On 22 February 1986, my wife and I were married. A week later we were flying over the deserts of Libya and Sudan to start our new life together in Nairobi, Kenya. A country where poverty in Nairobi in the form of the Kibera slums sits next to the wealthier parts of the city. My colleague at the firm of accountants I was employed by, worked in insolvency. A visit with him to a client in Kibera told its own story regarding poverty. In the deserted business premises was scratched on the wall the following poignant message: ‘When poverty comes through the door love escapes through the window’

The climate in the capital city was ideal. Fresh going to work in the morning at 8am due to its altitude at 5500 feet and fairly hot but not overbearing in the middle part of the day. My general memories of the country were of big cloudless skies, wide open game reserves, the stunning Rift valley, the greenery of the Aberdares and Caribbean type beaches near Mombasa. My office colleagues were African mainly and like many locals we met with at church and socially, were of a sunny disposition and usually always smiling. Seeing the country took up a lot of our spare time. I climbed Mt Kenya in Kenya and Mt Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. The latter taking 3 days to climb, covering some of the most varied topographies on the planet; banana plantations, forests, heath and moorland, desert, scree slopes topped off by ice cliffs.

My naivety showed itself more than once! Out for an afternoon drive early into my contract we spoke to a young African lad near the Ngong Hills only for him to pull a knife on us. Quick acceleration of our vehicle solved the problem. Thereafter we realised the countryside was not like Otley Chevin near Leeds! Other problems included having to get the security guard to dispose of a snake found in our bathroom whilst our six month old son slept next door; a similar experience on an island in Lake Baringo when a snake disappeared down the plughole of the shower in our tented accommodation; and getting stuck in our vehicle on the mudflats of Lake Nakuru where the pink flamingos congregate and being helped out by a lorry full of locals.

Other memories that stand out: Christmas day sat outside a packed Nairobi Baptist church in the sunshine; eating crocodile as a main course at the local restaurant, The Carnivore (not that great!); attending the All Africa Games in Nairobi in 1987; my wife working as a nursery nurse with a multinational range of children to look after.

My work which kept me well occupied as an accountant and consultant was mainly banks, hotels and leisure industry businesses etc. in both Nairobi and Mombasa.

However all good things come to an end and by March 1988; our time was up. We could have stayed on longer but my head ruled my heart. The country was quite rightly appointing more Kenyans to senior positions so my career progression was best served back in the UK. We had arrived in the country 2 years earlier. We had our first child there and looking forward his education was probably best served in the UK.

Smiling faces, great weather, spectacular scenery, good sports facilities, friends made, poverty witnessed at close hand, naivety experienced on more than one occasion all made for a myriad of different memories. In all an exhilarating 2 years in Nairobi, and a period of time we wouldn’t have missed for the world.