019). Although life was full at Kagumo there was a whole other array of things to do outside of in - both in and around Nyeri. Nyeri Club was also an important centre of our social life: some of our Dads, and Mums too, regularly played golf there so we children would get taken along to just run around or play on the swings. Ayahs would come along to keep an eye on the little ones. We were plied with crisps and bottles of coca cola while the grown ups drank beer in the club house. There was always something going on – film shows, I remember watching Bambi on the day my sister was born; parties at Christmas, displays of marching bands such as the KAR (Kenyan African Rifles), Scottish Country dancing as well as Kenyan tribal dancers. Picnics were another regular activity and we often went in a group with other families. One favourite spot was the Thego river, the water was freezing cold as its source was high up on Mount Kenya but the hot sun soon warmed us up and we sunbathed on the rocks. I loved to collect the beautiful smooth coloured stones from the shallow water but sadly they dried out in the sunshine to a uniform brown colour. Another favourite was Cave Waterfall up in the Aberdare Mountains, after an early start and a long steep drive up through thick forest, sometimes on muddy roads, we tucked into a picnic breakfast cooked on a calor gas stove. Afterwards we climbed carefully down to the foot of the waterfall, behind which we stood in the dark clammy cave watching the wall of water thundering down in front of us.We also went on picnics to the Siremon track in the foothills of Mount Kenya, to animal sanctuaries such as Mrs Kenealey's farm where we rode on a giant tortoise and we often swam in the pool at the Outspan Hotel in Nyeri. Once, after a very bad rainy season the Sagana River near Nyeri was flooded and Dad took us out in the car to watch the surging torrents of brown water swirling under, and over, fragile wooden bridges. One of the bridges got washed away just after we had driven over it. We also travelled further afield: visits to friends in Nairobi, safaris to game parks and regularly to the Kenya coast but these stories have got separate sections of their own In 1962 the family went home to the UK on leave and when we came back Dad had got a new posting to Kericho, a promotion to principal at the teacher training college there. As well as moving I started secondary school - as a boarder to Kenya High School in Nairobi, and my brother and sister started at Greensteds in Nakuru. I never went back to Nyeri again. . CAve waterfall cine Outspan video? 18 cines add more to middle bit (6 in each) Along with most of my Kagumo friends, me and my little brother went to Nyeri Primary School. It was about 3 miles from Kagumo and we often got taken there in the college truck or minibus. going off to Nyeri Primary school in the college lorry The uniform was green gingham dresses for the girls and green shirts with khaki shorts for the boys; there were 3 'houses' – Leopard (blue), Lion (yellow), and Cheetah (red). In my last year there (1961) I became a boarder, at my own request - because I wanted to spend more time with friends, and would be one of the 'in crowd' if I was a boarder. Unfortunately it meant my brother, Mike, had to be a boarder too and he hated it, so much so that he ran away once. As a boarder I made friends with Andi (Heather Anderson); we became and remained best friends at Nyeri and then at Kenya High. Her parents had a farm miles away in an isolated area of Kenya. I enjoyed school on the whole - I was academically average but terrified of mental arithmetic. I was also useless at games / sports, the obstacle race was my only attempt at being athletic. Nyeri Primary School sports day; Bob Moffat running in the 'Fathers' race, Janet Moffat in yellow T shirt running in the hurdles, Wendy Melhuish in blue T shirt in skipping race, Rosie Melhuish and Andi Anderson, also blue, running in 3 legged race, me and Andi also doing the Obstacle race. (1.18 min) Outside of Kagumo College, Nyeri Club was the centre of our social life; some of our Dads - and Mums too, regularly played golf there and we children would go along to just run around or play on the swings. Ayahs would come along to keep an eye on the little ones and we were plied with crisps and bottles of coca cola while the grown ups drank beer in the club house. Sometimes they showed child friendly films at the club and they held childrens parties at Christmas, we also watched marching bands such as the KAR (Kenyan African Rifles), Scottish Country dancing and Kenyan tribal dancers. At Kagumo there were so many places for me, my brother and sister and friends to play; even when a tractor cut the grass in the big playing field near to our house we would come along afterwards and scrape the grass into piles to make 'nests'. When it rained we would see how far into the drainage ditches we could walk without brown water spilling over the top of our wellies. My brother, Mike, was always getting into trouble for falling over and getting all his clothes wet. Up at the farm we could 'help' milk the cows and watch the pigs rolling round in their smelly straw. There was a huge shed piled high with straw bales and we would climb right up to the top and hide. If there were no grown ups playing squash we could run around and play ball inside the squash court; it had no roof and the brave ones could climb onto the top of the wall, from the wooden viewing platform, then walk all the way round the court. Quite dangerous but exciting! We played in each others gardens, sometimes even sneaking into the gardens of those who had no children and helping ourselves to fruit and veg. I clearly remember trying to eat a red chilli – in agony I ran home and rubbed my lips with ice cubes without realising I was spreading the the 'fire' across my face rather than relieving it. One of the most fun things to do with friends was dressing up: we had a special box where Mum put old clothes, shoes and hats for me and my friends to wear. Me, Janet Moffat and Moira Jackson dressing up and dancing in the garden We would also make hats out of flowers and regularly walked around the college in our costumes. Jan dressing up as Madam Zena at Mike's birthday party ( age 6 or 7), our cousins Paula and Martin are there as well as the Jacksons; playing 'pin the tail on the donkey' Picnics were another regular activity and we always went in a group with other families. One favourite spot was the Thego river, the water was freezing cold as its source was high up on Mount Kenya but the hot sun soon warmed us up. I loved to collect the beautiful smooth coloured stones from the shallow water but sadly they dried out in the sunshine to a uniform brown colour. Another favourite was Cave Waterfall up in the Aberdare Mountains, after an early start and a long steep drive up through thick forest, sometimes on muddy roads, we tucked into a picnic breakfast cooked on a calor gas stove. View of Mount Kenya and picnic at Cave Waterfall on the Aberdares; as well as the Stokoes it included the Velzians, Cawleys, and Somervilles, Afterwards we climbed carefully down to the foot of the waterfall, behind which we stood in the dark clammy cave watching the wall of water thundering down in front of us. We also went on picnics in the foothills of Mount Kenya and to animal sanctuaries such as Mrs Kenealey's and as swimming in rivers we often swam in the pool at the Outspan Hotel in Nyeri. Includes Kathy Stokoe, Cathy Moffat, Guy Velzian, Margaret Moffat, Stan Stokoe, Jo Velzian, ?, Muriel Stokoe, Jan Stokoe, Jane Wainwright Once, after a very bad rainy season the Sagana River near Nyeri was flooded and Dad took us out in the car to watch the surging torrents of brown water swirling under, and over, fragile wooden bridges. One of the bridges got washed away just after we had driven over it. A 'When-we' is a friendly chat sharing recollections of a long-past event with others. NB have a look at this definition on wikipedia as well - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whenwe This particular When-We is a collection of stories about the Stokoe/Hunt family's life in Kenya between 1950 and 1980. It also includes a potted history of some individual family members and stories relating to their British connections. The stories are written by and based on the recollections of Janet Stokoe, using the huge legacy of photos, slides and cine films created by Muriel Stokoe and uploaded to this website designed by Nick Stokoe. It was originally created in 2013 but was reviewed and updated in July 2019. Do you ever feel ignorant about your own family? Some of us do. Jan and I hope to capture some family background and historical anecdotes - for the benefit of younger generations and the general regalement. The broad message is: don't dismiss your memories as humdrum trivia, nor assume them to be common knowledge, lest they become forgotten, and your parents and grandparents become names with no colour or dimension. Please share what you know. Maybe what is here already will serve to jog your memories and encourage you to write some of them down? Great litererature or otherwise, we'd still love to hear your stories ..... and your comments on ours! just to explain how the website is organised: stories can be accessed through the links on the right of this page OR by clicking on the 'memoirs' heading above; photos are incorporated in each relevant story but can also be viewed alone (in a random selection) by clicking the 'pictures' heading; the mini cine films (about 50 of them) are also included in the relevant stories but have been uploaded to You Tube so can also be viewed without having to read all the stories. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=UUU0cB6TessgSq9C7zegoeVw Michael Charles Geoffrey Stokoe was born on the 18th May 1954 in Beckenham, south London where his parents were home on leave from Kenya. He returned to Kenya with the family a few months later. The Stokoes were living in Kisii at that time but moved to Kagumo College, Nyeri when Mike was about 3 .............. Between 1954 and 1969 Mike was happily part and parcel of the Stokoe family's Kenya story but that came to an end when he was about 15. He had a difficult transition from his Kenya life to being comfortably and contentedly settled in the UK where he is now. Mike left Kenya in July 1969 together with his Mum and sisters, Jan and Kathy, while his Dad stayed in Kenya. The female side of the family settled in Cornwall but Mike was enrolled as a boarder at Barnard Castle School in County Durham; it was the opposite end of the country from Cornwall but close to his Dad's side of the family: his Granny and Uncle Don, who was to act 'in loco parentis'. Mike survived Barnard Castle less than a year: hating school, being bullied by pupils and teachers, struggling academically - the school syllabus was so different from the one he had being studying at Duke of York School in Nairobi, he finally left and moved to be with his family in Cornwall. Living at with them at Hengar Manor he became a pupil at the same school as his sister Kathy – Sir James Smith's comprehensive in Camelford. Mike found life at Sir James Smith's almost as difficult as Barnard Castle. He sometimes refused to get up in the morning so would miss the bus and have to walk to school - a journey of some 6 miles; once he was sent home from school for wearing the wrong colour shirt – another long walk. He gained some respite when the family returned to Kenya for a holiday in the summer of 1971, remaining in Kenya with his Dad while the others returned to the UK. During 1971/2 Mike spent a year at Kericho with Stan doing a correspondence course in Maths. Stan also managed to fix him a temporary job with Root and Leakey (photographic) Safaris. Even back in the 70's the safari business was changing from hunting and killing animals to photographing them. This was a dream job for Mike as he had always wanted to be a Game Warden / Park Ranger; he loved wildlife and trips to the game parks and spent much of his childhood studying animal 'spoor' – drawing animal footprints and 'dung'. Mike's role at Root & Leakey was mainly driving and looking after the 'punters'. He would pick them up in Nairobi and take them to their camp site in the game park, usually the Masai Mara or Tsavo, where he also helped pitch the tents. Mike learned to speak Swahilli, and a bit of Masai, as another of his duties was to drive out to the Masai village to collect the dancers – Masai men, dressed in their warrior regalia, who were highly sought after to entertain the campers after a day's safari . Sometimes the guests went out on foot to get their animal photographs and Mike was responsible for leading foot safaris through Tsavo National Park: quite a responsibility considering the wild animals they would have encountered, these days they would be accompanied by an Askari with a gun! Mike kept his guests safe but scarily one day he got a bit lost. He didn't let on to anyone in the group, instead - with great presence of mind, he walked them towards the Tsavo River, from where he could follow the river back to the camp site. The river was highlighted by the line of bright green trees along its bank while the rest of the countryside was brown scrub, dotted with a few straggly thorn trees. When they eventually reached the river the safari guests were so hot and tired that they threw themselves into the water, ignorant of the fact that they might be disturbing the crocodiles! Fortunately the crocs were also hot and tired, and asleep further down stream and the party returned to camp unscathed. Sadly this adventurous lifestyle could not last and Mike returned to Cornwall later in 1972. Now 18 he signed up for a photography course at Plymouth College of Art, staying in student accommodation and returning home to Hengar for holidays. In reality Mike was not suited to an academic career: during the summer holiday from college he got a job at De Lank Quarry in St Breward, just a couple of miles from home. The work involved cutting and polishing large slabs of granite using water jets; the finished granite pieces were (and still are) used as part of the external fascia of banks and posh shops. Mike enjoyed the work, the camaraderie and of course the wages, so the photographic course was abandoned and he stayed at De Lank for the next 2 years. As a teenager in Cornwall, Mike had to travel around to find a social life: Camelford, Boscastle, Tintagel and the like. There was no social life at Hengar and not much more in St Tudy or St Breward. Socialising without driving was pretty impossible in Cornwall in the early 70's but luckily Mike passed his driving test first time when he was and he borrowed his Mum's car. He did have a few run-ins with his Mum over use of her car, especially as he kept damaging it !! Somewhere during this period he met Linda. Linda was a raven haired Cornish girl who was brought up on St Michaels Mount where her father worked for Lord St Leven as a boatman. He drove a boat (an aqua craft) known as “the Duck” across Mounts Bay to Penzance on a daily basis - when the tide was in the Duck was a boat and when the tide was out it became a land vehicle. When they first met Linda was living on the mainland and had a flat in Mousehole - about 50 miles from to St Tudy. They moved in together quite quickly and were married in St Tudy Parish Church in 1973/4. Not long after the wedding Mike was lured northwards again, this time for a house and a career. Stokoe Brothers garage in Loftus, North Yorkshire, was a family business; it was created and managed by Charlie Stokoe with his brother Stan as a silent partner. When Charlie died suddenly in 1972 Stan was still living in Kenya and not in a position to take over the business so he promoted Trevor Harding, Charlie's mechanic and right hand man, to be manager. Stan's family agreed that Mike and Linda could live in Charlie's house and Mike undertook to train as a mechanic on day release and to work in the business with Trevor. As with so many of Mike's other youthful ventures, this one was short lived, his marriage only lasted a couple of years. Linda moved away but Mike stayed in Loftus, completing his apprenticeship as a motor mechanic and continuing to work at the garage. But that was not the end of Mike's story.. While working at the garage in Loftus, which is next door to the Police station, the now divorced Mike became friends with the young police sargeant and his wife Christine. As sometimes happens between friends, Mike and Christine fell in love .......... and they eventually married in 1979. Mike left the garage and went to work in the Cleveland Potash mine where he remained for over 20 years. Mike and Christine have now been happily married for 40 years, their Ruby wedding celebrated in 2019. They actually celebrated ther 25th wedding anniversary in Cyprus, at the same time and place as Mike's Dad - Stan marked his 80th birthday: an opportunity for two great parties in the sunshine. In 2004 Mike and Christine were living in Cyprus having fallen in love with the place on a visit with Stan and Wendy (who spent their winters there). Mike and Christine lived there for 5 years and had a pool cleaning business, before finally moving back to Teeside in about 2007; mainly for health reasons, but they hope to retire back to Cyprus in 2020. As well as a 40 year marriage Mike and Christine also have 2 sons - Jonathan who is now 40 and Daniel 35. Christine originally hails from Carlisle and Mike is now a naturalised 'Northerner' having lived the last 40+years in Teeside, moving between Loftus and Saltburn by Sea where they are currently living. Early in 1969 things were changing in Kenya, Stan was starting to feel very insecure in his job. Although he had been awarded the MBE for Services to Education in Kenya and was now a college principal, he was now the last white person left in such a senior post in the Kenya Education Service; it seemed a position he could not maintain for much longer. Whilst on leave in the UK in the summer of 1969 Mike and Kathy were enrolled at schools in England; Jan had already finished at Kenya High School in December 1968 and had been offered a place at university in the UK starting in September 1969. In parallel with the above, Gordon and Irene Smithe (Muriel's sister and her husband), had decided to move their family out of London and had bought a chalet and caravan park in the grounds of a run down 'stately home' known as Hengar Manor, near Bodmin in Cornwall, and they were looking for some further investment. Summer of '69 saw the Stokoes and Smithes together at Hengar cooking up a plan. Once again we became an extended family with the Smithes and our cousins Paula and Martin, and after doubtless much discussion and argument, the plan was implemented: September – October 1969 - Stan made his investment in Hengar to secure a home for his family and eventually returned to his job in Kericho in October. - Muriel decided not to return to Kenya with Stan preferring to stay in England with her children, particularly as Kathy was only 11. Kathy and Muriel moved into one of the converted flats within Hengar Manor. - Kathy started as a pupil at Sir James Smith School in Camelford, about 6 miles from Hengar, where her cousins Paula and Martin were also pupils. She remained there until she was 16. - Mike age 15, was enrolled at Barnard Castle School, a minor public school in County Durham. He had to be a boarder but the school was quite close to Stan's family so his brother, Don, was to be 'in loco parentis'. - Janet (19) went off the Keele University, Newcastle-under-Lyme, as planned. What happened next - 1970 - Janet left university after just one term and moved into the flat at Hengar with her Mum and sister where in January 1970 her son Nicholas was born. She continued to live there until 1975. - Mike left Barnard Castle school early in 1970 as he was very unhappy; he was not doing well academically and he hated being a boarder. As a result he also moved into the flat at Hengar and became a pupil at Sir James Smiths School in Camelford. Despite these moves, the Stokoes, including baby Nicholas, were regularly reunited with Stan back in Kenya. Some or all of the family went over on holiday every year between 1970 and 1976 - mostly to Kericho and Diani Beach but also in Machakos. Cornwall 1970 to 1975 The manor house was surrounded by about 35 acres which included a private garden, a field containing chalets and caravans, a tumble-down barn, two walled gardens, woodland and a long tree lined driveway leading to the main road, about half a mile from the village of St Tudy. Kathy, Mike, Paula and Martin had to walk to the end of the drive, a good half mile, to get the school bus every morning. I regularly walked down to St Tudy village with Nick in his pram and later took him to a playgroup in the Village Hall. We also had a car - first a mini and then a Ford Escort - which was handy for shopping: in fact more so then than now, you could barely survive in Cornwall without a car. Mike and I both passed our driving test in Bodmin - he passed first time and I passed on my 4th attempt (I blame the bad habits I acquired drivng round Kericho with the College driver!!) We had to drive ... shopping in Camelford, nearest town, but also in Bodmin, Wadebridge and Truro. We loved the beaches at Trebarwith and Rock and enjoyed visiting Boscastle and Tintagel. Mike had a holiday job at a chippy in Tintagel while he and Martin went to discos at the Cobweb in Boscastle. Kathy went riding in St Breward. We had to go all the way to Port Isaac to see the Doctor although one day a week he had a surgery in St Tudy. Nick was born in Truro and later had his tonsils out at St Michaels Hospital in Hayle. Kathy's boyfriend lived on a farm near Wadebridge and Mike's first wife came from near Penzance. I met my husband Colin at Hengar and he lived in Lanivet, a village near Bodmin. Apart from being a bit isolated, Hengar was a lovely place to live but as a business proposition it struggled. It needed a lot of money spending on it to upgrade the chalets, convert the barn into more flats, revive and develop the walled gardens, and improve guest facilities and so on, but we didn't have that money. The lack of money created tension between the two families, evidenced mainly by constant arguments between my Mum and my Uncle. Eventually in about 1973/4 Dad bought a house and the Stokoes moved into St Tudy Village – to Cavalier Cottage. This was a two storey stone built cottage, with garden, in a end of terrace cul de sac, next door but one to the village shop. It was easier to make friends being in the village and I enjoyed living there. Nick went to play school in the village hall and at 4 ½ he became a pupil at the village school. In 1975 we moved to Brighton (before coming back to Cornwall) ............... another story I was a boarder at Kenya High School for Girls, in Nairobi, from 1962 to 1968, my formative teenage years. From age 13 to 18 I spend almost my whole life there, apart from days out and holidays. This is a story based on a genuine memory from my Kenya High School days, which I wrote up during my 'Memoir Writing' course. I have changed the names of my friends as I can't remember who was breaking the rules with me. I wake with Mary tugging my blanket. Blinking as my eyes adjust to the darkness and embarrassed at having fallen asleep (when we'd had a pact to stay awake till midnight), I quickly pull on my dressing gown and follow her, not forgetting to shove my pillow under the covers to disguise the emptiness of my bed. Luckily no one else stirs. Sue is waiting at the top of the stairs and wraith-like we descend to the basement. Once we reach the safety of the locker room we can use the torch, sparingly, but still no talking, just in case. A tin is retrieved from Mary's locker, behind her hockey pads; there is a smell of shoe polish and blanco. The prefect's shoes are on the shelf waiting to be polished by some unfortunate 'rabble'. We will get more than shoe polishing as a punishment if we're caught. My heart is pounding but there is no going back now, we're on a mission. At the rear of the locker room there is small window leading to a store room and one by one we climb onto the shelf, careful not to move the shoes, and squeeze through. Sue goes first as she's the tallest and its quite a drop down to the store room floor, she catches the tin then helps Mary and me down. I'm last and push the window to, without securing it so as not to impede our return journey, although looking back I wonder how we'll get up there. Now we can relax, confident that no one has seen or heard us, our mission meticulously planned and executed. I won't let Mary put the light on though, I'm still nervous, someone might see it and come to investigate. I'm a scaredy cat - afraid of breaking the rules. I can take the punishment but cringe with fear and embarrassment at getting caught and being shouted at. We sit on the floor, legs crossed, dressing gowns wrapped tightly, the pale moonlight seeping in round the loosely fitting door helps preserve our torch battery, and our faces light up at the contents of the tin: sugar daddies, black jacks and mars bars from tuck shop, the remains of Sue's Mums chocolate cake, and a packet of fizzies - which we have to lick as we have no water to dissolve them in...what a feast. We set about it greedily, almost forgetting where we are but luxuriating in our naughtiness and bravado. What a story we'll have to tell when we're back in the dorm tomorrow. Having polished off the contents of the tin we entertain ourselves by making animal silhouettes with the torch and telling ghost stories while giving our faces a scary glow by holding a torch under our chin. “Who might know when the ghosts go by, you might be the next to die They wrap you up in a big white sheet and drop you down about 6 feet All goes well for about a week and then your coffin springs a leak Worms crawl in and worms crawl out, they go in thin and come out stout Your eyes fall in and your teeth fall out And your brains come trickling down your snout Your tonsils turn a sickly green and pus oozes out like Devonshire cream” “Time to go back to bed, I think” says Sue. We had had great fun but just pray that matron won't be on the prowl as we creep back upstairs, and that none of the prefects will be making a midnight trip to the bathroom. First though, we have to get back through that window to the locker room, more of a challenge than we anticipated. Sue gives Mary a leg up and finds a box to heave herself up. I am last as usual and being the least athletic and tubbiest I am dragged up and through the window by my partners in crime. Phew, the chocolate cake doesn't help and my knees scrape across the window ledge. We are not caught though and soon I am back in bed, but unable to sleep as the adrenalin races round my body. Prior to 1969 my life has been detailed in the early Kenya stories, Kagumo and Kericho etc, this bit describes my transition from child to adult.............. Its December 1968 and end of term excitement is different this term, its our last term ever at the 'Boma' (aka the Kenya High School for Girls) so is tinged with both sadness and anticipation. ' A' levels were