The picture above, of Kaptagat farmhouse, was painted by one of the Kirkaldy family, close friends of the Fosters.

When I was about seven, my father met Zoe Foster, the wife of Hugh Foster who farmed at Kaptagat, about sixteen miles from Eldoret. She told him that she and her husband were planning to start a school in their home under the governess they had for their children.  About twelve children in all would stay at the farm as boarders for the term.

I was duly enrolled and went for my first term to Kaptagat Farm where I met their eldest daughter Neville. Meeting the Foster family was to change my life completely. 

Mr and Mrs MT Young, known as Chris and MT were to run the school when it was built. I don’t remember how they came on the scene or where  they lived – possibly on the farm.

We slept in the various rooms dotted about the dark old farmhouse and did lessons in the sittingroom and on the verandah at a big oval table. The walls surrounding us were decorated with the stuffed and mounted trophies of Hugh Foster’s various hunting safaris; kudu, impala, waterbuck, buffalo and more. Two huge ivory tusks curved up each side of the door and all the sofas and chairs were strewn with leopard, deer and cheetah skins.The garden was beautiful and Zoe had four or five gardeners working under her who created flowerbeds full of colour. Borders and lawns swept down to a long river frontage which provided endless pleasure to us children.

I appreciated this all much more in later years but at this early stage I only remember my time at lessons and my inability to understand why I was treated so badly. Of course, this wasn’t really true, it was just that I was so unused to doing anything I didn’t want to. I remember one incident during morning prayers which were taken by Chris Young in the sittingroom. I was idly fondling the ears of the golden cocker spaniel and took no notice when told to stop and pay attention. Mrs Young then came over and took the dog from me and started to carry her outside. Furious, I jumped up and seizing a tennis racquet that happened to be handy, I chased after her and belaboured her backside with my weapon. I was carried screaming and kicking and put to bed. There were probably many such incidents – it was all a fog of unhappy bewilderment from my point of view. This should be a lesson to any parent – don’t spoil your children!  Neville, two years my senior, was my close friend. I will never understand why we became so attached. I, of course, must have been thoroughly disliked by the other children, so naturally I clung to the one who never criticised me. But why she stayed my friend, I can only guess. She was shy, obedient and gentle, everything I was not, and she followed my lead in all our games. I would make up stories which we would act out somewhere in the huge garden whenever we had time away from lessons. Because my father and Rene both worked, except for a few weekends at home in Eldoret, I spent the holidays at Kaptagat.

During this year the Fosters were building a school on part of the farm. The Youngs were to be installed as Head teachers and pupils recruited from all over Kenya and Uganda (a climate considered unhealthy for young children).In due course, all this came about and was, I expect, a good business venture.

About 60 children moved into the new school and I was, sadly, one of these boarders and parted from the immediate company of my dear friend Neville. She was a day girl, still living in the farmhouse with her family, and being two years my senior, was in the class above me. Robert and Francis also attended. Neville and I met after lessons and during breaks and were quite inseparable.

At the weekends, Neville would invite me over to her home and we would have a wonderful time until Sunday evening. The Fosters had some part in building a hotel, The Kaptagat Arms, not far away which had a small golf course and a polo field. I can’t remember when all these things came into being but they all became part of the life I lived with the Foster family.

My father had married Rene, who was by now Matron of the local hospital, so it really suited them for me to live at Kaptagat where I had such a wonderful life on the farm.

Zoe was constantly being brought small wild creatures, orphaned by hunters or just brought in to sell to her. We had colobus, other monkeys, little duikers and oribi to be bottle fed – most of them didn’t survive long. Two young cheetahs, Peter and Phyllis, lived in a long wire-netted compound but were tame enough to be brought on to the front lawn with collars and leads and be played with and stroked. ‘The Priest’ (a full grown ground hornbill) was known for miles around.   He was quite a fierce bird and terrorised many children.He lived on the farm and was well fed, happy and free and never left – Kaptagat School was perceived as part of his territory. He would turn up outside the three little wooden lavatories, in a grove at the back of the school, and once someone was inside with the door locked, he would hammer with his beak on the door, announcing his presence, and they would remain prisoner until an older child chased him off.

We had a wonderful bird – a whale-headed stork or shoebill, which came from Uganda. He was blue grey in colour and many visitors to the garden would think he was a statue because he would stand quite still for hours on end. He never responded to anyone except Hugh Foster. When he saw Hugh he would half unfurl his wings and bow his head up and down, making a tremendous clatter with his great beak which was shaped like an upside-down clog. At times we had kavirondo cranes and a battleur eagle with one eye, known as Nelson. Mongooses roamed the farm and lived in the house. They were a great nuisance at night, often finding their way into one’s bed and nipping  one’s toes in a friendly way. Another night-disturber was a bush baby that we had for a while.  No matter how many times you hurled it towards the open window, it was never bothered and would be back, clutching you round the neck and giving you love nibbles.

Some very young creatures required careful nursing. After I’d left school but was living with the Fosters, there was an occasion when we had a baby colobus. It’s dark little old man’s face peered out from snow white curls which covered it’s whole body. It slept in Neville’s doll’s pram between our beds, on a hot water bottle and had to be fed twice during the night. Sadly this little monkey came to a dreadful end. We had to go away to a polo match up-country and could not leave him behind as he needed so much attention. We were given sleeping accommodation in a rondavel (a round thatched hut) and we left the little monkey on a cushion on the floor near the bed. When we returned from having dinner with our hosts we found that he had been eaten by safari ants. It was quite dreadful to think how he must have suffered, there was nothing left but fur and bones.  

My very close friendship with Neville made for all kinds of difficulties at Kaptagat School. Mrs Young thought that it was unhealthy for us to be so close and hardly mixing with other pupils. Of course there were long times of the day when we were involved in general school activities with other pupils. There were some particularly memorable terms such as the one when the Foster family caught whooping cough and were immediately isolated on the farm. This did not suit Neville and me one bit so we contrived to meet behind the Eucalyptus Grove each day and she would breathe on me while I inhaled with much gusto – and me inevitably catching whooping cough and spreading it to the whole school. It was, in fact, a fairly serious illness and I remember having my whole chest encased in flannel coated with antiphlogistine paste which was heated before being spread on the flannel with a knife. One coughed and coughed and then drew in a long, rasping breath which gave it the name of whooping cough. I can remember lying on my bed and looking out of the window at children in the playground, dozens of whom were coughing themselves into paroxysms and rolling about on the ground which often caused vomiting as well. I wonder if anyone knew that I was possibly the cause of all this trouble – or perhaps it was nothing to do with me at all.

Neville and I had very few toys but we played for hours in the garden, making up stories as we went along. When Neville stayed with me in Eldoret I remember we had two sticks called Michael and Jack and we had a great many adventures with them. We took them to the dentist, which involved boring a hole in the side of a Blue Gum and then filling the hole with plastacine. Sometimes we were two sisters who had long hair in pigtails (a cardigan over our heads with the sleeves hanging down as plaits). Out at Kaptagat, with its huge beautiful garden, there was ample room for imaginative games.

Another event which I remember well was the sudden illness of another friend of mine, Molly Afford. She had been on holiday to Mombasa and on her return went into hospital and was diagnosed with poliomyelitis.

My stepmother Rene was  matron of the  hospital in Eldoret and  had a lot to do with her nursing. Molly was in a wheelchair for the rest of her life but was one of the sunniest gutsy girls I knew. She went on to train as a technician in a laboratory and worked with the veterinary services. She married and, against the doctor’s advice, had  three children (all by caesarean section). 

Next: 1937