The hill in Lamu island.
It is said that once upon a time there lived a really proud and arrogant people in Lamu. They were of the Pokomo tribe.
Having been blessed with material wealth including herds of cattle they misused the wealth to the point of using milk as an after toilet wash instead of water. Imagine people cleaning their arses with milk. There arrogance was up the moon.
The story has it that the gods got angry with them. One early morning before dawn it rained. Not cats and dogs, naaaa. It rained sand. The wrath of the gods poured all morning.
The sand which had pilled up to form a hill barred their doors from opening neither could they escape through the roof. They were buried alive. Themselves, their houses, their cattle, milk and even their toilets.
And they were no more.
I am not sure what to think of the story. But if it ever happened the simple explanation from a scientific view point: the sand rain was probably a product of volcano eruption somewhere in the ocean. Not the wrath of the gods as the locals believe.
The hill still stands tall in Lamu island, along the sea front. And very time visitors walk past it or climb up, the story is told and re-told.
Every town has got a story.
Beka's journal 