completed in November, results out in January so no need to worry just yet, but 6 years of friendships are coming to end as we go our separate ways into the world, in fact across the world. Special friendships have been forged and cemented by being at boarding school together, often 100s of miles away from our family. Autograph and address books are filling up with promises to keep in touch, and tears are shed as its time for goodbyes and parents arrive to take us home. My best friends Angie, Andi and I are staying in Kenya for a few months more and have already arranged a safari together and I think Dad has plans to get me a job in Kericho as my university course won't start till October. I'm looking forward to a few months holiday and spending time with family and friends. When my results arrive I find I have done well – grade A's in French and German and Grade B in English, my place at Keele University to study Modern Languages is confirmed, future mapped out. The first six months of 1969 are happy and full of fun. The camping trip is fab: we camp for 3 days on the shores of Lake Naivasha with Angie's friends Roddy and Travis; Roddy drives us in his landrover around hot, dusty but scenic places like Mount Longanot and Hells Gate, we cook on a camp fire, lie in the sun and drink Tusker larger. I don't think we washed at all as we were afraid to swim in the lake for fear of nasty diseases, hippos or even crocs. The hub of my social life in Kericho is still the water ski-ing club at Kerenga dam. We go there every Sunday and I am getting quite good. I am also having golf lessons and going to a few discos at the golf club, very 60's!!. The club is also where my parents socialise - Dad is an excellent golfer and also quite a 'thesp' and is performing in yet another pantomime while Mum is painting the scenery as well as helping with costumes and makeup. Although many of my friends live out of town on Tea Estates we hang out regularly at the Tea Hotel swimming pool as well as at Kerenga. I am learning to drive too. Mum gave me some initial lessons and now Dad lets me go out in the Volvo with George, the college driver. I drive all around Kericho township but George doesn't really instruct me and I later learn that I had picked up lots of bad habits - I fail my test 3 times when I get to England. My friend Andi comes to stay and we get a ride in the \"Atmospherics Incorporated\" plane for a spectacular view of Kericho from above; then I go to Chemelil, up near Kisumu where her Dad works in a sugar factory, to spend a few days with her as there is a big party planned. When I come home I fall seriously ill with malaria and am confined to bed for several days. Our doctor diagnosed flu so I didn't get the correct treatment immediately; at one point I was hallucinating and Mum thought I was going to die! Thankfully I didn't die nor had I contracted the recurring or cerebral malaria, so I made a full and permanent recovery after a couple of weeks. At the end of April Dad has fixed me a job at Greensteds primary school in Nakuru, as a kind of teaching assistant. The Headmaster and his wife - George and Madge Jenner, both taught at Nyeri primary when I was there and Dad knows them very well, plus my brother and sister are both pupils at Greensteds. I am to work here for one term only, until we go to England on leave in July. Nakuru is about 100 miles from my home in Kericho so I have to live here as well. I have a room, with shared bathroom, in the boarding block and I am working with Anita Dickinson-Chetham. Anita is a beautiful blonde, a bit older than me, and I am in the greatest awe of her. I once went to a lunch party around her parents swimming pool at their Tea Estate home in Kericho. She is engaged to a guy called John who also works at Greensteds and they are very friendly. Anita loves horses and often rides ones from the school pony club. One evening she persuades me to go riding with her and John, I agree even though I am not much of a rider, unlike my sister who is a pony club star, and have probably only sat on a horse once or twice. As the three of us are riding up hill, with Anita in the lead, her horse stumbles over some rocks and kicks out at the horse behind – unfortunately mine - which rears up and throws me 'out of the side door'. Well actually I just slide off the horse sideways onto the ground but I grab my shin in pain and feel blood coming through my trousers. It turns out to be quite a bad cut so John drives me to the local hospital in Nakuru where an off duty British doctor stitches me up. Anita reckons he was drunk because he did a very poor job, instead of a neat pencil scar I have one that gapes across my left shin, still quite noticeable even 40 years on. It is at Greensteds that I realise I am pregnant, an agonising time when I retreat into a state of denial, the longer it goes on the harder it is to 'own up' and address the issue so I say nothing. At the end of July 1969 we go to England for Dad's next leave, and where Kathy, Mike and I are all going to new schools/colleges. We spend most of the summer at Hengar Manor in Cornwall (which is to become our new home) but no one seems to notice or even comment on my expanding waistline - apart from Mum and she doesn't suspect the real reason for it. Finally it is the end of September and time to start university, Dad drives me up to Newcastle under Lyme and so into 'Freshers week'. So many interesting clubs to join so what do I sign up for ? Well mountaineering for a start (in my condition???) and I even go on a trip up Snowdon. About 2 weeks into term all students have to register with one of the university doctors, there is a face to face registration interview at the end of which the doctor asks me if there is anything else she should know. I take a deep breath and blurt out “I'm six months pregnant”....... its actually quite a relief to face up to the truth after those months of denial. I tell her about my thoughts of going to an unmarried mothers home in Liverpool that I have researched but she persuades me that I must tell my parents first so I pluck up courage and phone my Mum (Dad has already gone back to Kenya). The next day my Uncle Gordon drives up to Keele and takes me back to Cornwall. Nothing terrible happens, the world doesn't end, I'm not thrown out on the street nor banished to a convent or even to that home for unmarried mothers. Everyone is really supportive, no recriminations or difficult questions. By Christmas I have been to the doctor and am registered to have the baby at Treliske Hospital in Truro, sometime in January, and I have two maternity dresses. Dad is sending extra money but Gordon makes me register for National Assistance, a creepy little man comes round from the DHSS and asks me lots of questions....”no, I have no contact with the baby's father, he's in another country, he doesn't know about the baby”....and a few weeks later they send me an order book, to be cashed at the Post Office in St Tudy. Of course the family want to know who the father is but when I open my mouth to speak no words will come out. Life goes on. In fact life at Hengar is pretty quiet, but its so good to have my Mum here to support me. Its a typical Cornish winter, non stop rain, but we go on little shopping trips to Bodmin and Camelford, and Truro when I'm down there for a hospital check up. I also have a Mothercare mail order catalogue which is wonderful. Two months is a short pregnancy and just 3 weeks after Christmas spent with family and cousins my baby is born. Its a Wednesday evening about 11pm, Mum and I are watching the wrestling on telly and I think I might be going into labour. In fact I have no idea because I don't really know what labour might feel like, but I am past my due date so Mum decides to call an ambulance to take me the 50 odd miles to Treliske Hospital. Nothing happens when I arrive there so the following day I have to be induced. I have 2 vivid memories of that time, firstly the panic of waking up fuzzy brained from the gas and air, unsure whether I have had a baby or not, and if so where is it ?? The nurse reassures me that my baby boy is fine and they have taken him off to the baby unit so that I can sleep. Second is the loneliness of being in hospital for two whole weeks, due to a urine infection, when families can only visit at weekends – only fathers during the week. I also remember the kindness of a Geordie nursing assistant who called me 'flower' and chatted to me every day. Nicholas Peter was born on 23 January 1970, 8lb 1oz; I registered him while still in hospital and have no idea why I choose those names for him – no connection to anyone I know. I do eventually get to take him home just before before my 20th birthday. He is perfect: healthy and strong, obviously suffering no ill effects from lack of care during pregnancy. I adore him - as do all my family. None of us have ever had a single days regret about his arrival into the world and he has made us all proud, especially me. Kathy is the youngest member of the Stokoe family; she was born in Nyeri on 26 October 1957 and grew up running about in the Kenyan sunshine, chatting in Swahili with Mukeria, her ayah, and enjoying family activities and holidays (which are described in more detail in other Kenya stories on this website) until she went off the Greensteds School in Nakuru aged 5. She had to be a boarder because her Mum was still recovering in England and her Dad was hundreds of miles away in Kericho. She did have her brother to keep her company but Kathy was quickly taken under the wing of Madge Jenner, the Headmasters wife and she didn't seem to be homesick at all! It was at Greensteds that Kathy developed her love of horse riding which she continued back home in Kericho by joining the Pony Club. She also competed in the Nakuru show when she was about 10. Shortly before we left Kenya we had the loan of two horses to look after at home in Kericho. They were Copper and Stubbs and Kathy had to feed and groom them as well as ride them around the College. Kathy riding in Kericho and also at the Nakuru Show Kathy was more interested in riding than swimming. She joined the Pony Club and became a star rider. Her she is riding at Kericho Club in 1966 (2.05 mins) Kathy in her starring role as a show jumper again, this time in 1970 at Nakuru show (not sure who else is in the film) 1.17 min Kathy didn't attend secondary school in Kenya as when the family finally left in 1969 Kathy was only 11. She moved to Cornwall with her Mum, to live at Hengar Manor at St Tudy near Bodmin: a large manor house divided into flats where her cousins, the Smithes, were living and runnung a caravan and chalet park business. She was soon joined by her sister and brother. Kathy thrived in Cornwall; she settled in well, made friends and enjoyed being a pupil at Sir James Smiths in Camelford, she did well academically and was quite sporty - being awarded 'Victrixludorum' on sports day for running both the first and last leg of the 100m relay. She was able to continue her passion for horse by riding at stables in nearby St Breward with her friend Julie Parsons. She also fell in love when she was 17, with Rob Reskelly, a boy from school whose family had a farm near Wadebridge. Sadly in 1975 when she was only 17, Kathy had to move to Brighton with her mum, sister and nephew, and complete her A levels at a new school. She never really settled in Brighton and after completing her exams, she moved back to the Reskelly's farm in Cornwall where she lived until about 1979; she was living there when her Mum died in Kenya in October 1976. Her teenage relationship with Rob didn't last into her twenties, it ended when she moved to Plymouth to secretarial college and work. One of her first jobs was with local TV company, TSW: she worked as a 'capgen operator', typing up the credits and screen titles, and she even appeared regularly on TV, albeit hidden beneath her alter ego \"Gus Honeybun\" – a big smiley rabbity puppet who did bunny hops and ear waggling while the presenter read out children's birthday messages. It was in Plymouth in about 1981 that she met another Rob, well a Robbie this time, and they later moved in together and later went on 'a big adventure' together. In 1986 Kathy and Robbie bought a sailing boat, a 40 ish foot 'Westerly' which they re-named Karobi (mix of kathy and robbie). After a few months doing the boat up and taking navigation classes the intrepid pair quit their jobs, sold their house and left Plymouth heading for France. They sailed away one evening in October hoping that it would be quieter crossing the Channel at night, a brave decision which put their lack of navigation experience to the test. During the early hours Robbie realised that all was not well, Karobi was grounded on a rock just off the Channel Island of Alderney. Fortunately as the tide rose they were able to re-float the yacht and continue their journey unscathed. This and other dramas were not disclosed until much later, when they were safely back home! Once Karobi had crossed 'La Manche' and was safely moored in Honfleur Harbour, the next task for her crew was to stow her mast in readiness for a long voyage through France, following its rivers and canals south to Marseilles. The journey took them nearly 3 months - fun and eventful, meeting many like-minded nautical travellers. After reaching the port of Sete, near Marseilles the next target destination was Alicante, achieved in a series of one day sailing 'hops' down the Spanish coast arriving there in time for Christmas. Christmas Day 1986 was a very jolly occasion in the company of fellow water borne travellers they had met en route and a couple of UK friends who flew over to join them. Once the festivities were over and the weather had started to improve – about April 1987, plans for the next stage of their journey were implemented – destination Greece. This time Karobi and her crew undertook a number of extended 'hops' from one island to the next, across the Mediterranean, with the crew having to stay awake all night; they sailed from Alicante to the Balearic Islands, then to Sardinia, Sicily and finally across to Zante with a few days to rest between each leg of the journey. They arrived in Zante (Zakynthos) in June 1987 and remained, moored up in Laganas Bay to rest and recuperate for a few months. More visitors came, including sister, Jan and Robbie's brother Brian. Later in the year Karobi headed though the Corinth canal to the Saronic islands, ending up in Poros where both sailors, more especially Robbie, had been regular visitors; they settled down to a period of partying and a bit of olive picking until the Greek winter set in ... then they battened down Karobi's hatches and flew home to Plymouth for Christmas. The following year (spring 1988) Kathy and Robbie flew back to Karobi to spend another year in Greece, again with lots of friends visiting. Eventually, summer over, the couple agreed that it was time to take Karobi home, completing their epic journey in reverse, again arriving back in Plymouth for Christmas. Finally in 1989 Karobi was sold and Kathy started her TV work again, initially on a temporary/casual contract basis, but eventually she got back into full time work and was able to buy another house. Robbie however, couldn't settle, and decided to buy another boat – Patsy Jean – an old fishing boat from Guernsey – longer and wider than Karobi, but without sails and requiring even more renovation. Between about 1989 and 1995 Patsy Jean became the hub of day trips and mini 'booze cruises' in and around Plymouth as well as sailing holidays to Greece with Kathy and Robbie's friends on board. Finally Robbie and Patsy Jean 'retired' together and they can still be found bobbing around the Greek (Ionian) Island of Lefkas, in the port of Niddry. Kathy did settle down after the adventure was over and when she met Roger in 1996 she moved in with him in Bude, North Cornwall. Their son Fletcher was born in 1997. Roger has his own business making ie 'shaping' surfboards and Kathy works as a teaching assistant in Bude/Stratton primary school. This year - 2019 - after more than 22 years together Kathy and Roger decided to get married. The ceremony was held on the 8th April 2019 at the Beach Hotel in Widemouth Bay. It was a lovely occasion and an opportunity for family and friends to get together for a big party. Sadly her father Stan was not there as he died in 2015 but her step mum Wendy wouldn't have missed it for the world!! Bude is where Kathy and Roger will stay and they are about to move house for the 6th time and are hoping this will be their 'forever home'. I have had a lot of questions from Mother recently so I thought that while I was answering them I would make a few copies so that the Stokoes and others could have all the same news without my having to write it all again. So I will put all the general news first, then add personal bits to separate people at the end. I'm not sure what I've written about already, so if you come to a bit you know, just skip it! I'll put it under headings to make it clearer. I expect I have said a good deal about her already! Anyway, she is quite a little girl now, not a baby any longer. She has grown a lot recently, and is quite tall for her age, but not so chubby as she was. Her hair is quite long, too, and just curls a bit round her neck. It is still very blond. She is very active, and a bundle of mischief, tearing about all over the place and climbing onto everything. She talks all the time, but still no proper words, mostly a language of her own. At least, all she says that is recognisable is still just “Mummy”, “Daddy”, “Gone”, “Look at dat”, “Pin” and “Joseph” (the house boy). Her 'Janet' language is very expressive, however,and she understands nearly everything that it said to her, both in English and Swahili. I suppose learning the two languages together slows things up a bit for her. She comes out with the odd Swahili words occasionally. She feeds herself well, and has a good appetite, sleeps well and has 14 teeth and some more coming. She is not very well house trained yet, however she is improving in that respect. She is very intrigued with the new baby in the house next door to ours – Charles Morwood. He is about 5 weeks old now. She keeps running off up the garden on her own to see him when he is out in his pram, lifts up the mosquito net and peers at him intently, gingerly touching any part of him that is visible outside the blanket. She is most upset if he screams. (She would be thrilled with a baby brother of her own now, I'm sure, but one doesn't seem to be very eager to put in an appearance! We are still hoping) ... she is still very fond of her books, they keep her amused for hours. She knows all the animals in her rag book by their noises, not their names. She turns the page and makes the appropriate noise (Moo, wuff wuff, miaou etc are all very well but what happens when you come to a giraffe!) she is trying to learn the names of those in Mother's rag book. We hope she'll be able to see some of them before very long. We did go out into the game park one morning, but there wasn't much about – we saw a giraffe and gnus and gazelle and zebra, but she is a little young to take much notice of them yet. We have been looking after the Hesketh's little dachs. Puppy, “Muffet” for the odd weekends while they have been away and Janet and her get on like wildfire – Janet treats Muffet somewhat roughly but she doesn't seem to mind, and in return she (Janet) gives her (Muffet) nearly all her tea (if we don't stop her). There are so many dogs about the place now of all shapes and sizes – they are all very friendly, and Janet now goes up and embraces all dogs round the neck most affectionately when she sees them – which is all very well but one day she may come across a 'kali' (bad tempered) one. I must send some drawings of the D.O.Y. dogs to Mother so that she can make another rag-book of them! Janet loves Muffet so much that I am thinking about trying to get one like her next year. Dachs are good dogs to have out here, because of their size (they travel in cars easily) and their coats are smooth (they do not collect so many ticks and things) J would certainly love an animal of some sort. He is very fit, and has been working very hard this holiday on his Swahili. He took the Preliminary oral exam at the beginning of the holidays, and passed, and now he is trying for the 'Standard' at the end of this month (written and oral). You have to pass this exam before you get any increments if you work in the Government here – it is really quite a complicated language when spoken correctly – most people speak 'Kitchen Swahili' a kind of equivalent to Pidgin English, which is understood but sounds awful to anyone who knows the proper grammatical constructions. They speak the genuine Swahili at the coast, I believe. It is closely related to Arabic. It is very complicated to learn, because all the subjects, tenses, prepositions etc to the verbs are appended at the beginning of the verb, so that it is hardly recognisable at all by the time you have finished with it! This also makes it very difficult to look anything up in the dictionary, because you have to decide first where the real word begins and how much of it is prefixes etc. For example take a word like 'nitakapokikula' which means 'when I shall have eaten it' (relating to food): 'ni' means I, 'taka' – 'shall have' (future tense), 'po' – 'when', 'ki' – it (relating to food and his has to agree) and 'kula' is to eat – the stem of the verb. I don't know if this is strictly accurate but you can see the sort of thing. Some of it is most involved. However, our Stan is really slogging away at it and has a good chance of passing, I think. He has until next march to pass so he has time for another shot if he fails this time …. He and some others have been going into town for conversations with an Arab Sheik all this week for practice. Apart from all this studying, he has had a couple of games of golf with Harry, and finds he is quite proficient at it – now he is keen to play more, but it is out of the question in term time. Term starts again on Monday, and it looks like like being an extremely busy one for evryone. We are really short staffed here now and it will be even worse next year. There are no new staff definitely appointed yet, and we need about 6! If the new buildings are completed in time (which looks doubtful) and the proper number of new boys can come next year, there is just a chance that Stan may be given a junior house. If he does, it will be quite a feather in his cap, as he is the youngest member of staff. He is very much hoping that this comes off, as it may help him to get onto a higher salary scale next tour (after our leave). At present he is only an 'Assistant Master' and all the others (bar one) are 'Education Officers' which means their salaries are slightly higher now, but more important, the top salary is about £300 higher. If Stan does not manage to get transferred to this scale, it will mean he will be on his top salary by the time he is 35, and that will be £815 p.a., which isn't very much for out here, where the cost of living is so high, especially if we have children to educate, it will be practically impossible to manage unless I work all the time. School fees are quite considerable, especially for boarders. So, Stan is going to try for this transfer, and the Headmaster says there is a good chance of his getting it, especially if he does good work as a Housemaster and teaches some classroom subjects. He is at present an Assistant Housemaster, and works very hard at it – takes games every night, and so on. He is also going to teach a little junior English this term. I think he is looking forward to that. As for me, I am still working in the school office, and shall probably keep it up till the end of the year at least. If there is a chance of getting a Matron's job next year, I may take it, as it would mean less rigid hours, and I could be with Janet more, also I would get free meals in school, and no work during school holidays. (In the office there is quite a lot, and I am only entitled to three weeks holiday in the year.) I hope I shall be able to do this, but a lot of staff wives want Matron's jobs, naturally, as it is so convenient to have a job on the spot, and they are all short of money,even those on higher salaries than us …..As I told the families, I had to have three days in hospital in July to have a bit of tidying up inside, but it wasn't really unpleasant. I went in the new Princess Elizabeth Hospital for Women in Nairobi, where everything is new and comfortable (Dunlopillo mattresses etc) and where I was looked after very nicely. I am quite looking forward to going there if I do have another baby! Of course we have to pay for this, though – 36/- a day, of which the Government refund 15/-. You have to pay your own Doctor's bills, but you can go to a Government doctor for advice and free medicine – I believe they are allowed to charge for operations and confinements. I have also had quite a few visits to the dentist lately, and I am expecting a nice fat bill from him shortly – no free dental service here. I've had 4 fillings, and one very nasty extraction, and now I have a large gap, so I am going to have a small plate. I suppose the whole lot will cost in the region of £20. Isn't it depressing. (I am giving Janet extra vitamin D, on the dentist's advice, in the hope that she will have better teeth than me! - calcium is lacking in this country) …. So much for my physical state! (And, a propos of that, I have got a thinner tummy now! I still have to get down another inch to get into some of my older clothes though).... I have been very busy lately, when I am not in the office I have been making Janet a dressing-gown (very fetching, in pale blue Viyella spotted in deep pink, and with frills!) and Fatuma a white dress and I have a skirt and blouse to make up for myself, and a lot of other things to mend and finish etc., besides scenery and costumes to design for the school play (they are doing scenes from Henry IV at the end of next month) and the odd puddings to make and so on. I don't do much in the way of housekeeping, except a very little cooking, and cleaning the lavatory! (The boys don't do this) – and shopping, of course. Even then I never seem to have any time to do all the things I want to do, such as starting some oil painting. I wish I didn't have to work, but it is essential that we save some money while I can work. We could just live on Stan's salary if we economise strictly and don't indulge in any luxuries, - our bills, cut to the minimum, come to a few pounds a month less than Stan's pay, so we would have practically nothing for clothes, holidays, emergencies, etc. However, we intend to do this (live on Stan's pay only) for the next six months, and put my entire salary (after we have paid for our new car) into the bank. This means cutting out all drinks except for the occasional beer, and limiting cigarettes, and watching the housekeeping bills closely. One is tempted here to regard as necessities what would be luxuries in England – but it is a temptation as there is so much available in the way of luxuries. The cost of living is very high – butter is 3/2d a pound, and there is no margarine, so it has to be used for