Lawo thum, how to get on a boat to party

I remember the very first time I used Lake Victoria as a means of transport. It wasn’t your typical journey. It started as a random plan with friends after work. It was a Saturday and we had just left work and all we wanted was to unwind. So instead of the usual hangout spot, someone suggested, “Why don’t we get on a boat?” That’s how we found ourselves pooling funds and boarding a hired cruise boat.

It wasn’t just a ride, it was a whole experience. We brought food and drinks, and as the boat left the shores of Kiboko Bay behind, it felt like we were stepping into another world. After an hour of cruising, we stopped in the middle of nowhere. I still remember how magical it felt, the moment the boat went still, the water around us calm. We sat there, floating, eating and sipping our drinks. The sun was setting by the time we returned to shore, and I remember thinking: “Wow, I need to do this again.”

The second time I used lake transport was even more special. It was during Christmas, and my husband surprised me with a trip to Rusinga Island. We drove from Kisumu to Luanda Kotieno, and from there, we took a speedboat to Homa Bay. That speedboat ride was something else. The boat moved so fast, bouncing over the waves, throwing us up slightly and then back down. I remember screaming and laughing at the same time. It was wild, exciting, and honestly, one of the most fun rides I’ve ever had. Within fifteen minutes, we had crossed a large swathe of the lake and arrived in Homa Bay.

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From Homa Bay, we boarded a water bus to Rusinga Island. Now, the water bus was a totally different experience. Unlike the speedboat, the water bus was spacious, slow and steady. It was also crowded, filled with families, traders, and travelers. The seats were arranged like those on a train. For anyone who’s scared of water, I’d say the water bus is the best option. Because you’re surrounded by many people, you somehow feel safer. I’d say it’s the kind of ride that connects you with the daily life of people around the lake. I loved every bit of this experience and I recall taking so many photos on the water bus.

We spent three amazing nights at Rusinga. The island was calm, the calm that makes you want to breathe in slowly and just take it all in. I remember us sitting by the lake having breakfast and it felt heavenly. At night the magic continued, we had dinner by the water with candles and lanterns softly lighting the space and all you could hear was the gentle lap of the water on the shore. It felt as if the lake was whispering stories.

And when it was time to sleep, it got even better. The sound of the water outside was soothing. It felt like the water was singing a lullaby just for us.

Unfortunately, we had to cut our stay short due to a few things that came up. We were meant to travel the next morning but plans changed and we found ourselves leaving late in the evening instead. The journey back is what left a lasting impression on me. It was around 5.45 p.m., and by that time all waterbuses and speedboats had left. The only option left was a small, traditional wooden boat, the kind that rocks slightly when you step in. And just like that, there we were, myself, my husband, and two rowers who looked way too relaxed for what awaited ahead. No life jackets, just wooden paddles and confidence.

I remember glancing at my husband like, “ Are we really doing this?” and he gave me that brave smile. You know the kind of smile that says, “ Well, you insisted we leave tonight, so here we are.” And just like that we pushed off into the deep blue pretending that everything was normal.

And then my husband … bless him . . . decided it was the perfect time to share a story. He told me about a group of young boys who once used a similar boat to go clubbing across the lake. In Luo we call it “ lawo thum”. Among them was a very young boy, barely a teenager. On their way back, they reached the deeper part of the lake and, using a stick to check the depth, realized they were far from shore. The water got rough, they panicked, and sadly, the boat capsized. Only the youngest boy survived. He held onto the boat and floated all night, washing up on shore the next morning.

He told me that story while I sat in that same kind of boat, on the same kind of lake, with waves splashing into the boat. I couldn’t help but wonder, was this a sign? Should I say my last prayer?

But thank God, we finally made it ashore, wet and shaken. My husband paid the rowers and they got ready to head into the same moody lake. I couldn’t help but ask, “Will you be safe going back in this weather?” They both chuckled and one of them said, “This lake is our home, if we feared it, we’d never eat.”

After this experience on the lake, you might wonder: Have I ever gotten back into a boat? Have I ever used lake transport again? The answer is simple: Yes! Not once. Not twice. I have boarded the ferry, hopped onto another boat and cruised those waters again and again. There’s just something about the lake that keeps calling me back, and I keep answering. Would I do it all over again? Without a doubt; I already have.