After coup hiccups, first foreign trip to Nairobi spells great success

It was 1982. After 30 years of standing under Indian floodlights, we were finally bound for our first international experience. For all the artistes, including me, it was the first-ever trip to a foreign land. And so what if it was not London, Paris, Rome or New York! Our first step outside Hindustan was to be Nairobi. Well, at least, we were going West. And that was exciting enough!

Our host was a very well-versed and influential Gujarati businessman, Navinbhai Trivedi. I had assembled my best Parsi actors with a couple of Gujarati stars for the trip. Everyone in theatreland who was not selected was envious! The tickets and the visas arrived. It was a late night flight by Kenya Airways and we were ready to leave home for the airport, our children bidding us farewell as per Parsi tradition — a teaspoon of sugar and a sip of water. And then the phone rang. Who could be calling at that hour? I took the call and my face dropped. I could barely utter the words I had just heard: 'Tour cancelled. Don’t travel. Will call later.' Call later! This was a Greek tragedy and he said he would call later! Our first priority was to inform everyone. Terribly disappointed, we could hardly sleep that night. Next day we read in the newspaper 'Coup in Nairobi. Rebels seize the airport and take over the city.' Our hosts reassured us the next day that the tour would happen once the the rebellion settled. Six months later we finally boarded Kenya Airways. We landed at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, a huge poster announcing 'Welcome to the Green City under the Sun'.

Nairobi then was like mini-India only much more posh with a huge Gujarati diaspora, all well settled.

We were greeted at the airport, and ushered to a 10-seater luxurious Land Rover. Having travelled in only Fiats and Ambassadors, this was a whole new experience. The British had ruled East Africa for long and we could see their influence in the clean streets.It was a very different feeling being in a foreign country where it seemed the official langue was Gujarati and the national dish a Gujarati thali. Well, almost!

Kenya National Theatre was a spacious 600-seat theatre with all the modern amenities. We opened with a laugh riot titled Buddha-e-mari-Boundary (The old man hits a four). It was about an elderly couple expecting a new arrival after a gap of 22 years! It was a huge success and wowed the audience who gave us a standing ovation. Navinbhai was very pleased and we were the toast of Nairobi with people recognising us on the streets, waving at us as we shopped. We were hosted by billionaire Gujarati families — the Lalit Pundits, the Manu Chanderias etc — in their palatial mansions.

Navinbhai took us one evening after the show to a casino. We had never experienced a casino before. We were awestruck. All the smartly dressed men and women, the noisy areas and the hush rooms, wads of green, champagne flowing freely. My wife and I settled at the slot machines and scooted soon, having lost the 100 shillings that we had agreed to risk!

And so ended our first week in Narobi, a heady success, recognition, great hospitality and rides in Land Rovers! Waving our cheerios like rock stars, off we went to our next stop: Mombasa.

The author is a well-known stage personality