cooking and everything. A 2 ½ lb joint of beef costs about 5/6d so we only have one joint a week, as we would in England, and the odd pound of stewing steak, liver etc. Fish is very scarce and expensive, except when lake fish from Lake Victoria is in season. Sea fish is an awful price here, we very rarely get any. A pair of kippers costs 1/6d. Friut is reasonably cheap,what there is of it – local oranges and bananas, which are not awfully good, are plentiful, and so are pineapples (these are about 1/6 – 2/- according to size.) We don't get very much South African fruit, which is disappointing, and we only seem to get oranges for a very short part of the year, and an occasional batch of grapefruit. We have fruit salad (pineapple, orange and banana) about 4 nights out of 7 for pudding, I never know what else to have except jelly or custard, one doesn't seem to want hot puddings here, and there is practically no fruit for stewing, I miss the soft fruit very much – and apples. We scarcely ever see an apple and tinned fruit is 3/- and rather taseless. I never know what to give Janet for sweet – she likes the baby tins of apple and prune, but we can't always get those, and they are expensive too. We get cape gooseberries sometimes, but they are very acid and pippy. We do get a few strawberries, but they are very small and rather disappointing. They do not seem to be able to grow raspberries, blackcurrants or anything like that. We certainly don't get peaches or apricots either, except in tins at about 3/6d or more … Actually, I don't think we get any more variety in foods than you do at home, though, of course, we do get as much as we want of butter, cheese, bacon, eggs etc (the cheese is not usually very good here). I hear the rations have been cut again, its rather hard, isn't it. What a measly littlebit of cheese! We can get chickens for about 5/- each, but again, they are usually rather skinny, and hardly make more than 2 meals. We scarcely ever get any lamb, or even mutton, and the pork is very expensive. We live on beef and chickens. I miss the fish very much. Eggs are plentiful for most of the year, sometimes they disappear during the rains. They cost about 3/6 a dozen, best grade. We sometimes get small native eggs from a 'toto' who comes to the door, for 2/- a dozen. They are fresh and quite good. The vegetables are reasonably cheap, but again, they usually seem rather tasteless, and there isn't much variety – just cauliflower, cabbage, carrots, onions, and usually beans or peas. We sometimes get spinach from the school garden. Potatoes are always rather small, we never get nice enough one to bake in their jackets. We are thinking of trying to grow some of our own vegetables. I think it would be worth while. Well, all this about housekeeping seems to have come under the heading of 'Muriel' but I thought it might interest you – mother has asked some questions about fruit etc. She also asked about our garden: It is coming along fine – we now have a nice lawn, quite green and wellcovered, and quite a lot of flowers. The verbena and petunia seem very hardy and have flowered well. We also have some small sunflowers, which have bloomed for several months, quite a lot of nasturtiums, pink-flowered creeping geranium, some larkspur in different colours, tobacco flowers, (these grow like mad here) , heliotrope, forget-me-not, canna lilies, and I have some violas and antirrhinums coming on nicely which have not flowered yet. Altogether, we have quite a pretty garden already,some grown from seed and some from cuttings taken from other people. This country is really a gardener's paradise, provided the rains don't fail and you have a hose. Things seem to grow if they are just broken off and stuck in the ground! Its a bit amazing, when you think that nothing was put in before March, not even the grass. The shrubs are coming on well, and we could have bougainvillea, hibiscus and others blooming this time next year, and quite a nice little macracarpa hedge. The garden should be lovely this time next year, for that reason, among others, I should be sorry to be moved out of this house. We've worked hard on the garden, and spent quite a bit on it – trellises, shrubs,etc. It only remains now, I think, to tell you about our holiday. We left Janet for four days with Mrs Spencer, who very nobly offered to have her – she has three little girls of her own, and Mr Spencer took Stan and I in his new Morris Oxford for a trip around Mount Kenya, and for the first time since I've been out here I saw a bit of the Kenya countryside. It really is beautiful. I was absolutely thrilled, - living here in Nairobi you really get no idea of it. We went on a circular tour of about 500 miles, stopping three nights at hotels. We passed through all types of country, first going round the Escarpment at the end of the Great rift Valley, where you suddenly come upon the wonderful vista of the Rift spread out for miles and miles below you, it is an amazing sight. Then down and across the floor of the valley – very dry and hot, with little scrubby thorn trees; then up through rolling green farmland with herds of lovely British cattle, to Thomson's Falls, where we stayed the first night. There had been a few heavy storms (including one we met on the road, and had to put chains on the car because of the deep mud) and there was a lot of water coming over the falls – it was a wonderful sight. The next morning we set off through the wilder game country to the north of the mountain, across to Nanyuki, where we had lunch, then on again and across the shoulder of the foothills, where we had amazing views of the Northern Frontier Province, across towards Abyssinia, absolutely miles and miles of it, a sort of brownish colour,interspersed with queer shaped mountains, mostly dead volcanoes, spreading right away as far as the eye can see (plenty of game there, but we didn't have time to go out and look for any – not much civilisation either!) then we came on to Meru, a tiny place north east of the mountain, for the next night. The country changes very suddenly here, and coming round south of the mountain it is almost tropical – you come along a winding road round all the valley, about 90 miles, with about 90 hairpin bends, crossing dozens of beautiful little mountain streams running down thickly wooded valleys full of enormous cedar trees and thick undergrowth of palms and bushes, with here and there clearings and groups of thatched native huts in the midst of banana plantations. Really beautiful country, so lush and fertile looking. The third night we came back to Nyeri, our side of the mountain, where we stayed at the local 'pub', and came home the next day, back down to Nairobi and the least interesting part of the trip. At Nyeri, which is a lovely spot with a glorious view of Mount Kenya one side and the Aberdare Mountains on the other, we visited Mr Harris's farm – at least the land where he is building a small farm. It is a beautiful spot. He is going to retire there, and grow maize and pyrrethrum (a very lucrative business), and keep a few cattle. (Most people retiring do the same thing here – buy small farms and live off the land – very nice for them, but not so good for the country, which really needs to be developed and farmed systematically on a large scale, not by individuals doing it as a hobby in their old age) Well we came home thoroughly thrilled with it all, and realising how people can fall for this country in big way. You can quite understand what a thrilling life it was for the early settlers, and how they hate life in Nairobi! They used to have to shoot leopards and rhino on their doorsteps, but it must have been an exhilarating life. Some of the farmers made money,others were unlucky – it was a very chancy life, but they must have been tough, and they must have loved the land. The weather was fine when we went away - opur “summer” just starting, with blue skies and hot sunshine and a “sea-sidey” feel in the air. Well, I really think I must leave off now and go home – I am going a bit cross eyed, so I will finish in personal letters and just say I hope you haven't been bored by the personal details, which are put in for mothers' benefits!\" Easter Monday 1952 (from DOYS Nairobi) Dear Mother, I feel very guilty about not writing to you for so long – I just don't know where the weeks have gone to! It seems just as difficult to find time to write now as when I was in the office – I've been meaning to write for ages. The end of term is usually pretty hectic, even the Matrons have a lot to do – all the bedding to collect and send to the laundry, supervise the storing away of mattresses, and so on (86 mattresses and the the relative number of sheets and blankets, for the two houses in my block). A couple of weeks before the end of term we had house plays – Stan was responsible for two, because he was producing the Delamere play (“The Dear Departed” - quite amusing) and helping one of his Prefects produce the Junior play, which was a silly thing all about buried treasure, and the whole House (35 of them) were in it. All the little ones were pirates, wearing their pyjama trousers and games jerseys and coloured hankies on their heads – they looked quite colourful on the stage, especially as they had all given themselves moustaches, beards, black eyes, scars, tattoo marks, and so on, with black ink. They had a fine time, as you can imagine. Some of them are so small, they are really quite children; they are all twelve or thirteen years old, but some of them really do look such little boys, especially in their pyjamas, In contrast, the Head of the House, who is sixteen only, is about six feet tall and proportionately well developed! He made an impressive Pirate Chief, with all the little ones as his crew. The Delamere play was quite well done, and everyone enjoyed it. Two of the boys made very good women, with borrowed clothes and a little stuffing ! I did the make up and a good time was had by all. On Palm Sunday, the School Choir (which includes some of the staff and some borrowed soloists) did Bach's St Luke Passion. Dominic Spencer is a keen musician, and he trained them. They worked very hard at it and it went off very well (though of course not quite like the Alleyn's choir! - the school isn't up to that standard yet.) Stan is in the choir, Mrs Spencer says he has a very nice voice, but he needs to learn to read music. He thoroughly enjoys the choir. I wish I could be in it too! - I may insist on being in it next year, even if I don't exactly help I think I could promise not to hinder, because they are hoping to have a go at the 'Messaih' and I know that so well... Stan has been going to rehearsals every Sunday night during this term, so that has been another night on my own. During term time we wives don't see much of our husbands, although they are working on the spot. -there is always something happening, games duties, house duties, plays, meetings and so on. This Wednesday, when all the boys had gone, we had a staff party down in the new boarding block. We had dinner first, then dancing in the new common room (which is one of the few rooms in the school that have parquet floors instead of red concrete). The Head is very keen on Scotch Reels, the Dashing White Sargeant, and all those, and he had everyone doing them, the men stripping off their dinner jackets and dancing in their shirt sleeves, some with braces and some with trousers tied up with scarves or ties ! It wasn't exactly dignified, and extremely warm, but quite fun. I should think the boys would have had a laugh if they could have seen some of them galloping about and puffing and blowing. Now that our Staff is up to about 30 strong (including Matrons) some of them are 'not as young as they were'. The Head himself is a very good dancer, though he looks a lot older than his forty five odd years. Last week was quite an exciting week (for us), as we also had a party of our own on Saturday, for my birthday. We thought it was about time we did, as we haven't had once since we've been here. We made quite a lot of preparations, and I cooked sausage rolls and cheese straws,and made dozens of “toasties”. About 20 people came, and it all went off very nicely. You will be glad to hear that it was a very sober party, and not nearly as much liquid refreshment was consumed as we had catered for. I think that usually happens at that sort of party – people are too busy chatting (and in this case eating) to drink very much. So it didn't cost as much as we'd expected. Janet was a little angel for once, and slept all evening without stirring, in spite of considerable noise. I had my hair cut and curled, and made myself a dress of grey coat-taffeta, which was quite a success, though it only cost about 50/-. (it would have cost at least £15 if I'd bought it) Everyone seems to approve of my hair short – I'm going to have it permed at the end of the month. The most exciting piece of recent news is that the Art Master is unexpectedly leaving this term, and as a Relief could not be found, I am going to teach Art for two terms! I am very thrilled about this, its what I've always hoped might happen, of course, but never really expected it. Its not absolutely definite yet, but I think it must be as we had the dinner party as farewell to Mr Roberts, and the school presented him with a silver tankard, so it would be a bit silly if he didn't go now. I don't know yet what salary they are going to pay me, as I have no actual teaching qualification, but it should be more than I get as a Matron, I hope. Anyway, even if it isn't, I am still very pleased and it will be a jolly interesting experience, and I have much more confidence about teaching now than I would have had ten years ago. I'm quite sure I can manage as well as 'Taffy', who is really a woodwork instructor and has had no art training at all. Unfortunately, the school has no art room as yet, pnly a temporary classroom with not much space and a rickety floor, but it will at least be fun. I hope I shan't have any trouble with discipline – I think I will be all right as long as I can keep them interested, and that shouldn't be hard, there are so many aspects to art that Taffy hasn't touched on and that they could have a go at. About twenty boys are taking School Certificate in December in Art, the others can do what they like, there is no syllabus to be followed. And School Certificate Art is very simple ….This will help me make an effort to produce more of my own work, too. Stan has bought me a very nice big easel and some more brushes and paints, and I am definitely going to try and do some oil painting this holiday. I want to do some portraits. I've done one or two in pastel, one of Pam was quite successful, but the others not so, - I need more practice, but I'm pleased to find that I’m not really any worse than I was when I left the Art School. Kate Spencer wants me to do her three little girls in pastel, I do hope I can make a good job of it. Children are difficult, of course, it's the sitting that's the trouble. The older one may be able to sit a bit, but I'm not sure about the others. I shall have to make some preliminary sketches from photographs, I expect. I'll try and do one of Janet, too. I've had her Polyfoto taken, and will sent you some of the little ones with this letter – they are quite good, and I am getting a big one for you later, - they are being done now, as a matter of fact, but I don't know whether I can send them Air Mail or not. I must go now and see about Janet's dinner, Stan has had her out all morning, and I expect he's about had enough of it by now – she is a \"little angel\" and \"so sweet\" in small doses to other people, but she is a handful in large doses, and can be an absolute little devil! I'm quite sure she's more mischievous than any boy, and always, every minute, getting into some trouble or other, - running off with the scissors, spilling ink on the carpet, climbing upon chairs and getting things out of drawers, eating things, scribbling on the wall, and all the rest … if smacked, she smacks back! If frustrated, she throws herself on the floor and yells, or scratches... but when she is good, she's adorable, talks any amount in English and Swahili, looks at books and is very affectionate. Of course, she is worse with me than anyone, won't let me out of her sight for two seconds, even to go to the lavatory, and climbs all over me if I try to read or sew, demanding attention, wanting to be in on it too. I know this is only natural at this age, but it's very exhausting, especially as she hardly ever goes to sleep in the afternoons now, and is at it all day. Fatuma has gone off today on two and a half week's leave, so it will be good practice for my patience! Stan wants to go off for four days with Harry and Peter Collister on a golfing and fishing trip, - I'm not awfully keen on the idea of being alone with Janet, especially at night, but it seems a bit mean if I object to him going. I wish I could go too, but Janet would be a menace in a hotel. Of course, Pam Hesketh is at work in any case, and has her own friends in town, and is quite please for Harry to go, I think she is having a girlfriend to stay with her, and Ann Collister is one of those tough types who doesn't mind being alone, in fact she says it is a nice change, and means she can read in bed! … Her two boys are four and five, so they are able to be sent out on their own to play quite a bit now. I suppose I must be tough too, but I must say I am happier with Stan around. I hate sleeping alone in the house. I meant to finish this on the typewriter, but went to sleep after lunch (Janet actually went to sleep today) and then we went out for a walk. The school is very quiet, 9.30pmquite a few people are away.We have a swimming bath now! The filtration plant has not arrived yet, but it has been filled with water for the holidays and not many people will be in it. I haven't been in yet but Stan went in yesterday, and took Janet for a splash – he's trying to teach her to swim. I should think she'll be able to swim by the time we come on leave now that we've got the bath here. The bath, by the way,is not supplied officially, it was paid for by a loan, subscribed half by the government and half by parents and friends – a lot of Kenya people have money. The loan will gradually be repaid over a period of years – about 30, I think - out of money paid by the boys in small fees for use of the pool – 10/- a term or something like that. Its cost about £6,000, I believe. Now they are collecting money to build a squash court. The weather has been very tiring, we haven't had very much rain as yet. We had two or three extremely hot, exhausting weeks in March – average temperature nearly 90' in Nairobi and hot dry winds. The grass was like hay and the trees were wilting. Then it broke and we had a heavy storm one night, about a fortnight ago, and quite a lot of rain, then another heavy shower or two some days later, then it seemed to pass away again. Everything freshened up and the grass is now quite green, but people are worried that the rains are going to fail this year (last year we had too much of course).I hope we get some as I want to do some gardening – this is a huge garden and at present there is not very much in it. I have dug up two large beds and they're waiting to be re-planted – I have some seeds in boxes, but I was rather late in sowing them this year. As to flowers (mentioned in your last letter) the only things that really won't grow here are the “spring” flowers – daffodils, tulips etc and some of them will grow up in the hills in the cooler wetter areas. Chrysanthemums will grow, I have a few - but they bloom very near the ground and won't grow long stalks. I don't know why.. I must say it will be nice to see the apple blossom and spring flowers again. Thre is nothing quite as 'dewy looking' here – the flowers tend to be bright red or yellow or orange and rather showy. Roses will grow well if cared for, but they need manure and a good deal of attention and they only bloom for short seasons, whereas most of the annuals go on and on blooming. Flowers do get a bit scarce at the end of the dry season. I had a few rather faded zinnias and one or two odds and ends but nothing worth picking for weeks. We're now hoping for more rain to bring new blooms along. I seem to have 3 letters of yours not answered, which is rather awful, but I've been awfully pleased to receive them. I do look forward to your letters very much... I can quite believe Irene is thin, but I can't imagine Geoffrey being fat – are you sure you're not exaggerating? Irene told me about the basement flat but it didn't sound too bad – in fact, she sounded quite thrilled about it. Are they going to take it? I don't really know what you mean about Gordon 'selling his birthright' – perhaps Irene will tell me about it. It souns rather rash to me, though I don't know.... I wonder if the “Macs” will end up here – I think they would like it. I suppose he has a degree in which case he would be an Education Officer and probably get quite a good salary. There seems to be a shortage of teachers, we have had an awful job getting staff here – we have two women teaching already, Mrs Spencer (who was a teacher before she married) and Mrs Maclennan, who was a Matron, but who has taught French for years as well – she is French, of course. Now there's me – we really are very short-staffed waiting for various specialists. Scientists and mathematicians seem to be particularly scarce. So many people seem to be interested in jobs here, then change their minds and don't want to leave England after all, or go to another Colony. I think quite often the wives don't want to come out here. We have quite a few temporary or only partially qualified people this year, two men had to be transferred here from Primary schools to fill gaps. The Colonial Office seems to do a lot of blundering and putting people off by long delays, etc, making the Education Department and Headmasters here furious. Stan has read “Last chance in Africa”, he borrowed it from somebody, and I glanced through it but didn't read it properly. I must get hold of it and read it again. I'm glad you found it so interesting.. Also I'm glad you saw “No Vultures Fly”. We missed it here, it only came for a week,and we're hoping it may come back again. We heard all about it, of course. They made quite a “do” of the premiere here. We've only been to the pictures once in months and months. That was to see Bette Davis in “All about Eve”, which was good, but not outstanding. Now about Janet – I've already told you what a little pickle she is. Physically she's fine, and so far has not had any set backs. She's grown inches in the last year, and all her clothes have become too small. I have been very busy making her clothes: 2 pairs of viyella pyjamas (one piece with flaps) as her baby nighties are at last finished, a clydella duster-check skirt with blouse and two pairs of knickers. I am going to make another skirt and dress for 'best' (pale yellow clydella which was old stock and I got cheap – 7/90 a yard, wheras the new lot was 13/- - what a difference!) I'm also knitting her a jersey (she is wearing the cardigans a lot now and finding them very useful) She is nearly 3 ft tall now (about 35 ½ “) and weights 30lbs. She is fairly solid in the body still, but her legs have lengthened a lot and got a bit slimmer. She is very cuddlesome and attractive to look at. She's not much trouble now over her pot or sleeping at night, though she wets her beds fairly frequently still. She doesn't wear nappies and has improved since she's had her new pyjamas. She refuses to be woken and “potted”, she cries to get back to bed and is so upset at being woken that I haven't the heart to do it. If I do, ten to one she won't use the pot,and only gets thoroughly wakened up and cross. She is occasionally naughty over her food and spits it out, but generally eats fairly well. She enjoys breakfast and dinner, likes a boiled egg best of all – I give her an egg most days now, either for breakfast or late tea – that all right isn't it? She still won't eat tea at 4.30 or even 5 and prefers her supper at bedtime, after her bath, though this is supposed to be wrong according to all the books. I find difficulty in knowing what to give her for supper or tea. She's tired of 'farex' now and isn't awfully good with cornflakes or porridge either, nor will she eat much bread and butter or sweet things – except chocolate which she loves! She likes meat now, and fish, and relishes chicken and is quite good with vegetables as a rule. She also loves tomato, but she's not very good with puddings. As I said before, she talks fluently, can express almost anything she wants to say – in fact is very good at expressing her wants in a forcible manner. She has just started the saying “No” phase, too, and can be very obstinate. She can be quite infuriating at times – I suppose most children are. I shall be glad when she gets to the next stage, of playing with things properly, at the moment she wants to be doing something active all the time and its difficult to know what to give her to keep her quiet. I resorted to giving her scissors and a big sheet of paper the other day (after much pleading) – they kept her quiet half an hour – you should have seen her intent face, trying to cut! I suppose its rather a risky occupation at two, though. She kept opening her mouth every time she tried to open the scissors! Of course she wants every bottle and jar and tube of toothpaste opened and all my make up things to play with, and all the drawers and cupboards turned out, - demanding “Mummy, open it” or “Mummy, in there?” or “'oos that?” I've told her about 'Granny Katherine' and Granny Stokoe' and all the others and she repeats the names, but I don't think she has much idea of what I'm talking about. Its difficult to explain as no-one here has a Granny. Do make Janet a frock if you'd like to, she can do with plenty of cotton ones as she's grown out of the first ones I made her. I'll measure her tomorrow and give you the measurements at the bottom of this page. I really must stop and go to bed now, its 11o'clock and Stan has fallen asleep on the sofa! I'll try and answer your questionnaire tomorrow, but if I haven't time I'll post this and write again later in the week, when I'm on my own. I know you must be getting anxious and eagerly awaiting a letter. I really must try and write more regularly, I'm always wanting to writ9.30pme! Much love, and thanks for your birthday wishes, I had a nice birthday and several presents this year but its awful to think of the age I've reached – 34! I can't really believe it – I'll soon be middle aged. Lots of love Muriel Stan and Muriel were married in Loughborough on 23 July 1949; they met when he was a student at Loughborough College and she was a secretary in the Principal's office, he had a teaching job in London but was unispired by it so signed up with the Colonial Service for a teaching job abroad. Less than 6 months after the wedding, on January 20th 1950 Stan flew to Kenya to start work as teacher at the Duke of York School in Nairobi. Muriel was pregnant so couldn't join him until after baby Janet, was born - on 9 February 1950. Then after visiting Stan's relatives in County Durham with her new baby, Muriel and Janet sailed