Homa Bay’s bad roads aside, this pub offers beautiful nights

This story has significance for readers across Kenya and beyond.

Homa Bay is in the news for having terrible roads. The Mbita-Sindo road is atrocious, yes. I have a home seven kilometres from where the tarmac ends at Icipe in Mbita and normally have to endure an excruciating 20-minute drive to my little abode, which is a shame because the area is beautiful.

At night, the lake lights up like a city, with the lamps of fishermen out in their boats. Currently, though, it is dry as a bone and leaves carry cakes of dust. Days are hot and stuffy and, because that main artery is dusty and full of rocks, it feels like an oven should you find yourself out there at noon.

Normally I like to take a walk to digest my dinner. Last week, Lady and I walked out just before sunset. After a 20 min walk up a hill that rolls down to Sindo, we followed the music to a bar called Palace Lounge, set in a big compound.

They were playing ajawa, local Luo music, inside the main bar, which featured some booths, plastic tables and chairs. There was some flashy lighting. Young local boys shared small bottles of spirits and occasionally stood up to dance in very coordinated, crouchy, slow rhythms.

“Everybody can dance in this part of Kenya,” Lady said. “It seems it’s only you who can’t dance.” I tend to ignore salacious statements.

There was a very natural, unrestrained air about the place. Everybody was having the kind of fun they knew. These were men who worked with their hands and were now rewarding themselves. Nobody seemed to be performing. The music was loud, the dancing beautifully lazy as it should.

Outside, on a patio of sorts, sat a group of made-up girls who looked very badass, the crème de la crème of the village. They had their own massive Bluetooth speaker, listening to their own music, occasionally looking over at the men inside with detached amusement.

There was something natural about it. No curated playlists. No mixologists. No artisanal anything. Just music, modest spirits and people who had finished the day's work and decided, quite reasonably, that life owed them a little tune.

We had not carried our phones, so when it was time to leave, I told the waiter, who had never set eyes on me before, to take my number. I would send him the money for the bottle of water when I got home.

He did not hesitate. Could never have happened in Nairobi.

Reporting originally appeared via Business Daily. Read the full source for additional context.