It is early morning in Kakamega County, western Kenya, and the air buzzes with anticipation. In a homestead yard, a hulking bull named Shakahola stands contentedly chewing fresh Napier grass. His owner, Josphat Milimo, watches closely as he adds water and a secret blend of traditional herbs to fortify the animal for the challenge ahead.
With a gentle nudge, Milimo leads Shakahola into the back of a waiting truck. Supporters squeeze in around him, forming a colorful convoy that rumbles toward the local bullfighting arena. Motorcycles weave between vehicles, their riders honking and shouting in excitement.
In western Kenya, bullfighting remains a testament to age-old customs. While less known internationally than its Spanish counterpart, these matches are a deeply rooted test of strength, strategy, and respect between man and beast. At the arena, bulls lock horns in brief but dramatic clashes, cheered on by crowds waving flags and singing folk songs.
For residents of Kakamega, these events are more than just entertainment. They are social gatherings where families reconnect, local vendors sell grilled maize and handcrafted beads, and stories of past champions are exchanged under acacia trees. Each bull has a name, a lineage, and a team of supporters who see every match as a point of pride.
In recent years, the tradition has caught the eye of adventurous travelers and digital nomads seeking authentic cultural experiences off the usual tourist trail. Instagram and TikTok videos spotlight the morning rituals, the dusty roads leading to the arena, and the thunderous roar of the crowd—turning local heroes like Josphat and Shakahola into viral sensations.
Despite its growing visibility, the core of Kakamega's bullfighting lies in community spirit. From the whispered counsel of elders on herb mixtures to the booming chants that echo at sunset, each match is a living tapestry of heritage, camaraderie, and the timeless bond between humans and animals.
Reference(s):
cgtn.com