to Kenya with the M.V 'Llangibby Castle' on the 8 June 1950. The journey took 4 weeks, leaving from London and calling at Gibraltar, Marseilles, Genoa, Port Said, Suez, Port Sudan, Aden and arriving in Mombasa mid July 1950. The Duke of York School had only been established in 1949 so was not fully up and running when Stan and Muriel arrived. It was a boarding school for British/European boys aged between 12 and 16 whose families were settlers, mostly farmers, who lived many miles away from Nairobi. When they arrived the Stokoe family lived in a flat close to Stan's workshop at the school, until a house/bungalow was built for them in February 1951; their first home. The house was inside the school grounds and was the property of and furnished by the British (colonial) government although they were able to buy some of their own furniture, eg comfy chairs. Stan taught woodwork and handicrafts and was Assistant Housemaster in 'Delamere House' while Muriel got a secretarial job in the school office and Janet was looked after by an 'ayah' called Fatuma. It was a radical change of lifestyle for both of them, having to adjust to the colonial lifestyle - employing African servants to do the cooking, housekeeping and childcare; the heat, dust, rough roads, all manner of insects, tropical diseases and, especially, being separated from family and friends – whom they could only visit every 2-3 years. Although basically the same diet as in England the food in Kenya varied in quality and availability and they found the cost of living surprisingly high. Stan and Muriel worked very hard in their spare time to create a garden, with Janet's 'help', and by the end of 1951 they were proudly had settled into a home with a beautiful garden and a new car! They soon made friends with other families in the school community, and Kenya was a huge and beautiful country with so much to see and do, spectacular countryside, mountains and savannah, wild animals and the beautiful coastline at Mombasa. Stan and Muriel went on their first safari in August 1951, a motor trip round Mount Kenya with their friend Dominic Spencer, leaving Janet in the care of his wife, Peggy, and her three children. Their first trip to Diani Beach, Mombasa was in December 1951, and as in later years they went with friends and shared a \"bunglaow\" right on the edge of the dazzling white sandy beach, washed by the warm Indian ocean. Diani became their annual idyllic holiday destination until they left Kenya 30 years later. (more details are in the 'Holidays at the Coast' stories) Between May and November 1953 the family had to move back to Nairobi temporarily because of the 'Mau Mau' rebellion. This became the basis of Kenya's fight for indepence from British rule but initially it was an uprising by the Kikuyu tribe against the loss of their land to British farmers. The fighting lasted from 1952 to 1956 but the 'state of emergency' was not lifted until 1960. Stan was was recruited into the police reserve and slept with a gun under his pillow – luckily he never had to use it and the family escaped any direct impact from the Mau Mau. In December 1953 Muriel and Janet returned to England for their first 'UK leave' with Stan following in March 1954. Leave was initially six months, later cut to 3 months but taken more regularly. This was their first break from Kenya and a chance to catch up with their friends and relations at home - Muriel's family, now living in Kent, and Stan's family in Durham, and for them to get acquainted with Janet, now nearly 4 years old, and to welcome the arrival of baby Michael, who was born while in England on 18 May 1954. Sadly, Muriel's mother, Minnie, had died early in 1953 so this photo was the only time she met Janet, and she never got see any of her later grandchildren. In 1952 after her husband died, Minnie had moved south from Loughborough to be closer to her sister, Elsie, and they had bought a house together - 20 Cloisters Avenue, Bickley, Bromley, Kent and this is where the family spent their UK visits until Elsie died in 1980. She became a surrogate Grandmother to Muriels children. After Michael was born the family went North to stay with Stan's Mother. Four generations were pictured together with Great Granny Miller at Metal Bridge. They went back south again before returning to Kenya. On 25 September 1954 the family, now 4 of them, sailed back to Kenya again, this time on the “Dunottar Castle” and on arrival in October they moved from Embu to Kisii, about 200 miles west of Nairobi towards Lake Victoria. Kisii was a teacher training college, another new role for Stan. Life carried on on much the same basis as before, making new friends while keeping in touch with existing ones, and living in a mainly British community on the College compound but working with African students. As well as teaching Stan was again involved in many extra curricular activities - drama, sports, college 'Open' days etc; Muriel helped out with the plays by designing and painting sets and making costumes. One of the pictures shows Janet modelling a witch costume Muriel had made, inspiring her love of dressing up. Their free time was spent with the children, friends, in the garden, exploring new places, picnics, swimming etc. It was at Kisii that the family became close friends with the Somervilles, a Scottish family - Bill, Marion and daughter Patricia who was the same age as Janet. In November 1955 the whole family had to fly back to England again for Stan to have an operation to remove a tumour on his spine. Luckily it was benign and he made a full recovery but his Doctor and many of his friends and colleagues in Kenya didn't expect to see him again, they didn't think he would ever walk again. They were in England for 7 months while Stan recuperated, again sharing their time between Muriel's family in Kent and Stan's family in Durham. And there were cousins to get to know - Muriel's sister Irene and her husband Gordon had two children - Paula and Martin aged about 4 and 2. Back in Tursdale County Durham, Janet spent some time at the village school and became very good friends with Shirley Hutchison who lived next door to Stan's mother, and with Pauline Lovatt, who lived over the road in 'School Street'. Their friendship would be revived every time the family came home on leave. The pictures here include friends at Tursdale School, Shirley and Pauline on a trip to Redcar beach, and picnicing at Hadrians Wall and High Force Teesside with Granny and Grandad. Once Stan was fully recovered the family returned to Kenya, back to Kisii, in July 1956. However, after another Christmas holiday at Diani Beach the family packed up and moved again - this time to Kagumo College, Nyeri, which lay in the foothills of Mount Kenya. This time they stayed put for 5 years ...... and is described in another story. I have a vague mental map of the College layout which I have tried to draw (see my hand drawn map!!), showing where my friends’ families lived - its probably wildly out!! Its also quite difficult to describe but here goes: the northernmost area of the college was the main sports field and next to that was the farm. Below that was a row of about 6-8 houses; the Curtises – Arnold and Daphne plus daughters Steph and Jill, and the Cawleys – John and Molly with daughter Jane, lived here – both families moved away early on, to Limuru and Nairobi respectively, but we all kept in touch and visited regularly. I think the Velzians lived here as well. They had a proper full sized trampoline in their garden, which we all loved bouncing on! Dad, John, was the PE teacher and later became the National Coach to Kenya's athletes, starting with Kipchoge Kieno - the first of Kenya's phenomenal medal winning long distance runners. His wife Jo worked as a secretary in the Principal’s office. I remember her for her 'killer heels' and for teaching me to do the ‘Twist’!! They had a son Guy and a much later a daughter Kim. Turning left to go south there were 2 large houses on each side of the road, the Principal on one side and the Rector on the other. I remember Harry Laughton being the Principal, he and his wife had no children so we were not well acquainted. The Rector was Douglas Melhuish, there were 4 children in that family but I really only knew Rosie and Wendy. Douglas was also the vicar at a church in Nyeri where we went to Sunday school. He christened me Mike and Kathy - all 3 of us together when Kathy was about 2 years old and I was about 9. Continuing south from the Principals house there was another sports field opposite which was another row of houses and families (I am not sure of the right order) : - the Penns – Ken and Shona plus their children Caroline, Sarah and James (they also moved away, to Nakuru but we remained friends); the Clarks – Pat and Jane with children Adam and Amanda; the Martins – Ken and Margaret with children Hilary and Dominic; Margaret was famous for her curries, eaten out in the garden and I especially loved all the 'bits and pieces' such as chopped up banana, oranges, onion, tomatoes, grated coconut etc which we sprinkled over the curry; next were the Shanks – Philip and Eileen with children Ben and Lulu (Lyndall); the Jacksons - ? and Nora with their children Moira and Paul. A bit further down the road, in a house on its own, lived Peter King. I was afraid to go to his house as his dog bit me once (not seriously). Our house was also on its own, on the other side of the road from Peter. To the east and behind the staff houses was a wooded area leading to the classrooms and offices, the squash court was here as well. I made lasting friendships at Kagumo, friends I am still in contact with – in particular Rosie Melhuish and Steph Curtis. I even reconnected with Moira Jackson and we met up nearly 60 years on and had a great Kagumo \"When-we\". When the Cutises moved to Limuru I often went to stay; Steph, Jill and I always had fun together. I remember getting wheezy after pillow fights, swimming in the dam, going on long walks with their dogs – 3 Rhodesian Ridgebacks, collecting mushrooms on the golf course early in the morning: the tastiest and juiciest mushrooms ever. We also had midnight feasts and once we tried to melt a 'Sugar Daddy' (a toffee lollipop) over a candle. There were also exchange visits to my house but somehow these were not so memorable. Later Steph went to Limuru Girls School but Rosie Melhuish and I both went to Kenya High which is how we remained friends; I think we were in the same class but different boarding houses (Kenya High has its own story). There were many younger children in the Kagumo community, similar ages to my brother and sister, so they had lots of friends as well. As with any community families come and go and Kagumo was no different. Around 1961 our cousins, the Smithes, came over from England to stay with us – Paula was about 8 and Martin was about 6, their Mum, Irene, was my Mum's sister. I remember them arriving and putting up a tent in our front garden, with their Dad Gordon and their Granny as well (there is a cine of this) – they had had a marathon journey across Europe and from South Africa to Kenya. Gordon and his mother soon went back to England, and Gordon often joined us for holidays at the coast but Irene, Paula and Martin stayed and shared our life in Kagumo for a couple of years; Irene even got a job teaching in a local school. At about the same, a Canadian teacher called Bob Moffat, joined the Kagumo College staff bringing his family with him. The Moffats had 3 children - Janet, Robbie and Cathy who were almost exactly the same ages as me, Mike and Kathy respectively and we all became best friends and enjoyed many holidays and adventures together. Janet and I both went to Nyeri primary and although the family returned to Canada after about 4 years I kept in touch with Janet and visited her in Canada in 2000. Another Canadian family, the Gillespie's, also arrived in Kagumo around 1961/2, just before we left. I was very friendly with Clare and Brenda as they were both pupils at Kenya High School with me. I lost contact with them after we all left Kenya but again recently re-connected through the internet and I visited with Clare in Portugal in 2019. These shared Kenya memories do bring people together!! Although life was full at Kagumo there was a whole other array of things to do both in and around Nyeri. Nyeri Club was an important centre of our social life: some of our Dads, and Mums too, regularly played golf there so we children would get taken along to just run around or play on the swings. Ayahs would come along to keep an eye on the little ones. We were plied with crisps and bottles of coca cola while the grown ups drank beer in the club house. There was always something going on – like film shows: I remember watching Bambi on the day my sister was born! and parties at Christmas, displays of marching bands such as the KAR (Kenyan African Rifles), Scottish Country dancing as well as Kenyan tribal dancers. Picnics were another regular activity and we always went in a group with other families. One favourite spot was the Thego river, the water was freezing cold as its source was high up on Mount Kenya but the hot sun soon warmed us up as we sunbathed on the rocks. I loved to collect the beautiful smooth coloured stones from the shallower water but sadly they dried out in the sunshine to a uniform brown colour. Another favourite was Cave Waterfall up in the Aberdare Mountains: after an early start and a long steep drive up through thick forest, sometimes on muddy roads and driving through fords, we tucked into a picnic breakfast cooked on a calor gas stove. Afterwards we climbed carefully down to the foot of the waterfall, behind which there was a the dark clammy cave from where we watched the wall of water thundering down in front of us. We also went on picnics to the Siremon track in the foothills of Mount Kenya, to animal sanctuaries such as Mrs Kenealey's farm where we rode on a giant tortoise and we often swam in the pool at the Outspan Hotel in Nyeri. Once, after a very heavy rainy season the Sagana River near Nyeri was flooded and Dad took us out in the car to watch the surging torrents of brown water swirling under and over fragile wooden bridges. Often we had to get out and walk while Dad negotiated the car across and of the bridges got washed away just after we had driven over it! We also travelled further afield: apart from visits to friends in Nairobi we went on safari to game parks and almost every year to the Kenya coast which have got their own stories. In 1962 the family went home to the UK on leave and when we came back Dad had got a new posting to Kericho, a promotion to principal at the teacher training college there. As well as moving I started secondary school - as a boarder to Kenya High School in Nairobi, and my brother and sister started at Greensteds in Nakuru. I never went back to Nyeri again. Tall, slim and quietly spoken, his name was Hassan but we always called him 'Hassani'. He was a muslim who came from Mombasa, on the Kenya coast, close to the islands of Zanzibar and Lamu, steeped in a history of Arab/Islamic culture. He came to work for us as a cook while we were at Diani beach on holiday in 1951 then he came back with us to Nairobi and stayed with us for nearly 15 years, becoming more of a family friend than a servant. Hassani spoke proper Swahili but easily understood our attempts at 'kitchen swahili', a sort of pidgin version, and he learned to speak some English as well. He was kind and gentle and we loved him. He left his home and family and moved with us from Nairobi to Kisii, to Nyeri and then Kericho. He was a wonderful cook, I don't know where he learned it but some of his specialities included roast beef and yorkshire pudding, fruit salads, and the most delicious creamy ice cream with chopped up mars bars mixed into it... there seemed to be nothing he couldn't create. He started work at 7 am squeezing fresh orange juice for our breakfast and then taking Mum and Dad tea in bed. In the early days our main meal was at lunch time and Hassani would cook roast dinners, pies, stews, fish dishes and fabulous puddings. Beef was freely available in Kenya but chicken was a special real treat, mainly for Sundays. I remember when I was probably about about 7, watching Hassani kill a chicken; he picked one running around in the back garden and slit its throat, but it still kept running (for a bit). I wasn't squeamish and had no problem eating the chicken afterwards. Fish was usually talapia, fresh from lakes and rivers, except when we were at the coast when we feasted on succulent lobsters (crayfish), prawns and exotic fish of all shapes and colours which Hassani bought from the fishermen who bought baskets of their day's catch to the kitchen door, then cooked to perfection. I loved watching the live blue and gold lobsters flapping round the kitchen floor waving their nippers while Hassani chose the best specimens. Prawns arrived as a seething brown mass in a basket, all wriggling tails and waving antennae. Handfuls were scooped out onto the scales then quickly thrown into a pan of boiling water, they were so tasty!!! Lobsters met the same fate and were tender and delicious, just served with salad and Hassani's home made mayonnaise. He also made delicious fresh lime juice as limes were plentiful at the coast. When we collected shells from our goggling trips to the reef, Hassani would clean them for us by skillfully removing with a knife whatever slimy or crabby object lived inside, this meant we could keep them and they never got smelly. Hassani would go home to visit his family when we went back to Mombasa on holiday but then he came home with us. When we went on camping safaris Hassani came with us to cook. Hassani lived in the servants quarters (boys quarters), within the garden area wherever we lived. These were very basic stone built rooms, pretty small, and most of the cooking was done outside. Hassani was also responsible for some shopping; he supplemented our visits to the Duka in town by buying produce from men and women who regularly called at our kitchen door selling their wares in huge woven baskets, he would select the best produce and barter for the best price. This is how we bought eggs, making sure they would float in water so we knew they were fresh, vegetables and fruit, chicken and fish. Doorstep sellers also brought carved wooden and stoneware animals, shells and decorative woven baskets; Hassani always helped us get the best deal. Although he was a cook Hassani also did a bit of housework but he didn't do laundry or childcare as this was the job of our ayah - of which we had two. My ayah was called Fatuma and she looked after me at Duke of York School. After Mike and Kathy were born, they were looked after by Mukeria who started working for us in Kisii then came to Nyeri with us as well. Mukeria laughed a lot but looked quite scary as her front teeth had been sharpened to a point. She got on well with Hassani! Kathy as the youngest had the closest relationship with Mukeria who taught her to speak Swahili. She eventually left the family when we all went to boarding school in 1963. We often empoyed a gardener or shamba boy, especially in the early days and 1969/70 in Kericho we even had a \"syce\" to help look after two horses which Kathy had borrowed. At that time we also had a young lad called Johanna working as a house boy and he taught Mike how to shoot pigeons with his shotgun; Johanna was a much better shot than Mike. I don't think Mum or Dad were very comfortable with the idea of having domestic servants when they first arrived in Kenya in 1950, neither of them had any previous experience of this lifestyle, but they soon realised that it was normal practice and that the Africans relied on the income this employment provided to support their families. Dad paid the school fees for Hassani's eldest son Kassim and they kept in touch after Dad left Kenya. Wendy had a similar experience when she went to Kenya in the 70s - every day prospective cooks and house-girls lined up at her back door begging for employment, until she finally gave in and took someone on. Hassani became quite unhappy when we moved to kericho in 1962, maybe he had been away from his family for too long; the local tribes people, the Kipsigis, had a very different culture from those in Nairobi and Nyeri, maybe he was just getting old. He even got two dogs to keep him company - named Kipper and Kifaru, they were labrador/alsatian cross and were very lively. He started drinking and eventually in about 1968/69 he decided to return home to the coast where he re-married and had more children. He didn't go back to work again as a cook. He remained in touch though and came to visit when we were on holiday at Diani. After Hassani had died, Dad and Wendy went to visit with his son Kassim. Between 1956 and 1962 the Stokoe family: Stan and Muriel with their children Janet, Michael and Katherine, lived at Kagumo; a teacher training college about 3 miles from the town of Nyeri, in central Kenya, Along with other staff members they lived within the college 'compound', or campus, in houses that were built by the British government along with the classrooms, student accommodation, offices and sports facilities etc. Mount Kenya was an omni-present feature of the Nyeri landscape, as were the Aberdare Mountains. The countryside was lush and fertile and the climate hot and sunny, without being humid. Home and Family I have very happy memories of my childhood at Kagumo College where Dad and Mum both worked: Dad taught woodwork and PE, while Mum taught Art and both were involved in supervising their students' teaching practice. I started school at Nyeri Primary soon after we arrived at Kagumo but my little brother, Mike, was too young to go to school and baby sister, Kathy, hadn't arrived. She was actually born at Nyeri hospital in 1957. Although they varied in size all the staff houses were built to the same basic design as other schools and colleges: bungalows of local stone, with red tiled rooves, a verandah and garden and pre-equipped with a set of standard 'PWD' (public works dept) furniture. A network of dirt roads and bushy hedges completed the layout. We lived in a large 3 bedroom bungalow surrounded by garden. To the front was a circular driveway with a flower bed in the middle and plenty of room to park KAF29 - our trusty Standard Vanguard which Dad had bought at while at Duke of York School and which served us well for nearly 20 years. (see cine film in story 3) To the rear was a huge lawned area with trees, flower beds, a vegetable garden and a stunning view across to the Aberdare Mountains. The hedge at the furthest end of our garden marked the border between the College compound and the “Reserve” - ie land reserved for African villages, their cattle and smallholdings. We weren’t supposed to go into the ‘Reserve’ but occasionally we ventured out, only to be chased back by the village ‘totos’ (children) who quite rightly, thought we were trespassing; after all they weren't allowed into our college compound. A dog called Angus completed our family, he was a dachshund but much too big for his breed due some Alsatian genes in his family history; we all loved him, apart from when he came home covered with ticks. These ugly fat blobs, full of Angus's blood, had to be removed without the head being left behind in Angus's flesh; Dad was responsible for tick removal and he ceremonially set fire to their remains in his ashray. As with Dad's previous posts we had servants to look after us and they lived in small brick houses built within the garden behind our house known as 'Boys Quarters'. We brought our wonderful cook, Hassani, with us from Kisii as well as our 'ayah' Mukeria. Hassani has his own story in the \"Stokoe family\" section of this website because he did really feel like one of the family. Mukeria helped with the housework and looked after the children - first Mike but mainly Kathy who became very attached to her. Hassani cooked delicious meals, mostly lunches because that's when we ate our main meal. He also kept chickens, which we sometime ate, and haggled over the purchase of fresh vegetables and eggs which were brought to the kitchen door by a Kikuyu lady called Wanjuki, who went from house to house with her baskets of wares. (see cine film) Hassani showed us how to tell if eggs were fresh by carefully lowering them into a bowl of water – if they floated they were bad! I always felt safe roaming around Kagumo within the enclosed perimeter of the college compound, there were hardly any cars and they couldn’t drive fast as the roads were ‘murram’ - very rough and bumpy, and either dry and dusty in the dry season or slippery with mud in the wet season. We children ran around bare foot or in flip flops, developing hard callouses but also attracting ‘jiggers', little bugs which burrowed in and laid eggs in your toes and which Hassani carefully cut out with a razor blade, another of his many talents. Another 'dudu' (insect) that I vividly remember was 'siafu': these were safari ants which could give you a nasty nip if you walked across a column of them, allowing one or more to climb up your legs. The larger ones had huge nippers and also had to be removed carefully avoiding detaching head from body, again usually by Hassani. Armies of safari ants would devour anything in their path and had to be kept out of the house. In the kitchen the food safe and fridge were on raised legs which were placed inside small tins filled with paraffin to keep the ants away. Sometimes Hassani poured paraffin across the door step to divert the siafu. Caterpillars were another challenge; a huge Pepper tree in our garden was a favourite to climb and we pretended the branches were different countries of the world. It was also home to large yellow and black 'hairy' caterpillars which we knocked to the ground with a stick, but if you happened to brush against their soft hairs you would get a nasty rash. Despite all these and other nasties we survived our childhood relatively unscathed, especially considering we spent most of our time outside. When I was younger I used to enjoy making mud pies in the flower beds: with drops of water I created little round balls of mud, rolled them in my hand then dipped them into soft dry soil to help them to dry out. They could also be flattened and decorated with little sparkly stones or small flowers and petals. Flowers were also great material for making little fairy people – the white and yellow frangipani, lilac blue jacaranda and bright red Nandi flame flowers made lovely dresses into the top of which I would stick smaller flowers like the fluffy yellow mimosa or seed pods to create a head. There were lots of children at Kagumo, most of Dad's colleagues had one or more children matching us in age range so we were never short of company and even allowing for time spent at school we got up to all sorts of mischief. One of the most fun things we did was 'dressing up': Mum kept a special trunk of clothes, shoes and hats to which we could help ourselves. We would also make hats out of flowers and regularly walked around the college in our costumes. We had the run of our own and each other's gardens, sometimes even sneaking into the gardens of those who had no children and helping ourselves