by My friend Violet knows I have a special talent for inviting myself to things. When I asked to visit her farm in Kakamega, Kenya, she graciously welcomed me to stay with her family. When she mentioned she’d be harvesting honey, I eagerly invited myself again, this time for a hands-on experience I’d always dreamed of. Philepe, a local beekeeper, had planned to demonstrate the honey-harvesting process for Pepetwa Farms’ upcoming conference and needed to harvest her honey in advance. We both were giddy, like kids on the first day of school, wanting to learn the process. The honey gathering would take place in the evening when the bees are less active. As I suited up in the dark, I noticed the farm glowing with fireflies, something I hadn’t seen since childhood. I paused to take it all in; here I was, in rural Kenya, learning to harvest honey beneath a sky lit by nature’s own twinkle lights. It felt like pure magic.
As we prepared the smokers, a few raindrops began to fall across the farm. I hoped it would hold off until we were finished. We quickly made our way to the hives, and I realized that my hair was full of static and sticking to the netting on my face shield. I couldn’t unzip to adjust it, so I kept fumbling blindly with my gloved hands. It wasn’t ideal, but I made it work, I wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. (Note: if you wear a bee suit, tie your hair back always!) I was mesmerized by the process. I watched Philepe (up close) gently lift the wooden slates, each one heavy with golden honeycomb and alive with movement. The bees clung fiercely, defending their creation with instinct and grace. Soon, they were crawling across our suits like tiny guardians. I wasn’t afraid, instead, I felt oddly honored by their presence.
John, who was documenting the experience with his camera, didn’t have a full suit. No gloves meant a few painful stings, but he powered through. Halfway through the process, the rain fell heavier, and John had to hide his camera under a banana tree. Once the last comb was collected, Philepe signaled for everyone to sprint back to the farmhouse. Back Inside, we couldn’t wait to try the honeycomb. I bit into mine and immediately got stung on the lip by a hiding bee. But honestly, the sweet, warm honey made it worth it, tasting like liquid gold. I laughed at my impatience tho, that’s what I get for skipping the purification step!
We had asked our motorcycle drivers to kindly wait until the harvest was over to take us home. By this point, the dirt roads had turned into a muddy mess. The bikes come equipped with umbrellas, standard for Kenya’s rainy season. But the slippery roads made the ride tricky. It’s common in Kakamega to have up to 4 people on one bike. John and I shared a bike with our driver who struggled with both of us on the back. At one point, we started sliding downhill. We jumped off quickly to help the driver regain balance. After a short, soggy walk, he felt confident enough to continue. We hopped back on and made our way home, soaked and laughing. It was an exciting ending to a very exciting night! Back at the house, none of us could fall asleep right away. We were buzzing (pun intended) from the magic of the night; the bees, the fireflies, the honey, the rain and our comedic events! I felt so lucky to be part of it all, because these magical little creatures stole my heart.