to fruit and veg. I clearly remember trying to eat a red chilli – in agony I ran home and rubbed my lips with ice cubes without realising I was spreading the the 'fire' across my face rather than relieving it. We had great fun in the paddling pool in our garden (see cine film) enjoying the sunshine. There were many other places around the college where we could entertain ourselves. After a tractor had cut the grass on one of the sports fields we came along and scraped the cut grass into nest shapes where a whole game of 'families' could take place. In the rainy season we would play in the drainage ditches at the side of the road, testing the water depth with our wellies, seeing how deep we could go without letting the water spill over the top. My brother, Mike, was always getting into trouble for falling in and getting soaked; I would take him home like a drowned rat for a change of clothes where he would be told off for creating so much washing. The College also had a farm where we could 'help' milk the cows and watch the pigs rolling round in their smelly straw. A huge barn piled high with straw bales was another place where we would climb around and play hide and seek. If there were no grown ups playing we would run around or play ball inside the squash court: it was an open air court so we could walk all the way round on top of the wall, accessed from the wooden viewing platform. Quite dangerous but exciting! I never saw anyone fall off though. When the College had its Sports Day we would all go and watch the students competing and our parents officiating. There was always prize giving by lady in a posh frock and then tea. On College Open Days all the classrooms were opened to display the students work and arts and crafts. One year the students built a tree house in a very tall gum tree, with a rope ladder to climb up and 'death slide' to the ground, they supervised all us children to have a go safely. When the college was closed for holidays we could roller skate up and down the open walkways outside the classrooms. Nyeri was where we went to school: my friends and I, and my little brother, all went to Nyeri Primary, about 3 miles from Kagumo, often getting a lift there in the college truck or minibus. Uniform was green gingham dresses for the girls and green shirts with khaki shorts for the boys. There were 3 'Houses' – Leopard (blue) Lion (yellow) and Cheetah (red). In my last year there (1961) I became a boarder, at my own request - because I wanted to be part of the 'in crowd', boarders seemed to have a lot more fun and made closer friendships. Unfortunately it meant my brother, Mike, had to be a boarder too and he hated it, so much so that he ran away once. The Matron Mrs Montgomery used to call all the boys by girls names - but I don't think thats why Mike hated it, he was only 7 and missed home. I enjoyed school on the whole, I was academically average but terrified of 'round the class' mental arithmetic tests. I was also useless at games / sports, the obstacle race was my ‘nadir’. (cine film of me doing it) It was at Nyeri Primary that I met my friend Heather ‘Andi’ Anderson, a friendship that continued at Kenya High School and later via the internet. While living in Nyeri, in the shadow of Mount Kenya - Stan, and some of his Kagumo College colleagues, decided to climb it. All 17,000 feet of it. Quite an adventure! He went with Ken Penn, Pat Clarke and Philip Shanks but without a guide. It took them 3 or 4 days. I have selected 10 photos to give an impression of what it was like. They arrived home on a Sunday afternoon, a bit dirty and dishevelled, but apparently just in time for one of Margaret Martin's famous curry lunch parties. Jan and Mike swimming and boating at Kerenga dam, with Stan and Kathy in about 1965 (1.11 mins) The largest ex-pat / European community in Kericho were mostly managers of the numerous tea estates surrounding the town, plus their families. In the 60s almost all the Tea Estate Managers were white and employed either by Brook Bond or the African Highlands Tea Company. Most of my peer group lived on tea estates, they went to school in the UK and came out to Kericho in the holidays. One or two tea estate managers had their own private swimming pool – like the Dickinson-Chethams, who sometimes held Sunday pool/lunch parties. Our social hub was the Sailing Club at Kerenga Dam (on one of the tea estates). We hung out there most Sundays, not actually sailing but water ski-ing; we being Edward, James and Bizzy Pickford, Vicky and John Turtle, Linda Bell and her sister and Vicky Hainsworth (who I was totally in awe of because she was a pupil at Harrogate Ladies College and we only saw her in the summer holiday) I learned to water ski at about 14 and got quite good – I could even do slalom! Sometimes there were fun competitions, usually organised by Peter Freeman – the main man, boat driver and ski teacher (his Mum was my PE teacher at Kenya High), and if you couldn't use skis you could 'ski' on a large flat board, about the size and shape of a door, it could fit two people on it. A picnic at Kerenga dam in about 1965 with our friends the Butterworths My brother Mike also learned to ski but he found the water a bit too cold and often preferred to mess about on the edge of the dam with a small paddle boat. Kathy wasn't keen on the water either alhough she did come on the board with me a few times. She and her friend Dawn (Prophet) mostly played with their dolls . Mum and Dad either dropped us off or sat around chatting to other parents watching their children, there was also a bar and we usually took a picnic lunch. Occasionally on a Saturday night the Sailing Club hosted disco dances with Peter Freeman doubling up as the DJ. At Kerenga dam again , a year or so later. Kathy and her friend Dawn Prophet are playing with their dolls, Jan is taking part in a fun ski-ing competition, Mike is watching. another Sunday hanging out at Kerenga Dam, with Jane Cawley visiting. Jan and Mike are both ski-ing and Jan takes Kathy for a ride on the \"Board\" (2.03 min). At the end there is a short bit of Mike, Jane and Shirley cutting wood at back of our house Kerenga dam wasn't very nice for swimming, the dark brown water was cold and very muddy underfoot, we prefered to actually swim at the Tea Hotel in Kericho town, only a short distance from our house. After 1970 and with my baby son Nick we continued to visit Kericho and spend time at Kerenga dam or swimming at the Tea Hotel Introduction Sometime in 1962 the Stokoes moved to Kericho, a small town in the tea growing 'Highlands' area of Kenya. After leaving Kagumo the family were on leave in the UK when Muriel was taken ill with a nervous breakdown and remained in hospital in the north of England. Stan went back to Kenya on his own with the children, initially to a posting at Kabianga College, just outside Kericho. Janet was already boarding at Kenya High School in Nairobi and on return to Kenya both Mike and Kathy started as boarders at Greensteds Primary School in Nakuru. After about 18 months at Kabianga Stan was promoted and moved as Principal to Kericho Teachers College where he worked for nearly 10 years. I don't remember much about Kabianga, I am not even sure if it was a school or a college, apart from a slimy swimming pool and muddy roads. We weren’t on mains electricity so had a generator to light us up at night and it always went off at 10.00pm so we either had to go to bed or sit by the dim glow of a Tilly lamp. We brought our dog, Angus, from Kagumo as well as our cook and ayah - Hassani and Mukeria. The first person we met was Roy Butterworth who was already on the staff at Kabianga and we became firm family friends, with him, his wife Doreen, and their children Shirley and later Peter, who was born after they moved into Kericho. It was about 3 miles from Kabianga to Kericho, where we did our shopping and went to the golf club, there was no tarmac and the rough dusty road disintegrated into thick, sticky mud whenever it rained: as Dad struggled to steer in a straight line and the car slid from side to side I was always terrified we'd end up in the ditch. Sometimes we did just that - and had to be pushed back onto the road by some passing watu (Africans) - ever helpful, laughing and waving as the car lurched forward spraying them with mud from the wheels as we went on our way. Kabianga college had a swimming pool – an unusual luxury, but we never swam in it, there was only ever a few inches of greenish water covering the bottom - barely enough for a paddle. Mike used to play football in the pool with Roy Butterworth and baby Shirley. Our house there was also unusual as it had wood cladding, painted blue and white, and as always we had a large and colourful garden. Kathy had her 5th birthday here and I think Mum joined us just before we left. Our house and garden at Kabianga including Kathy's 5th birthday party - attended by Caroline an Sarah Penn, Shirley Butterworth, Linda and Jennifer Hogg and some others. Also featuring Angus. Ken and Shona Penn driving away. Playing in the slimy swimming pool with the Butterworths. Having a bonfire, maybe in preparation for moving, then waiting for the furniture to be loaded and moved (not sure if it was us or the Butterworths who were moving). finally a few shots of our new home in Kericho including the garden, the derelict wooden house and a cat we acquired. I was glad when we moved into Kericho town, it seemed much more civilised and there was more of a social life for me as a teenager, even though I was at boarding school so only spent my holidays there - the same was true for Mike and Kathy. The set up at Kericho College was very similar to Kagumo: a college campus with the same style of brick buildings for both staff and students. The bungalow we lived in was almost exactly the same as our Kagumo one but with an extra bedroom. As well as the boys quarters there was a rather strange semi derelict wooden house in the garden, it might once have been a guest house; Dad used it as a workshop for building canoes and sailing boats. The large hedge-protected garden was also similar to Kagumo but without the views of the Aberdare Mountains or Mount Kenya. The college was also less 'fenced in', there was no reserve and we could walk into and through neighbouring properties. We had an enormous avocado pear tree in the new garden but sadly none of us liked them so most of the time they rotted on the ground - what a waste! Although Hassani and Mukeria came with us to Kericho neither stayed for very long: Mukeria wasn't really needed once we were all away at boarding school and Hassani started to feel homesick for his home near Mombasa. Stokoe garden again in 1967, Kathy and Mike are dressing up and dancing around with friends Dawn Prophet and Jane Cawley (1.27 min) Kericho was located in the 'Highlands', an area on the western flank of the Rift Valley, close to Lake Victoria and Kisumu in the west, but further from Nairobi than Nyeri. It was also the centre of Kenya's tea growing industry. Kenya became an independent nation while we were in Kericho – in 1963, and the following year it became a republic with Jomo Kenyatta as President. 1967 Building a 'Mirror Dinghy' in our garden with the help of Roy Butterworth and Ernie Dunford. In the background you can see the \"shed\" / small house in our garden (43 secs) As a result there were a greater number of non British and Kenyan members of staff at Kericho College. Dad's Deputy was Washington Ombito, a friendly and larger than life character with a taste for brandy: he loved that Dad always offered him a glass of “Cwavwasier” brandy but, because he drank it liberally and diluted it with ginger ale, Dad kept some cheaper “Three Barrels” in a Courvoisier bottle especially for Washington's visits but I don't think he noticed. As well as the Butterworths, other members of staff I remember were Ernie Dunford and his family, the Daleys – Dolf and Audrey who had 4 children, and Father Curry - an Irish priest who suffered with recurrent malaria and drank quinine by the bottle to keep it at bay. Our garden in Kericho about 1966. Hassani's puppys - Kipper and Kifaru, are playing with the Butterworths two young children Shirley and Peter. Stan is watching along with parents Roy and Doreen. Includes a shot of Peter's bare bum as the dog pulls his nappy off! (1.41 min) Being at a high altitude Kericho's climate was very temperate and we had rain most afternoons, often heavy with thunder and hail, which could destroy the delicate leaves on the top of the tea bushes – these were the ones picked to make tea. An American company called Atmospherics Incorporated arrived with rescue technology: they employed two pilots – Gary Darrigo and Bill Carley, who flew a small plane just below the rain clouds spraying a chemical which broke up the hail stones so protecting the tea crop from damage. They became our good friends too and we even had the odd joy ride in their little plane which was fantastic fun. I remember the first time I saw Kericho from the air - stunning. As with Nyeri much of our social life focussed around the golf club; Dad played golf most days and also enjoyed amateur dramatics (see Stan the Thesp story), taking the starring role in many productions. Mum didn't play much golf or take a role in any plays but she used her talent to paint the sets, make costumes and do the stage make up. There was a small library in the club and we could borrow books once a week; I remember a story about one of the volunteer librarians, a bit of a 'busybody' ...... she asked Dad for his name ….. rather facetious as everyone knew my Dad !! “Farnsbarns with two small ffs” was his equally facetious reply (When my baby son was born his nickname for the first few months was Farnsbarns ... shortened to \"Farney\"). There were dances at the club and I went to my first disco there, in about 1964 or 5 – catching up with the 60s scene in England we were getting “with it”! Our house and garden at Kabianga including Kathy's 5th birthday party - attended by Caroline an Sarah Penn, Shirley Butterworth, Linda and Jennifer Hogg and some others. Also featuring Angus. Ken and Shona Penn driving away. Playing in the slimy swimming pool with the Butterworths. Having a bonfire, maybe in preparation for moving, then waiting for the furniture to be loaded and moved (not sure if it was us or the Butterworths who were moving). finally a few shots of our new home in Kericho including the garden, the derelict wooden house and a cat we acquired. Outside of College our family friends included the Prophets, who lived next door to the college – Mum and Dad - June and Derek, their children Dawn, Graham and baby sister Heather. Next door to them the Pickfords: Mum Joyce was the Matron at the local hospital and her three children, Edward, James and Bizzy, were away at school but home every holiday. From there we could walk to the Tea Hotel and use their swimming pool. Annual holidays at the coast continued from Kericho as did our safaris and still we returned to the UK every 2 years for a 3 month leave period to visit relations. During school term time we all had 'exeats' or days out from school, either spent in Nairobi, or sometimes Nakuru, going to the cinema, shopping, horse and motor racing, restaurants and visiting friends. We kept in close touch with the families we had made friends with at Kagumo, in particular the Curtises, the Cawleys and Kings - who now lived in Nairobi, and the Penns who lived in Nakuru. We went to the Nairobi Show, and the Nakuru show mainly to watch Kathy riding. We - especially Mike, enjoyed watching the East African Safari Rally as the drivers hurtled through a check point or stretch of road near where we lived. Other favourites were the Nairobi Animal Orphanage, the museum and the snake park. I continued at Kenya High School until 1968 while Kathy stayed at Greensteds but Mike moved to the Duke of York / Lenana secondary school in Nairobi in 1966. Only Dad remained in Kericho after 1969 although we did go back there on holidays until about 1973/4 when he moved to Machakos. Its still dark. A long journey requires an early start and we have about 350 miles to travel. Mike, Kathy and I pile into the car, still half asleep while Dad steels himself for the long drive and Mum frets about what she has forgotten to pack. But she has stocked up with drinks and sweets. And travel pills for Mike. We are all really excited to be going on holiday but dreading the boredom of a 10 hour journey; we pass the time playing car registration cricket – each person picks a letter of the alphabet and counts how many times they see that letter on the number plates of cars coming towards you, each sighting is one 'run'. No one is allowed to choose the letter 'K' because every single Kenya car has K at the start of its registration. We sing as well, “She'll be coming round the Mountain” is one of our favourites and Kathy treats us to some of the songs she has learned at school like “Pretty Percy Perky is the name of my Turkey”. Holidays at the coast were always spent at Diani Beach and always with one or more other families - Cawleys, Westwells and later on Smithes and Moffats. When we first started going, in the 1950s, not many of the roads weres tarmac; most were 'murram' - bumpy, dusty and slippery when wet, with punctures a regular hazard. Families would travel in convoy to help each other through punctures, breakdown or mud. We usually went at Christmas, the dry season, but that didn't guarantee a mud free journey and the pot holes and dust could be just as bad. When it did rain, it was often a tropical thunder storm turning the road to a sea of mud, a car's worst enemy, causing it to slide from side to side, or slither to a halt in the ditch. We'd all have to get out and push, getting covered in a sticky red coating of mud. If there were any local 'Watu' walking along the road they would always stop and help. When we children were small, we were sometimes packed off on the train from Nairobi to Mombasa with our Mums, while the men tackled the hazardous road journey alone. The train journey was actually quite luxurious: we boarded the sleeper at about 6pm and were then served dinner as the train crossed the Nairobi game reserve, chugging past herds of zebra and impala punctuated by the odd lion or rhino, while the steward prepared the cabins for bed. After breakfast we were met at Mombasa station by the menfolk, tired and dusty, to drive us the final 20 miles to Diani. In the 1960s the journey from Kericho is less fraught; downhill to Nakuru and then a long steep climb up the Rift Valley escarpment to Nairobi. This can be painfully slow if you get stuck behind a bus. Overtake carefully, it's a long way down! Apart from loo breaks, usually taken behind a bush at the side of the road, Dad won't want to stop until we get well past Nairobi; in fact we usually have to wait till we get to Tsavo Inn for a proper break. By then we have broken the back of the journey can start looking out for 'game' as the road takes us between the Tsavo National Parks (East and West). Anticipation grows as we cross the Makupa Causeway onto Mombasa Island, drive through Mombasa the town, under those huge elephant tusks straddling the main street, and then down to the Likoni ferry to cross back onto the mainland, south of Mombasa. There is always a long wait to get the car onto the ferry but it gives us time to stretch our legs and breathe in the salty sea air. In fact we can board the ferry as foot passengers and climb back into the car on the other side. The last 20 miles of the journey to Diani sometimes seem the longest, driving parallel to the coastline through a wooded area along an even bumpier dirt road, you can't even see or smell the sea, not until the final turn towards our holiday bungalow. At last I can jump out of the car, inhale that fragrant Diani air and feel the soft white sand between my toes, it makes the whole journey worthwhile. The bungalows at Diani were right on the beach, a whitewashed brick structure with a corrugated or 'Makuti' palm roof and a large verandah. The windows had mesh panels to keep the mozzies out - not very efficiently as we still had to sleep under a mosquito net and Hassani would spray all the rooms with 'flit' before we went to bed. I don't remember ever being worried about burglers and it was always warm so we didn't need more than a sheet on the bed; we spent most of the day time on our verandah or on the beach. Hassani was our cook, he came to work for us in 1952 during our first holiday at the coast and always came back there with us so that he could visit his family who lived near Diani Beach. Our bungalows didn't have a bath and the toilet was a 'long drop' in a thatched hut down the garden; pretty scary if you needed to go at night - creeping along a narrow path with a tilly lamp or a torch to the accompaniment of the typical sounds of an African night, mainly cicada beetles and monkeys. To avoid too many toilet trips it is wise to go easy on all that fresh fruit for the first few days until your stomach adjusts to this healthy diet!! Hot water was only available in the evenings after Hassani had lit a fire under the water heater – this was large 50 gallon 'debe' (metal barrel) full of rather brackish fresh water balanced on a brick frame over a fire pit. Fresh water was limited and we couldn't drink it until it had been boiled and filtered. The lack of facilities were more than compensated for by being in food heaven – plentiful fresh fruit, mango, paw paw, bananas, oranges, limes, coconut; copious amounts of fresh fish, including prawns and lobster – all brought to the door daily by the local fisherman, and cooked to perfection by Hassani. What we couldn't buy at the door could be purchased at the 'duka' in Ukunu Village a few miles away Our daily routine in Diani varied only with the tide as the weather was consistently hot, dry and sunny, but not humid. We started the day with an early morning swim, more fun when the tide was high and we could jump the waves and belly surf up the beach. Breakfast began with a mango, eaten on the verandah steps - they are best eaten outside so that the juice can run down your arms without making too much mess and you can rinse the stickiness off in the sea. We weren't usually allowed out in the fierce equatorial sun between 10 am and 4 pm, so we would play on the shaded area of beach, under the trees, or on the verandah. These rules were relaxed when it was a mid morning low tide, as this was the best time to visit the reef, kitted out in wide brimmed hats, T shirts, tackies and coated in sun cream (I can still remember the smell and stickiness of 'Rayfilta jelly' and the smell of 'Skol' lotion). We would part swim, part walk out to the inner reef, or if it was deep water on a spring tide we might hire an 'nglau' (wooden dug out canoe) and ask a local fishermen to give us a lift. Tackies (plimsoles) were essential to protect your feet when walking on the coral reef, especially to prevent sea urchin spines sticking into your heels when you brushed too close to one. Goggles and snorkel were also required or you might miss seeing the myriad of brightly coloured fish flashing in an out of the rocks and weed beds around the reef. Floating your goggles on the surface of a rock pool was an effective way of magnifying the sea life lurking below. There was also a safety element to seeing clearly what was in the water – as well as sea urchins we were afraid of treading on stone fish, which might be buried under the sand waiting to deliver a serious electric shock. We also had to look out for the blue bubble of the Portuguese Man of War, or at least its long tail, which will also deliver a nasty sting. We collected 'millions' of shells – large and small, in an infinite variety of shapes and colours. If we were lucky they were already unoccupied but if some creature was still in residence, usually the case in larger shells, we would take them back to shore for Hassani to despatch the occupant in his own special way. Back then there were no issues with damaging the environment by taking shells. We bought them from fishermen as well, usually larger and more exotic ones collected from the outer reef and beyond. As we got older and became stronger swimmers, we went to the outer reef as well – but never beyond it as there stood the open water of the Indian Ocean and many dangers. You could only go there on deep sea fishing trips which were expensive. The outer reef was only exposed at a spring ie very low tide but the water around it was always very deep, and better for snorkeling. After lunch and a rest, out of the sun, we would go swimming again as the tide came in, often waiting for the second high tide of the day, especially a spring tide, when we spent hours 'surfing'. Not the 'standing up' variety: we had small, flat wooden belly boards with which you could catch a breaking wave and fly right up the beach on your tummy. You could also surf without a board but the salty water got up your nose and made your eyes sore, your elbows and knees got scraped on the sand and you risked losing your cozzy in the surf. As the daily tide times changed we had to alter our routine and sometimes missed out on the surfing as it the danger of sunburn was greater when swimming in the midday high tide. Time for a quick shower and change at about 5 o'clock; the water might be hot but there is not much to go around, just enough to rinse the salt off your skin and out of your hair, then a cup of tea and maybe some cake, and a coating of calamine lotion to ease any sun burn – usually on noses. At sunset - it would be dark by 7.30pm - the whole gang of us took a stroll along the beach before dinner. On a spring high tide there was hardly any beach to walk on but as the tide receded the sand was left in pristine condition, nice and firm to walk on. I learned that you could tell if you were flat footed by looking at your footprints in the sand. This was also is the best time to collect tiny coloured shells washed up on the high tide mark, pink butterfly clams, strawberries, brown cone shapes and flat white 'fossils', and bits of drift wood. On an ebbing tide the beach was invaded by tiny white crabs which scuttled in and out of the sea. We often walked to one of the 3 hotels on that stretch of beach – Trade Winds, Two Fishes or Jardini - for a quick drink; they sometimes had discos at the Jardini Hotel in the 60's, it was a very cool place to go!! Back then it was even safe to walk back along the beach in the dark. It is difficult to describe the beauty of Diani beach, unless you have been there, especially in its unspoiled state. The brilliant, dazzling, white sand, which hurt your eyes the bright sunshine, stretched for about 5 miles and it was rare to see anyone walking along it, especially in the mid day heat. Only a few fish, shell or basket sellers peddling or walking between customers. The Indian Ocean is warm and inviting and the reef ensures safe swimming. Close to the waterline the sand is usually firm to walk on but further up, below the tree line, it is soft, like white flour. It is mostly shady here below the coconut palms and casurina trees which separate the beach from the tough scrubby grass of the 'garden' surrounding the bungalow. The casurinas were home to the cicada beetles which chirped loudly all night and their spiky seed pods are very prickly to walk on. The smell of the sand is clean and salty, with a hint of seaweed. The colour of the sea is determined by the sand; in the shallow sandy area it is clear emerald green and its safe to put your feet down when swimming; further out as it gets deeper weed beds and rocky chunks of coral lurk beneath the water making it look midnight blue, and if you stand here be careful not to tread on sea slugs, sea urchins, star fish etc. However, this is the most interesting place for snorkelling and there is such a lot to see. Walking on Diani sand is like health spa for your feet, by the end of two weeks all the hard skin acquired from running around barefoot or in flip flops will have disappeared. Diani sand is also wonderful to play in, to make sandcastles and get buried in. Sometimes a cocunut would fall off the tree, and sometimes we had to send someone up to knock one down. Hassani would cut them open with a panga so we could eat the sweet flesh. I still love the taste of coconut water. In the 60s our cousins, the Smithes came with us to the coast - Paula and Martin, Auntie Irene and Uncle Gordon (if he was visiting from England) although he didn't much care for sunbathing or swimming in the sea!. Our friends the Moffats came too. They were Canadian and lived in Nyeri for about 3 years in the early 60s. We bought a catermeran with the Moffats and had great fun sailing it, Dad also made a canoe and a 'Mirror dinghy' sailing boat. Diani was a safe place for sailing as long as we didn't go beyond the outer reef. The Coast was our Stokoe family holiday destination every year from 1951 until 1968. Even after Kathy, Mike and I left Kenya in 1969, we went back for several holidays in the 1970s. The last holiday I spent there was with my husband, Colin and son Nick in 1981, but we only stayed for a few days. On holiday with our friends the Cawleys, daughter Jane was just a baby and being looked after by Mukeria Dan Trench from Jadini Hotel landing a sailfish after a deep sea fishing trip ie beyond the reef (4 min) 4.52 mins The canoe was built by Stan; rare footage of Muriel; surfing; buying shells and coral on the beach; going to the inner reef at low tide; views of the beach bungalows from the reef; more surfing; queing up at Likoni ferry to go home via Mombasa with the Moffats - Janet, Robbie and Cathy with their Mum and Dad (Margaret and Bob) at Diani Beach 5.09 mins - More coast holidays, still at Diani Beach and spending some time with the Penns and their children - Caroline, Sarah and baby James, Feeding monkeys behind the bungalow Another of Stans projects - a Mirror dinghy which was constructed in the garden at Kericho then shipped to Mombasa for sailing. With Paula and Martin and Irene, With the Velzians, Kathy Guy and Richard playing quoits, Jan and Kim, in sea on dingy, Jan, Stan with baby Nick, All 3 of us at shell stall, swimming, more quoits. Nick in sea and paddling pool We regularly went on safari and saw the best of Kenya's wildlife. From Nyeri we mostly visited the Northern Frontier Province, based around Isiolo (now part of Samburu Game Park) but we also went to Tsavo, Nairobi Game Park, the Masai Mara and Amboseli. Mum and Dad went to Murchison Falls in Uganda with the Cawleys when we were all away at school later in the 60s. At Isiolo in the early days we stayed in a camp on the Uaso Nyiro river which consisted of a few 'Bandas' – mud huts with straw roofs and very basic facilities. We slept on camp beds and ate on the verandah while the cooking was done outside. We had to take all our own food and Hassani came with us to cook (other families brought their own cooks as well). We always went with friends which was fun; these included the Sommervilles, Cawleys, Moffats plus our cousins the Smithes. We would often wake up to find evidence that elephants had been in our camp while we slept; sleep would be disturbed by many animal sounds such as lions grunting but the smaller animals such as rock hyrax were often the noisiest. We were always up early: to be sure of seeing any animals we had to be on the road by 6am for a long drive round the park 'game spotting' before returning to the camp for breakfast. The same routine each evening as the sun went down as most animals sleep during the heat of the day. Sometimes we would hire an Askari or guide to help us track down elusive lions or rhinos. They were usually local tribesmen who knew where to look and had excellent eyesight. As well as copious numbers of antelope, zebra, giraffe, monkeys and baboons, we regularly saw lion, cheetah, even a shy leopard, elephant by the score, rhino, buffalo, hippo, crocodile and more. From the top of a local landmark called Archers Post we would scan the park with binoculars and spot where the herds of elephants were heading, where the lions or rhino might be, then drive to the spot. The roads were very rough, a series of dusty switch backs full of pot holes and criss-crossed with dry riverbeds and sandy gullies, sometimes everyone except the driver had to get out of the car to avoid it grounding, or to push it out of the sand. Dad drove as close to the animals as he dared, even closer if we had an Askari in the car, taking his advice as to when to make a hasty retreat. You could get quite close if the wind was blowing your scent away from the animal. Mum would bravely walk towards animals with her cine camera. I remember being terrified when she was filming a rhino and kept begging her to get back in the car. In the afternoons when it was scorching hot, Buffalo Springs was the place to be, this was an underground spring which had been blasted out by the army to create a clear deep pool which was perfect for swimming. No danger from game here, only the odd camel. While living at Kericho, Tsavo was a convenient place to stop on the way to the coast, sometimes we stayed the night at one of the park lodges. After driving round game spotting we would sit on the verandah having a lunch time or evening drink and watching the animals coming up to the water hole - a very civilised way to see them. Mzima Springs, in Tsavo, was another wonderful place where there was a viewing room built under the water, where we watched thousands of talapia (fish) darted back and forth; if you were lucky you might even see a hippo swim by although mostly you saw them above the water line - dozens of nostrils poking out of the water and huge silhouettes just below the surface. Monkeys were everywhere and showed no fear of us, even back then they associated people with food. In 1966 we went camping in the Masai Mara. I slept in the car because I was scared of all those animal noises in the night. My brother Mike dreamed of being a Game Warden and he enjoyed making a study of animal poo and matching it with up with their footprints or 'spoor'. Our friends from Nairobi the Westwells came with us that time (see cine film below, which also highlights the state of the roads) As well as overnighters we did lots of day trips to see wild life, often to Nairobi Game Park, the Animal Orphanage where abandoned babies were raised and the Snake Park where you could lean over the wall and watch snakes trying to climb out of the pit, safe in the knowledge that they couldn't. The more dangerous snakes were kept in glass cages. Then there were the Rift Valley Lakes - Naivasha, Nakuru and Natron which were home to huge flocks of flamingos and trips to Kisumu on Lake Victoria where crocodiles could sometimes be seen basking on the rocks. I didn't go to Amboselli, another well known game park on the Kenya / Tanzania border, until 1981 when I was visiting my Dad in Kenya, with my husband, son and sister. It was a long, bumpy and dusty journey but rewarded by spectacular views of Mount Kilimanjaro. The holiday included Lake Baringo, another lake I had not visited before. We didn't swim in any of the lakes, for fear of hippos, crocs or contracting the deadly disease bilharzia. I haven't included any of Mum's animal films here as they are very faded and scratchy and in no way compare to the amazing wildlife films shown on telly these days, but they were fun for us to watch at the time, reliving our safari excitement. This a visit to Tsavo park with the Moffat family in 1961, you can see the outline of Mount Kilimanjaro. We are at Mzima Springs, the place where you can go underground to see the fish, and - if you were lucky - the hippo, swimming about. There were lots of monkeys running around as well, trying to get into the car. This film was taken in the Masai Mara game park in about 1966, were camping with friends the Cawleys and the Westwells. We had a new car by then - a citroen, which had rather dodgy suspension; the idea was that the suspension raised the car up above the bumpy road so avoiding damage below the car, however it once sank down onto the rOAD. This is me in my school uniform: it's my last year at school, the Kenya High School for Girls in Nairobi. Its 1968 and I am 18. My jacket is too small because I've had it since I started school 5 years ago; I have put on a bit of weight since then - we are very well fed here at the “Heifer Boma”. I wonder how many calories we consume each day? Since the age of 13 most of us have been wrestling with our weight ...... Our daily diet included :- 7.30 Breakfast - a selection of cereal, porridge, eggs, toast, french toast, tea or coffee. My favourite breakfast is on Sunday when we have hard, ie rock hard, boiled eggs and toast. We make our own expresso by fiercely beating a teaspoon of instant coffee, a teaspoon of sugar with half a teaspoon of hot water to a white creamy paste; then fill the cup with boiling water, stir gently, add milk..... and sip slowly through the thick froth you have created. 10.30 Break-time - we have cold milk and sandwiches 1.00 Lunch - a two course hot meal; my favourites are toad in the hole with gravy, and fish in cheese sauce; worst is salt beef and cabbage; yummiest puddings include fruit crumble and custard, spotted dick (also with custard) – worst are Tanganyika mud (choc mousse) and frogs eggs (semolina) 4.00 Tea - bread and butter, plus jam, or 'sugar sandwiches' if feeling desperate. On Wednesdays we have cake. 7.30 Finally supper, again 2 courses - yukkiest is dish water soup, yummiest is junket. No one else likes junket so I eat their share as well. It's not worth buying me a new jacket as we don't often wear them; we are supposed to wear them to chapel on Sunday but can get away without. They do have to be worn on Speech Day, once a year, or other rare special occasions. We also have a regulation grey felt hat – know as a 'potty' - its part of our Sunday best uniform but nobody ever wears this either. Amazingly our regulation school uniform requirements cover two sides of A4, all of which has to be purchased from the school outfitters, Alibhai's of Nairobi. This is why our enormous grey bloomers are referred to as 'Alibhai Nylons' (we don't wear these either except when we have a period). To our daily classes we wear a grey flannel skirt with box pleats front and back, a white short sleeved cotton blouse, red and black striped tie – with a tie pin, a grey V neck jumper, white socks, brown lace up shoes. If your hair is long enough to cover your collar then you must tie it up, even if that means a tiny bunch behind each ear, agony if you are trying to grow your hair. For weekly gym lessons we change into black bloomers, with a stripe of our house colour down each side (mine is green), and a matching black vest. For games each evening we wear grey flannel divided skirts with a white aertex shirt, socks and “tackies”. Finally, after a bath we change for supper into “checks” (gingham dresses). At least we have a choice of colour! Our weekend uniform is “greens” - cotton divided skirts with matching blouse – all in the same regulation green colour. We are actually allowed to wear our own pyjamas though. Once you become a senior, form 4 and above, you are allowed to wear a straight skirt rather than pleated. School routine is also very rigid: the wake up bell goes at 6.50 and we must be lined up ready for inspection when the next bell goes at 7.20 - ie washed and dressed in all the proper uniform, with tidy hair, tie and tie pin on straight, clean short nails and a clean hanky. At the sound of yet a further bell we walk, single file, across the Five Acre, and up the steps to the dining room for breakfast. After breakfast we go back to our boarding block (not in single file this time) to make our beds. Assembly is at 8.00 in the school hall (which doubles as the dining room) and classes start at 8.30 with a break at 10.30 and lunch at 1pm. After lunch we have to go back to our boarding block for a half hour 'rest' - undressed and lying on the bed without talking, at 2pm classes resume followed by tea and games – netball, hockey or athletics – depending which term it is. Swimming and tennis lessons take place during the day. At about 6.00 its back to the boarding house for a bath/shower and to wash our smalls (the dhobi men won't wash these). Prep follows 7.30 supper, or 'rec' at weekends. Juniors do an hour of prep, we seniors do 2 hours. Teachers patrol the corridors during prep and a prefect supervises the junior classes - just to make sure no one talks when they should be working. Bed time varies by age - juniors at 8pm and seniors at 9, and there is a strict no talking after lights out rule – monitored by prefects, with punishment if caught in the act - usually being made to stand in the corridor outside the dormitory with arms stretched out at shoulder height, until the prefect decides you can go back to bed. I am wearing a blue tie in this picture, which means I am a prefect – 'head of house' no less. How did this happen? Prefects are elected by house members so I must be quite popular?? Although I'm not a natural disciplinarian its my responsibility to keep the rabble under control. Funny how memory of that word 'rabble' just popped onto the page, out of nowhere - this is how we refer to the juniors (13-14 year olds). Prefects are either 'red rags' or 'blue rags'. Each house has four prefects, 3 red rags, who wear a red tie (instead of the red and black stripe), and a 'Head of House', who wears a blue tie. There are 12 Houses, two for day pupils and 10 for boarders, each named after a woman of notable achievement. I am in Beale House – the others are :- Kerby, Huxley, Nightingale, Northcote, Darling, Mortimer, Mitchell, Hamilton, Curie, Bronte, Baden-Powell. There is an annual inter-house competition based on games and academic performance and the winner gets the 'Cock House' Cup. For punishment we prefects can dish out 'order marks' (ordies) or the more serious 'conduct marks' (condies). Three order marks automatically result in a conduct mark. An order mark will require completion of certain tasks such as polishing the prefects' shoes, cleaning the chapel silver, collecting and 'de-backing' 500+ stamps. A conduct mark means you will be gated ie you can't go out on shopping trips or Sunday exeats. Order and Conduct marks are also counted in Cock House performance. I hope nobody is scared of me as a prefect, when I was rabble I was terrified of prefects; actually the whole school was a scary place to a shy 13 year old, I remember my first night there very clearly …... Its Sunday evening, Mum and Dad have left, I've dried my tears, unpacked my case, familiarised myself with the dorm and the other new girls, then we have to line up for supper. A bell rings and the line moves off, through the big glass door of my new home (Beale House), up some steps across the grassy area known as the Five Acre to the quad outside the dining room where our line merges with lines of girls from the other houses. In the growing darkness I can see more lines, some 500 girls from a crescent of 10 boarding houses each snaking in single file towards outside the dining hall. Then into the hall, each girl proceeding to stand beside one of the tables allocated to their house, waiting to sing Vespers. Each girl except me. Suddenly panic sets in – where has my 'house' gone? What happened to the girl in front of me? I don't recognise anyone and I don't know where to go. The sea of girls, all dressed in the same gingham checks, are sitting down to eat, with me standing there like a lemon. After what seems like an age (but is only a few minutes) I am rescued by one of my house prefects and led, crimson faced, to my table. Looking this picture and the one of me aged 13, I think about the 6 intervening years. Its like 2 sides of a coin. On one side I am a 'well rounded individual', I have 8 GCSEs and will soon have 3 'A' levels. I can swim, dive, play hockey, netball and tennis (although not well). I have developed friendships that will last me a lifetime and have the whole world at my feet. On the other side I am still shy and lacking in confidence; I was always just average at school, never top of the class, never picked for the house games teams, never developing any special talent. My name never appeared in the school magazine as having written a clever poem or interesting story or having received a school prize or heading up any of the myriad of clubs and societies, or taking a starring role in the school play. And within a year of leaving school I was pregnant – but that's another story. showing off my new uniform to Janet Moffat, getting ready to start at Kenya High School in 1962 This short one min film was taken during the hockey festival in about 1965 and which gives an idea of what the school was like, and the uniform, although it mainly shows the hockey pitches. A few seconds showing the Kenya High School 'campus' during an open day or speech day It is 1965 and I am Fifteen (This is a fictional but memory based composite story of both holidays written during a creative writing course) I have a favourite jumper: navy blue with narrow white stripes around the bottom edge, baggy enough to pull down over my knees as I sit on the roof of the canal boat. Underneath I'm wearing denim jeans with frayed bell bottoms, the latest fashion. As I sit with my knees tucked up under my jumper I continue the fraying process. The boat chugs serenely down the canal, Dad and Uncle Gordon are taking turns at the helm; I'm oblivious to what other family members are doing. It's summertime so naturally it's raining, well drizzling really, but I'm still crouched here pulling threads; all this calm and quiet is a bit boring for a 15 year old. Rufus, the dog, is also bored but dealing with it in a different way, pacing up and down the deck, what there is of it. He has already fallen in once, we had to moor up and drag him up the bank by his collar, a soggy bundle of black fur, but it did relieve the tedium for a moment. My Dad is on leave in the UK and we are taking a holiday with my cousins (on my Mum's side), on a canal boat somewhere in Oxfordshire. Nine of us and a scatty black labrador. My brother and sister and two cousins are much younger than me so no company for me at all. I have to admit though that the countryside is fascinating, so green compared to Kenya, and the only wild animals are cows. I've never seen a canal before, the boats have to be really narrow and even then passing can be a tight squeeze. We move along at snails pace so I can can take in everything that's happening around me, not much in fact. Actually the locks are fun. We all jump off and run up the tow path to the lock or watch Dad and Gordon wrestling with ropes and bumping the boat through the narrow opening; we all try to help – by holding the rope to keep the boat still while its in the lock. We help the lock keeper push the gates closed then he turns the handle opening the sluices to let water in or out. Its a race then to get back on board before the boat leaves the lock. Sometimes there are several locks, one after another and then we're all exhausted. Next week we'll be on the river, I wonder what that'll be like. The Thames is huge compared to the canal and there are lots of boats – more like proper boats than our narrow boat and much more manoeuvrable, they're everywhere, moored up on the river bank or buzzing up and down. So much activity compared to the calm of the canal; the sun may be shining now, but I'm not taking my jumper off – its not as warm as I'm used to. There don't seem to be many locks on the river but there are lots of towns and villages, more interesting places to stop. Its early in the morning and we've been moored up overnight close to a lovely green grassy area with trees, I am taking a break from fraying my jeans and eating some breakfast. My brother Mike and my cousin Martin have taken Rufus for a run ashore. All of a sudden Mike comes running back towards the boat shouting for help, he seems really frightened and agitated. “What's happened?” we cry in unison. “Mart has fallen out of the tree, he's hurt badly”. We all hurry after him, following the sound of Martin's howls. Luckily its not too far as the poor boy has broken his arm. Well, we didn't know that right away but a few hours later and following a ride in an ambulance my aunt and uncle returned with Martin proudly clutching a freshly plastered arm encased in a sling. Later that day, when everyone has calmed down, we resume our journey down the river for an uneventful few days till we return to our cousins' home in Beckenham. Next week we'll be travelling north to my Granny's house in county Durham. (PS I have made it sound a bit boring but actually it was great fun!) Here are three cine films of the adventure as well. on the narrowboat, part 1. Gordon, Irene, Martin and Paula - and Rufus with the Stokoes - Stan, Muriel (never seen with as she is always behind the camera) with Jan, Mike and Kathy (2.08 min) Same holiday part 2 (2.13) Two years later, same people but on a river boat this time Our family in the North – My Dad's parents, Granny and Grandpa Stokoe, lived in Tursdale, a small mining village near Durham. Just two parallel streets of terraced houses – Ramsay Street and School street, leading down to the colliery / pit where most of the men worked, including Grandpa. Each house was a 'two up, two down' with a back yard containing the toilet and coal shed. There was no bathroom, Grandpa got washed in a tin bath in the scullery, filled by kettles of hot water from the range. No tin bath for us visitors though, we popped went over to the next village – Metal Bridge – where my Aunt Nell and Uncle Dave now had an indoor bathroom. As well as a bathroom they also had a Telly, what a luxury! I remember watching Andy Pandy, the Flowerpot Men, Rag Tag and Bobtail and the Woodentops. There were no local shops in Tursdale so, apart from bus rides to Coxhoe or Ferryhill, Granny bought most of her groceries from mobile shops. Their house was quite small and Granny preferred that we children played outside, this was ok for me and Mike but Kathy was not too happy and had to make do with setting up her toy oven in the back yard. I made friends with Shirley Hutchison who lived next door at number 61 Ramsay St and she would stand by the back gate calling 'Jaaaanet' until I came out. Then we would go off down the allotments, try and climb the pit heap or sit on the 'netty tops' (the roofs of the outside toilets) watching the world go by. Once we camped out in the field below the village and when we were older Shirley took me to my first dance / disco in Bowburn Village Hall, which was very exciting. Us girls danced and the guys walked round the edge of the dance floor deciding who they wanted to 'get off with' when the dance ended. Sometimes we would call for Pauline Lovatt as well and there are pictures of the three of us on the beach at Redcar. My Granny made the most amazing Yorkshire puddings - the size of dinner plates, which were eaten before the roast beef was served. She also served up a wonderful 'high tea' when the rest of the family came to visit while we were home. Visitors included Uncle Jack and Auntie Sylvia, who lived in Morpeth, with our cousins Tony and Rosemary; Uncle Charlie and Auntie Madge who lived in Loftus. Then there was Uncle Don, Dad's youngest brother who was still living at home with his Mum, our Granny, and our Auntie Ellen, a nurse who lived mainly in Cambridge. We sometimes visited her when we were in the south. More wonderful high teas resulted from Madge and Charlie inviting us to Loftus, plus Jack and Sylvia inviting us to Morpeth, and Great Uncle Jack and Aunt Doris inviting us to tea in Tudhoe Village, near Ferryhill. We also went on picnics and outings to places such as High Force waterfall on the Tees, Hadrian's Wall, Redcar beach, Durham Cathedral and in 1960 we went to the Durham Miners Gala, or the 'Durham Big Meeting'. After Grandpa died Granny and Don moved – first to Witton Gilbert, still in county Durham, then to Wylam in Northumberland. Other family members stayed where they were. We still continued to visit them regularly but I don't have such lasting memories as I do of Tursdale. Dad took me back to Tursdale in the 1990s and showed us the Working Men's Club where Grandpa used to go for a few beers, much to his Methodist family's disapproval. I went back there again last year (2014) and although Ramsay Street is still there, all the houses have been modernised and I had difficulty in identifying number 62. I spoke to a lady who had lived there for 40 years, she remembered Shirley but didn't remember my Granny, Mrs Stokoe. I took some photos of Tursdale and Metal Bridge, which hadn't changed very much. In 1964 Stan and Charlie bought a garage together in Loftus, Charlie was manager while Stan was still in Kenya and Trevor Harding was in charge of car repairs. They also employed several local ladies to serve petrol and for a while were an agent selling SAAB cars. Trevor took over as manager when Charlie died and Stan joined him to help run the garage when he left Kenya in 1984. Stan bought a house in Loftus and he and Wendy (his second wife) have lived there ever since. Here are some cine films of our holidays in the North Picnic with Granny and Grandad Stokoe and visit to Hadrians Wall in 1960 (3.18min) Stokoe family attending the Durham Miners Gala with Grandad, who had been a coal miner before he retired (2.07min) Our family in the South – My Mum's parents both died young and when we came home on leave to the UK we stayed with her Auntie Elsie who lived in a semi in Bickley, near Bromley, Kent. As she had never married or had any children of her own Auntie Elsie found it a bit overwhelming to have a family of 5 descend on her, but she always made us very welcome. She had a beautiful garden, her pride and joy, which was a great space for us to play in and there were parks nearby. We also stayed with Mum's sister Irene (Smithe) and her family – husband Gordon and our cousins Paula and Martin, especially after they built themselves a lovely big house in Shortlands, near Beckenham. Mum had a brother as well – Geoffrey - he and his wife Daisy and son Matthew also lived in Bickley and we often went there for tea, or for a Chinese take away. Staying in Bromley and Beckenham gave us access to sight seeing in London and over the years we did it all: Buckingham Palace, The Tower of London, Crown Jewels, Trafalgar Square, all the Museums, Madame Tussauds and the rest. When I was 16 my Mum took me shopping in Carnaby Street and bought me lots of trendy clothes, including a fab dress made of newspaper – well not real newspaper but that stuff that is a cross between paper and fabric, not washable though! She also took me to see the Beatles film Help, but that was in Sunderland I think. While we were home on leave we did two canal boat holidays with our cousins – the Smithes – in 1965 we did two weeks on the Oxfordshire canals starting from Abingdon, and in 1967 we did a week on the canals followed by a week on the River Thames. I have done a separate story/pictures on these adventures. This photograph was taken in April 1967 (by William Grier of Arlington Studios, Loftus). It shows the garage in West Road which was purchased in 1964 by Stokoe Brothers. The brothers were Charlie, who ran the garage until his death in 1975 and Stan who was at that time teaching Kenya. The family were originally from Metal Bridge in County Durham. Stan wanted to buy into the business to support his brother; he was initially a sleeping partner, but when he finally left Kenya, and after Charlie had died, he did take on the management of the business alongside Trevor and Rosemary. Charlie wasn't a mechanic but he knew a young man from Spennymooor, Trevor Harding, who he know would be an excellent engineer. He persuaded Trevor and his wife Rosemary to leave Durham and come and work in the garage. They moved to Skelton where they lived until 2013. Charlie and his wife Madge lived close to the garage in Co-operative Close, Loftus. When Charlie died aged only 56 Stan was still in Kenya running a teacher training college so he asked Trevor and Rosemary to take over the management. They agreed and were very successful at it, running a thriving Saab Agency, a very popular workshop and MOT facility as well as the petrol station - serving generations of primary school children with sweets on their way to school. Stan's son Mike joined the garage in the 70s as a mechanic, he completed his training with Trevor and and worked there for several years. In 1984 Stan retired from Kenya and, with his new wife Wendy, moved to Loftus to help out with the running of the garage. By this time supermarkets were starting to sell petrol at prices that forced small garages out of business and in 1996 the garage closed. As well as employing Trevor and Rosemary, Mark and Kevin worked in the workshop and Barbara, Lesley, Mary, Greta and Pam were the wonderful petrol ladies. Birth of a Grandson - February 1992 \"A long time ago and a very long way away, right across the sea there was once a little girl just like you called Muriel. She couldn't say her name very well when she was very little so she always called herself 'Mimi'. Mimi lived with her Mummy and Daddy and her big brother Geoffrey and her little sister Irene. They had a white shaggy dog with brown ears whose name was Pat and a beautiful pussy called Binkie. They liked to play in the garden with their toys. They had a big wooden horse which rocked and which they could get on and make go very fast. Geoffrey had a toy train which went along on lines, just like the real train you went on to the sea, only very little. Mimi had a dollies pram and a little house for all the very small dollies to live in, with beds and tables and chairs. She also had some cups and saucers and plates and she and her little sister, Irene, used to give all the dollies and teddies their tea in the garden very often. They used to have their own tea in the garden too and Pat, the dog, had his saucer of real tea and Binkie had his saucer of milk too. Sometimes they all went to the seaside with their Mummy and Daddy and played in the sand and splashed in the water. They enjoyed it very much and soon learned to swim. When they grew a little bigger they all went to school. First Geoffrey went with his pencils and crayons and his school satchel, like Bill's, and then Muriel and at last Irene. Muriel had stopped calling herself Mimi now because she could say Muriel nicely and didn't want to be called a baby. They all went to school for a long long time and learned to read and write and draw, so that they could read lots of lovely stories in their own books and draw pictures and write letters to their friends, just like you will some day soon and like Mummy and Daddy do now. After a long time Geoffrey and Muriel and Irene became really grown up people and had to learn lots more things besides reading, writing and drawing, how to make things like Daddy and how to sew and cook and paint pictures like Mummy and ever so many other things that grown up people do. All the time that Muriel was growing up in a big city called London, there was a little boy called Stan growing up in another place. One day Muriel's Daddy and Mummy went to live in a place called Loughborough and Stan also went there to learn how to make nice furniture and other things and to play football with the other boys. One day Stan said to Muriel “Will you come for a walk with me” and after that they often went for walks together, till one day Stan asked Muriel to stay with him always and live with him. But first he said he must go a long way across the sea to a place called Nairobi in Africa and find a nice little house for them to live in. So he went off in a big aeroplane and left Muriel behind with her Mummy. While he was away a lovely little baby came to Muriel. As soon as she could she took the little baby on a big ship and sailed away to Africa to find Stan so that he could be a real Daddy to her, and they called her Janet. Stan and Muriel loved Janet very much and bought her lots of lovely things and they all lived together in a nice house with a lovely garden. One day they will take Janet across the sea and show her where they lived when they were little, where all the people they love and left behind are waiting to see Janet.\" “Since the War industry has become more and more standardised,and comparatively unskilled labour, with the help of machinery, has replaced the former craftsman and his apprentices, who were proud of maintaining the high standard of old traditions, and were responsible for creating new ones. Their vital importance has been lost sight of, and there is now in every trade a shortage of skilled labour , and standardisation will soon have no craftsmen to direct and refresh its production. The scarcity has become acute, owing to the unwillingness of the younger generation to apprentice themselves and learn a trade. They are afraid that skilled craftsmen will ultimately be pushed out of the labour market by machinery, and prefer to earn, immediately on leaving school, the easier money obtained in juvenile employment. This situation would not arise if people realised that craftsmen and factories do not work in opposition to one another, but that the efforts of both combined are necessary to modern development. The factory's primary function is to produce,the craftsman's to create; the factory must emulate the work of the craftsman, the latter must ensure a high standard of style and execution. With these considerations in view, Mr Michaelis decided to form a Training School, and in order that it might not depend on one man alone, nor its continuance be jeopardised in the event of any accident to himself, he formed a Trust, with himself and Mr E. Bullock as Trustees, to administer and direct its affairs. The Trust which is registered as the “Rycotewood Trust”, has a guaranteed income for eight years. The Trustees have decide to train boys to be cabinet makers, as they believe the lack of skilled men will prove fatal to the furniture trade, and are certain that any who have been able to take advantage of a thorough training will be in a strong position. The School is situated in the wing of the late poor law Institution at Tame, Oxfordshire, bought by Mr Michaelis, and now known as Rycotewood. The Trust rent these premises from Mr Michaelis at a nominal rent, together with the grounds. It is proposed to take eight boys each year, thus at the beginning of the fourth year there will be 32, which will be the maximum number. It the enterprise is a success the next the batch taken at the beginning of the fifth year will be guaranteed four years training, as will all subsequent batches, and the income of the Trust will be concurrently guaranteed. The boys will be taken in at the age of 14 to 16, and will be drawn mostly from the large towns, special consideration being given to the depressed areas, but should any parent wish to send their boy, he will not be refused, provided that the Trustees consider him suitable, and there is a vacancy. The boys will be taken entirely free of charge, being housed, clothed, fed and trained at the expense of the Trust, and pocket money will be given them, based on their skill, hard work, and the length of time they have been at the School. If is is discovered that any boy has no aptitude for the career he has chosen to take up , and it is believed, after a protracted trial, that he will never become a good craftsman, then the boy and his parents will be consulted as to what trade he would like to follow, and if at all possible training in this trade will be provided for him, under the same conditions. This will only happen if the boy has proved himself worthy of this special consideration by his previous diligence,and if it is considered that he will make good in the new line he has chosen, No trouble will be spared in finding the boys jobs at the termination of their training. In two years' time a hand- made furniture factory will be started, completely independent from the school, but in which the boys will be able to find a job during the interim between the completion of their training and their finding a situation, should this be necessary. The main buildings at Rycotewood lie in the shape of a capital H, consisting of two wings three stories high, joined by a building of two stories. The boys will be accommodated in the southern of these two wings, and half of the two-storied buildings joining them. In the southern wing there will be two dormitories on the top floor, each accommodating 8 boys, in which they will sleep for the first two years; a bath room, consisting of one bath and two showers, is situated in between. For their last two years they will each have a small bed-sitting room, which will be on the first floor, where there is similar washing accommodation. The ground floor will be given over to workshops, of which there will be three. In the two-storied building there will be an open air workshop and further bed-sitting rooms. The dining room will be next to the open air workshop, with the recreation and reading rooms above it. The day will start with breakfast at 7.30. At 8.30 they will begin work in the workshops and continue until 12.30. Dinner will be at 12.45, and there will be a recreation period in the afternoon in the afternoon until 3.15, when they will again work in workshops until 4.45. Three afternoons a week will be set aside for technical drawing and designing, and will be increased according to the aptitude of the boys and as the advance of their training makes it necessary. Wood-carving will be taught as a side-line, and if any boy has a particular aptitude he will be encouraged to take up and become proficient in this line. Tea will be at 5 o'clock. From 5.45 until 7.30 will be devoted to their general education. Supper will be at 7.45 and the boys will be in bed at 8.45. As the boys grow older, an extra hour will be put in after supper and this will also be devoted to their general education. There will be a half-day on Saturday from 12 o'clock onwards, and an evening off on Wednesdays. The boys will get a week's holiday at Christmas and Easter, and a fortnight in the late Summer. Out-door sports will be encouraged and facilities provided for them, as also for gym and physical training. Their woodwork training will be in the hands of Mr AG Hussey, who was apprenticed at the age of 13 to a wood-carver and cabinet maker in Maidenhead. After 5 years apprenticeship he worked in Oxford as a wood-carver for a year, and had a year in the same line at Exeter. After this he carried on his own business as a cabinet maker for three years, and during this time was instructor in wood-craft under the Buckinghamshire County Council, holding two evening classes a week. He then went to Western Collier Ltd, of Henley with whom he spent 33 years, and came straight from there to take up his present appointment. Mrs Harley, who nursed in hospitals in France and England during the Great War, and has lately been an Instructress to the LCC and LCVO, has been appointed Matron and will be in charge of their medical well-being. The aim of the school is to turn out men, with a healthy outlook on life and its responsibilities, to become good and useful citizens, with a technical training that will enable them to obtain jobs as first-class improvers, and having gained experience to become foremen and master craftsmen. I the school accomplishes this it will fulfil the ideal which prompted its formation. There are bound to be difficulties and disappointments, and although the guiding principals will remain the same, innovations both in administration and training may have to be introduced as time and experience alone can tell, and the Trustees will welcome any helpful suggestions that may be made with regard to the scheme.” Stanley (Stan) was born on 16 February 1924 in the village of Ferryhill, County Durham. Legend has it that he weighed in at 16 lbs, but this fact should be treated with some scepticism since his mother, Elizabeth, was tiny, only 4'8, and he was born at home and weighed on the kitchen scales. He was the middle child of five children, he had two older brothers, Charlie and Jack, and a younger sister and brother Ellen and Don. The picture shows the children in their back yard at Metal Bridge (left to right) Ellen, Stan, Charlie and Jack - Don had yet to be born. His father, Michael, was a coal miner at Tursdale Colliery. The family initially lived at Metal Bridge, a couple of miles away, but they later moved to Tursdale. Their house was in a small terrace: a basic \"two up and 2 down\" with a scullery, no bathroom and an outside toilet, His mother Elizabeth was a full time housewife. In the early days the family's staple diet included 'bread and dip' ie bread and dripping from the Sunday roast. Stan went to the local primary school (East Howell School) and, when he was older, worked on his Uncle Dave's chicken farm in the school holidays; he was not a particularly good student but his Father did not want him to work down the mine. Stan was fortunate, and thanks to the intervention of his Uncle Jack, who was himself a school teacher, Stan was offered a place at Rycotewood School in Tame, Oxfordshire where he started when he ws 14. This school changed his life. He signed on with the Royal Navy - Fleet Air Arm, in Oxford, and after training in Lee-on-Solent, Cheshire, Canada (advanced flying) and Scotland, he was stationed in Ceylon, at Trincomalee Harbour, on general flying duties atttached to 733 Squadron. He was de-mobbed back in Lee-on-Solent in 1946. Although Stan insists that he did nothing brave, he has war medals for 'being there', He describes being \"shit scared\" when he was shot down - twice- and had to bale out of his aircraft. He is a member of the 'caterpillar club' - for owing his life to a silkworm. For each occasion he was awarded a tiny gold silkworm broach, with ruby eyes.and his name engraved on the back (insert pics). He also had a special goldfish tie for owing his life to a life-raft. After the war Stan went to Loughborough College, along with some of his Rycotewood contemporaries, to study woodwork, crafts and teaching (He was awarded an honorary degree when Loughborough became a University in 2010.) It was at Loughborough that he met Muriel, where she was secretary to the Principal and they were married in 1949. His first teaching job was in Stockwell, London and while there he applied to the overseas service and was offered a job at the Duke of York Boys school in Nairobi, Kenya. He flew out in January 1950, followed 6 months later by Muriel and baby, Janet. (Son Michael and daughter Katherine were born in 1954 and 1957 respectively) After stepping down as Principle from Kericho College when his job was 'Africanised' in 1969 / 70 Stan went to work at Machakos Teachers' College until finally in 1984, aged 60, he retired and returned to live in England. Stan had a garage business in Loftus which he started with his elder brother Charlie in the late 60s. When Charlie died in 1975 Trevor and Rosemary Harding took over as managers and Stan worked with them from 1984 while Wendy did supply teaching. The garage (petrol sales and car repairs) struggled financially and was eventually closed in 1996. Stan and Wendy continued to live in Loftus, in the terrace house which they bought and extended in 1982/3 and from which they travelled extensively. Twice they returned for holidays in Kenya but they also enjoyed escaping the winter weather in North East England and spending time in France, Spain, Greece and wintering in Cyprus several years in a row (1996- 2004) Highlights of their travels included a month long house swop in San Fransisco where Jan and Kathy joined them for two weeks; a canal trip through France with Kathy and her boyfriend Robbie; and three trips to visit ex Kenya friends at their home in Iceland. Many friends have madde the trip to visit Stan and Wendy in Loftus and they have made many new local friends, their house is right opposite the Station Hotel ! ! When Stan first came home he had two brothers and a sister living in the North East and Stan was delighted to be able to see so much more of them. It was a great sadness when Ellen, Jack and then Don died one by one. Stan himself has overcome ill health over the years and now struggles with Alzheimers. He reached his 90th birthday on 16 February 2014, although he was unfortunately in hospital he was able to enjoy a family get together in the ward - children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and his neice and nephew. Later, on 24th March, Stan and Wendy celebrated their 30th wedding aniversary, with Stan being home from hospital (although still suffering from Alzheimers). Another chapter in a very varied life. Eventually the Alzheimers got the better of him and Stan died in 2015 at the age of 91 Muriel was born on 12 April 1919 in Dulwich, South London; she was the middle child of 3 with an older brother Geoffrey and a younger sister Irene. Her father, Sydney, was an analytical chemist and her mother, Katherine (known as Minnie), was a teacher. Muriel and Irene both went to James Alleyn's Girls (secondary) School in Dulwich where they excelled academically. Muriel had a talent for art and subsequently went to Goldsmiths Art College, London, in about 1938. After War broke out in 1940 her family moved to Loughborough where she got a job as secretary to the Principal of Loughborough College. It was there that she met Stan Stokoe and they were married in July 1949. Their first child, Janet, was born in Feb 1950 and six months later Muriel sailed to Kenya to join Stan at the Duke of York School in Nairobi., Kenya. They lived there for 20 years and her other children Michael (1954) and Katherine (1957) were born during this period. NB - see Muriel's \"letters to Mother\" and \"Kenya, the early years\" for an insight to her life in from 1950 to 1960, also \"Bedtime story for Janet\" for her childhood. Muriel's life started to go wrong in the early 1960s when she had a nervous breakdown and was admitted to Winterton Psychiatric hospital in Sedgefield, County Durham. She was very unhappy: having to remain there while the rest of the family went back to Kenya. She was given ECT treatment which was both frightening and ineffective and between hospital stays she lived with her in-laws in Tursdale who were not very sympathetic to her condition and often told her to 'pull herself together', comparing her illness to Stan's spine operation which he recovered from in 1952. She was in and out of hospital for about 2 years but never fully recovered, not helped by her subsequent addiction to the barbiturate drugs which were prescribed for her during this period. It is not clear what caused her breakdown and subsequent affliction with anxiety and depression; there were probably multiple causes one of which might have been the arrival in Kenya of her sister Irene, with her 2 small children, and the impact this had on her marriage. Irene and her husband Gordon (and his mother) - The Smithes - arrived after a trip from South Africa and stayed for nearly 2 years (although Gordon and his mother returned to the UK after a few weeks) When Muriel returned to Kenya in 1963 the the family had moved to Kericho and all her children were away at boarding school. She also became something of a 'golf widow' as Stan spent most of his evenings at the Club and she rarely went with him as she was afraid to drink alcohol because of the barbiturates she was still taking. She did get involved in the amateur dramatic activity in Kericho and helped with set painting, costumes and make up but she really lived for the school holidays. When the decision was made to move the children to schools in the UK in 1969 Muriel decided to stay in England with them and Stan set up a home for the whole family at Hengar Manor in Cornwall, where the Smithes were now living. Muriel and the family did have regular holidays in Kenya - at Kericho and the Coast - until her death. It was in 1976 while on holiday in Kenya (in Machakos) with Janet, Kathy and Nick, that Muriel fell ill with what seemed like a stroke, she lost movement and co-ordination down one side, and her short term memory was affected. She was diagnosed with a cyst on the brain by an African doctor in Nairobi - Dr Washow, so she remained in Machakos to wait for an operation while the rest of the family returned to the UK. The operation was performed in Nairobi in October 1976 but Muriel never came out of hospital; although the cyst was successfully removed, a few days later she developed a blood clot and died of a pulmonary embolism. She was cremated in Nairobi with only Stan and close family friend, Molly Cawley in attendance. It was too costly to bring all the children back to Nairobi for the funeral. The saddest postscript to Muriel's death is the possibility that her mental illness might have some connection with the cyst growing on her brain (it was apparently quite large when removed), none of her doctors ever looked for a physical cause to her illness, her only treatment was strong medication - barbiturates, anti depressants (including valium, temazepam), and she was also treated for high blood. pressure. She was only 57 when she died.![\"wedding](\"content/images/2026/01/Stan%20and%20Wen%20wedding_1.jpg "\\"Stan")
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/stokoe%20Bros.jpg)
![\"Stan](\"content/images/2026/01/Dad%20and%20Wen%2030%20years.jpg "\\"Seafood")
I remember 'Granny Stokoe' very well as we stayed with her each time we came home from Kenya between 1950 and 1969. She was very strict with us and didn't like us hanging around in the house when she was busy cleaning and cooking. \"Hadaway out and play!\" she'd say - especially to my little sister who didn't have anyone to play with and liked to stay indoors with Mum, but she had to gou out and play in the yard, sitting on the kitchen step with her toy oven. I was friendly with Shirley, the girl next door, and would go out with her. On Sundays Granny made the most amazing yorkshire puddings which were served with gravy, before the roast beef. My brother Mike loved those yorkshires more than the rest of us.![\"Grandad\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Grandpa%20aged%2016.jpg "\\"Micky")
![\"Grandad\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Grandpa%20aged%2017%20in%201914.jpg "\\"Michael")
![\"Grandad\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Grandpa%202.jpg "\\"In")
![\"Grandad\"](\"content/images/2026/01/G%20dad%20with%20medal%20in%201917.jpg "\\"Micky")
![\"Grandad\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Granny%20and%20Grandad%201953.jpg "\\"with")
![\"Grandad\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Michael%20Price%20Stokoe%20circa%201950.jpg "\\"middle")
When:
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Elizabeth%20Miller%20v%202.jpg "\\"Elizabeth")
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Hunt%20fam%20tree%20v%202%20%28amended%29.jpg "\\"Hunt")
![\"\"](\"content/images/2026/01/Michael%20Price%20Stokoe%20family%20tree.jpg "\\"Michael")
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Elizabeth "\\"Elizabeth")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Hunt "\\"Michael")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Michael "\\"Michael")
\n \n\n",
+ "created_at": "2015-07-29T20:56:47.000Z",
+ "updated_at": "2015-07-29T20:56:47.000Z",
+ "status": "draft"
+ },
+ {
+ "id": 18,
+ "type": "post",
+ "title": "Muriel - Another letter to her Mother from Kenya in April 1952",
+ "slug": "muriels-second-letter-her-mother",
+ "html": "\n \n\n9.30pm
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/jan "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n1954
Nov 1955
1957
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/wedding_2.jpg\" "\\"Brighton")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/wedding_1.jpg\" "\\"with")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/jan_and_col_wedding.jpg\" "\\"Brighton")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/nick_with_gerbils_in_brighton.jpg\" "\\"Nick")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/nick_on_brighton_seafront.jpg\" "\\"Nick")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/nick_and_tree.jpg\" "\\"Christmas")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/more_christmas_in_brighton1.jpg\" "\\"more")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/jan_after_graduation_in_brighton.jpg\" "\\"Jan's")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/jan_xmas_day_in_brighton.jpg\" "\\"Christmas")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/christmas_in_brighton.jpg\" "\\"same")
\n\n\n \n![\"Brighton\"](\"content/images/colin_a_christmas_in_brighton.jpg\" "\\"Colin\\"")
\nOther Families / friends
Best Friends
New Arrivals
n and around Nyeri town
Leaving
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Kids "\\"Children")
School
\n \n\n\n \n\nSocial life
Playing
\n \n\n\n \n\nPicnics and outings
\n \n\n\n \n\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1960 "\\"Grass")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/tribal "\\"Tribal")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1961 "\\"The")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1962 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Embu "\\"Leaf")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Cave "\\"walking")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Aberdares, "\\"Crossing")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Aberdare "\\"Aberdare")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Thego "\\"Mike")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \nWhat is a \"when-we\"?
Why did we make this?
So Read On ......
Youth and Teens
The Big Adventure
Cornwall
Up North
At Home in the North
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/barnard_castle_school.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/mike_on_safari.jpg\" "\\"Mikes")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/safari_1.jpg\" "\\"Mikes")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/mike_on_safari_2.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/mike_linda_1972ish_at_st_tudy_photos.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"St](\"content/images/mike_and_linda_wedding_family_photo.jpg\" "\\"Mike's")
\n\n\n \n![\"Jon](\"content/images/jon_and_dan_age_5or6.jpg\" "\\"Mikes")
\n\n\n \n![\"Nairobi\"](\"content/images/1966_mike_in_doy_uniform.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Hengar\"](\"content/images/jan_and_mike_at_hengar_70s.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mikes](\"content/images/doy_late_60s.jpg\" "\\"Duke")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/safari_photos_3.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mikes](\"content/images/mike_dad_at_wedding_1972.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike](\"content/images/mike_and_christine_wedding.jpg\" "\\"Mike's")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike](\"content/images/mike_and_chris_25_years2.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/2006_mikes_family_new_year.jpg\" "\\"Mike,")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mike\"](\"content/images/jon_dan_and_lucy_at_kathys_wedding.jpeg\" "\\"Mike's")
\n![\"Hengar](\"content/images/2026/01/hengar.jpg "\\"Hengar")
![\"Cavalier](\"content/images/2026/01/cavaliercottage.jpg "\\"Cavalier")
https://www.hengarmanor.co.uk/The end of school
January to July 1969
Pregnant!
Nicholas Peter Stokoe
Postscript .... the story continues with a move to Brighton and then back to Cornwall. Nick came with me on several holidays to Kenya in the early 70's, to Kericho and the Coast so there are photos and films of him there.
\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"Nick\"](\"content/images/nicks_first_birthday_at_hengar_1970s.jpg\" "\\"Nicks")
\n\n\n \n![\"Nick\"](\"content/images/jan_sitting_with_nick_at_5_months.jpg\" "\\"5")
\n\n\n \n![\"Nick\"](\"content/images/jan_at_toddler_n_at_hengar.jpg\" "\\"back")
\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Jan "\\"Six")
\n\n \n![\"Jan\"](\"content/images/1969_bromley_station.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Hengar](\"content/images/hengar.jpg\" "\\"Hengar")
\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n![\"Jan\"](\"content/images/new_born_nick.jpg\" "\\"baby")
\n\n\n \n![\"Jan\"](\"content/images/new_born_nick_1.jpg\" "\\"baby")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1970_mike_and_nick.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\nTHE BIG ADVENTURE
Bude
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Cornwall\"](\"content/images/kath_and_rob_r_at_hengar.jpg\" "\\"Kath")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/gus_honeybun.jpg\" "\\"Kathy's")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/robbie_2.jpg\" "\\"Robbie\\"")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/karobi_in_a_lock_in_france.jpg\" "\\"Karobi")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/karobi_in_paris.jpg\" "\\"windy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/kathy_and_rob_on_karobi.jpg\" "\\"Karobi")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/kathy_on_karobi_zante.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/kath_at_ford_hill.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"[title]\"](\"content/images/patrsy_jean_heading_through_france_to_greece.jpg\" "\\"All")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/patsy_jean_being_helped_through_a_lock.jpg\" "\\"Patsy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/kathy_with_patsy_jean_in_the_med.jpg\" "\\"Patsy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/k_sunbathing_on_patsy_jean.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Patsy](\"content/images/robbie_1.jpg\" "\\"Robbie")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/p1050618.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kericho\"](\"content/images/1967_kathy_in_school_uniform.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1965_01_kathy_and_mike_going_back_to_school.jpg\" "\\"Our")
\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1959 "\\"Kathy")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"Kathy](\"content/images/kathy_riding_1970.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy](\"content/images/karobi_3_final.jpg\" "\\"Karobi's")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy](\"content/images/karobi2_final.jpg\" "\\"Karobi's")
\n\n\n \n![\"Fletcher\"](\"content/images/fletch_in_2004.jpg\" "\\"Kathys")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy](\"content/images/the_happy_couple.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kathy\"](\"content/images/kathys_boys_2.jpg\" "\\"Kathy,")
\nLetter no 1 sent in 1951
First, Janet.
Second, Stan.
(Muriel)
Letter no 2
9.30pm
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Janet "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/as "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Thomsons "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/N. "\\"\\"")
The journey begins
DOYS Nairobi
Next stop Embu
Early in 1953 Stan left the Duke of York School and they moved to Embu, about 75 miles north east of Nairobi, in the foothills of Mount Kenya. This was Stan's first move into “African Education” : education in Kenya was segregated at that time and the Duke of York School was for white boys only while Embu was a secondary school for African boys only. Stan found he had better pay and progression opportunities in the African Education system.First trip home .... and another child
Moving on again - to Kisii
Stan faces a health crisis
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Stan](\"content/images/Stan "\\"Stan")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/D "\\"Baby")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/new "\\"new")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/G "\\"Quite")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/delamere "\\"Delamere")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/F "\\"new")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Mount "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Mt "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"Stan,](\"content/images/family "\\"Stan,")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/house "\\"The")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/baby "\\"Michael,")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Minnie "\\"Grandma")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/elsie "\\"Minnie")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/I "\\"4")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/on "\\"Outside")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Stand "\\"Stan")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/J "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/unpacking "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/verandah "\\"Muriel")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/witch_and_mukeria1.jpg\" "\\"\\"")
\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/christmas "\\"Christmas")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/cousins "\\"Michael")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Paula "\\"Paula")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Tursdale "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/picnic "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"Picnic](\"content/images/Picnic "\\"Picnic")
Kagumo families/friends
Best Friends
New Arrivals
In and around Nyeri town
Leaving
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Kagumo](\"content/images/mental "\\"Janet's")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"nyeri\"](\"content/images/1961_daphne_at_limuru.jpg\" "\\"Curtis's")
\n\n\n \n![\"nyeri\"](\"content/images/1961_swimming_in_limuru_dam.jpg\" "\\"swimming")
\n\n\n \n![\"nyeri\"](\"content/images/1961_limuru_dam_steph_and_jill.jpg\" "\\"swimming")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kagumo](\"content/images/gillespies.jpg\" "\\"Friends")
\n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Hassani\"](\"content/images/Hassani "\\"Hassani,")
\n\n \n![\"Mukeria\"](\"content/images/mukeria_1957.jpg\" "\\"Mukeria")
\n\n\n \n![\"[title]\"](\"content/images/stan_with_hassani_on_return_to_kenya.jpg\" "\\"Stan")
\nIntroduction
What We Did
School
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"from](\"content/images/mount_kenya_peaks.jpg\" "\\"Mount")
\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Pole "\\"Pole")
\n\n \n![\"Kagumo,](\"content/images/Nyeri\" "\\"Map")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"Kagumo\"](\"content/images/tea_party_on_our_verandah_1959ish.jpg\" "\\"Tea")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kagumo\"](\"content/images/janet_nursing_angus.jpg\" "\\"Janet")
\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Nandi "\\"Nandi")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/frangipani.jpg\" "\\"Frangipani")
\n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"Kagumo\"](\"content/images/kathy_aged_6_weeks.jpg\" "\\"Baby")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kagumo\"](\"content/images/nyeri_school_62_.jpg\" "\\"Athletics")
\n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"Nyeri](\"content/images/Nyeri "\\"Nyeri")
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/001 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/002 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/003 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/004 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/005 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/006 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/007 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/008 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/009 "\\"\\"")
\n\n \n![\"[title]\"](\"content/images/010 "\\"\\"")
\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1973_06_tea_hotel_pool.jpg\" "\\"swimming")
\nKabianga
\n \n\nKericho
\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n![\"Nakuru](\"content/images/2026/01/media-youtube/euTqp_IlLCU.jpg)
![\"Nick,](\"content/images/2026/01/media-youtube/9pQ1iXInNMM.jpg)
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1965_01_jan_going_back_to_school.jpg\" "\\"The")
\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1965_02_licnic_at_kabianga.jpg\" "\\"Picnic")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1966_01_janet.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"[kericho\"](\"content/images/1966_01_kathy_dressed_up.jpg\" "\\"Hellerene")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kericho\"](\"content/images/1966_01_jan_steph_adam_and_caroline.jpg\" "\\"outside")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1966_01_mike_kathy_and_kipper.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1966_09_chui_at_3_months.jpg\" "\\"Our")
\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1967_kathy_in_the_garden.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1967_jan_and_peter_butterworth.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/Kericho "\\"Our")
\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1970_mike_swinging_a_jembe.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1970_jan_hanging_out_the_clothes.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1970_oct_mike_on_tractor.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1973_01_kath.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1973_nick_with_patrick_and_owen.jpg\" "\\"Nick")
\n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1967_sp_kathy_and_horse.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1972_feb_kathy_and_nick_on_a_horse.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1967_kathy_riding_.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Kericho\"](\"content/images/1966_jan_walking_in_nairobi_street.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n![\"kericho\"](\"content/images/1967_nov_jan_and_mike_in_kings_garden.jpg\" "\\"Picnic")
\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/muddy "\\"A")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/bus "\\"Bus")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/looking "\\"View")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/big "\\"Wooded")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/Diani "\\"Looking")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/nglau "\\"Traditional")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1967 "\\"Buying")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1966 "\\"Swimming")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1963 "\\"Kathy")
\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/bleached "\\"Drift")
\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/coast0023.jpg\" "\\"View")
\n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"\"](\"content/images/1961Jan "\\"Jan")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n",
+ "feature_image": "content/images/Diani shore.jpg",
+ "created_at": "2015-07-29T21:51:00.000Z",
+ "updated_at": "2019-09-12T20:27:31.000Z",
+ "status": "draft"
+ },
+ {
+ "id": 36,
+ "type": "post",
+ "title": "On Safari in Kenya's Game Parks",
+ "slug": "safaris",
+ "html": "\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1960_uaso_niro_river.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1961_hasani_cooking_at_uaso_niro.jpg\" "\\"Hassani")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/early_elephant_at_uaso_niro.jpg\" "\\"Elephant")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1961_stan_kath_buffulo_springs.jpg\" "\\"Swimming")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1960_mu_at_buffalo_springs.jpg\" "\\"Muriel")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1960_san_and_mike_at_buffalo_springs.jpg\" "\\"Stan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Murchison\"](\"content/images/1965_at_the_top_of_the_falls.jpg\" "\\"Murchison")
\n\n\n \n![\"Murchison\"](\"content/images/1965_crocs_on_th_nile.jpg\" "\\"Murchison")
\n\n\n \n![\"Murchison\"](\"content/images/1965_elephant_at_paraa_lodge.jpg\" "\\"Stan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Murchison\"](\"content/images/1965_entrance_to_murchison_falls.jpg\" "\\"Entrance")
\n\n\n \n![\"Murchison\"](\"content/images/1965_hipos_at_paraa_lodge.jpg\" "\\"Hippos")
\n\n\n \n![\"Murchison\"](\"content/images/1965_murchison_falls.jpg\" "\\"Murchison")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1965_mar_elephant_at_samburu.jpg\" "\\"Elephants")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mara\"](\"content/images/1966_buffalo_bones_in_the_mara.jpg\" "\\"Masai")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mara\"](\"content/images/1966_camping_in_mara.jpg\" "\\"Camping")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mara\"](\"content/images/1966_jan_at_mara_camp.jpg\" "\\"Jan")
\n\n\n \n![\"Mara\"](\"content/images/1966_mara_river.jpg\" "\\"Kathy")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/chipmonk_at_samburu.jpg\" "\\"Chipmunk")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/samburu_game_scout_.jpg\" "\\"Game")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/samburu_tribe.jpg\" "\\"Samnuru")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/samburu_wives_1965.jpg\" "\\"Samburu")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/000013.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"Samburu\"](\"content/images/1960_bridge_over_uaso_niro_river.jpg\" "\\"bridge")
\n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n \n![\"Kenya](\"content/images/birds_eye_view_of_boma.jpg\" "\\"ariel")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_canal_leavinh_heyford.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_children_at_trout_inn.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_getting_fuel.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_jan_on_boat_roof.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_jan_walking_by_canal.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_k_at_trout_inn.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_mooring_the_boat.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_sitting_thames_lock.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1965_swans_at_abingdon.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_boat_in_the_lock.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_gordon_on_boat.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_k_and_rufus.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_km_rufus.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_lunch_on_board.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_me_and_kath_on_boat.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_me_and_rufus.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_opening_lock.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"canals\"](\"content/images/1967_skipper_gordon.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n \n\n\n \n\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/stan_and_ellen_at_eastborne.jpg\" "\\"Stan")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/eastbourne_stan_ellen_madge.jpg\" "\\"Eastbourne")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_.jpg\" "\\"Hadrians")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_hadrians_wall.jpg\" "\\"more")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_at_redcar.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_also_at_redcar.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_family_ay_redcar.jpg\" "\\"With")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_stokoes_at_tursdale.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_the_children.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_the_four_brothers_stokoe.jpg\" "\\"just")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_the_wives.jpg\" "\\"the")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_jan_at_tursdale.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_kath_and_mike_at_coop_close.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_kath_at_tursdale.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_on_steps_at_coop_close_loftus.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_pond_at_morpeth.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1967_tursdale_with_cousins.jpg\" "\\"1967")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_boating_lake_at_bromley_2.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_boating_lake_bromley.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_children_in_elsies_garden.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_mike_and_martin_at_elsies.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_rene_and_her_children_in_auntie_elsie_garden.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_smithes_house_at_shortlands.jpg\" "\\"The")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_mm_shortlands.jpg\" "\\"Mike")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_mu_j_and_m_.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1960_kath_at_elsies_.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/_goeffrey_daisy_garden_about_1960.jpg\" "\\"1960")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/auntie_elsies_front.jpg\" "\\"Front")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_trafalgar_sq_2.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_at_trafalgar_sq_2.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_kath_trafalger_sq.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_mike_with_pigeon_on_his_head.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n\n\n \n![\"uk](\"content/images/1965_rene_and_paula_at_home.jpg\" "\\"1965")
\n
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Stokoe](\"content/images/stokoe_bros_celebration.jpg\" "\\"Celebrating")
\n\n\n \n![\"Stokoe](\"content/images/stokoe_bros.jpg\" "\\"21")
\n
The old woman danced in her kitchen
\"I'm a gran, I'm a gran, I'm a gran!\"
Her shoes fell off and her toes were bare
She flung her apron into the air
And all the pins fell out of her hair,
\"I'm a gran, I'm a gran, I'm a gran!\"
The old woman sang in her kitchen
\"I'm a gran, I'm a gran, I'm a gran!\"
Her voice was cracked and out of tune
But her heart was as high as a runaway balloon
And the winter sun shone down like June
\"I'm a gran, I'm a gran, I'm a gran!\"
The neighbours came into her kitchen
They said, \"You may be a gran
But you look just like a demented hen,
It's quite disgraceful, especially when
You're over three-score years and ten!\"
\"Push off,\" she said, \"I'm a gran!\"
On the train the wheels were repeating
\"You're a gran, you're a gran, you're agran!\"
It seemed like a lifetime rolling past
But breathless she reached her goal at last
And whispered as she held him fast
\"I'm your gran, I'm your gran, I'm your gran!\"
Rycotewood school (see separate article) was founded by a philanthropist called Cecil Michaelis in 1938 to assist deprived children from rural and mining backgrounds and to develop them into skilled craftsman. Stan was there for 4 years and he loved it. The matron, Mrs Harley became his substitute mother, encouraging him and all the other boys to study hard and take all the exams available to them. He made some great friends, some of who he is still in touch with, they had a big 'Old Boys' reunion at the school in 2007? The furniture workshop established by the school is still in existence and it now part of Oxford and Cherwell Valley College (http://rycotewoodassociation.co.uk)
When war broke out in 1940 Stan was only 16 but he later joined the Fleet Air Arm in 1942.
Kenya was another turning point in Stan's life, another great adventure in a country he came to love and where he had a wonderful life between 1950 and 1984, progressing from teaching 'European' boys in a public school environment to teaching African students to be teachers and ultimately becoming the Principle of Kericho Teachers College in 1962. He was 'the last white Principle' and was awarded the MBE for services to education in Kenya (1970s).
It was in Machakos that Muriel died (from a pulmonary embolism following an operation to remove a cyst from her brain) in 1976. Two years later a new teacher arrived at the college from London - Wendy Hann. Over the next six years their friendship grew as they shared life in Machalos centred on the Sports club and holidays at the coast. In 1984 Stan and Wendy were married in Machakos church with a reception at the Sports Club before returning to England to live in Loftus (North Yorkshire).
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n![\"Wendys](\"content/images/dan "\\"Stan")