Source: the Star
In books, magazines and even on the Internet, there are countless photos of red-faced, weather-beaten mountain climbers often pictured straddling the summit of some mountain while grinning, almost maniacally, from ear to ear.

Why do people make such a big deal out of mountain climbing? Apparently, it is one the most rigorous outdoor physical activities that can really do a number on a person's endurance levels. The maniacal look is often thanks to the ravages endured and these range from diarrhoea and projectile vomiting to acute oedema where climbers exhibit 'wild' behaviour and staggering movements similar to those of a drunk person.

Last month being the month dedicated to women's rights, a campaign to curb gender-based violence was celebrated from March 5-9 on Mt Kilimanjaro where a total of 73 climbers attempted to scale the highest mountain in Africa. Only six made it to the summit, among them the Kenyan representative Ann Njogu of the Centre for Rights Education Awareness. The campaign, dubbed "Africa Unite: Climb Up, Speak Out" had participants from all over the globe. As such, many, if not all of the participants, were in one way or another acting as representatives of different fields be it government, the private sector and even the clergy.

Statistics by Fida show that more often than not, when a woman fails to show up for work, it is likely as a result of domestic violence, says Njogu. Thus, before the actual climb, a stakeholders meeting was held at Uhuru Park in Nairobi where participants symbolically climbed up the steps of the monument in exemplification of the steps that need be taken to curb violence especially against women. The Kenyan steering committee met with Prime Minister Raila Odinga who endorsed the Kenyan delegation to Tanzania and the PM in addition handed over the flag to be mounted upon the summit. Though he did not make the climb himself, Tanzanian President Jakaya Kikwete 'escorted' the climbers a distance up the mountain before turning back. In Njogu's opinion, Kikwete's presence demonstrated the commitment of an African president in ending gender-based violence.

Approximately 22,000 climbers attempt to reach the snow-covered summit every year. Many suffer mountain sickness leading to around 1,000 evacuations and on average about 10 people die on the mountain each year. Tennis star Martina Navratilova was two years ago hospitalised in Kenya with an accumulation of fluid in her lungs after suffering from high-altitude pulmonary oedema while climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. These are the daunting statistics Njogu faced while researching online days before the actual climb.

She says: "I almost pulled out at the last minute because I kept on thinking, 'What if I die on that mountain and become a statistic? What will happen to my two children?' The more I researched the more I got cold feet."

Voicing out her fears to her staff at CREAW, Njogu surprisingly found in them her own personal cheering squad. "They reminded me, in so many ways, how climbing that mountain was something that was beyond me as an individual. They reminded me that my climbing of Mount Kilimanjaro was about representing our organisation, our country and more importantly the women of our country." Thus, on March 5, while prepping with some light exercises at the foot of the mountain, Njogu replayed in her mind her staff's encouraging words. Her resolve was further bolstered when the Kenyan flag which had been delayed in Nairobi with the Kenyan delegation was finally brought to her at the foot of the mountain.

An earlier talk with the guides had enlightened Njogu and the 72 other climbers on what to expect while climbing. Aside from involuntary bowel movements, pulmonary oedema was on the cards as well – the condition in which fluid accumulating in the lungs leads to respiratory failure and is among the causes of death while mountain climbing.

"Oxygen thins out the closer you get to top," Njogu explains. "I saw people lose control over their bowels and soil their clothes. It happens in an instant and there's not much you can do about it except keep taking water because water contains a lot of oxygen." Ironically, drinking more water ultimately means peeing a lot more and this proved quite the challenge in the intermittent peeling off the six or so layers of clothing every time the urge to urinate arose. Modern toilet facilities are something else climbers have to do without while on the trail. Thus the behind-a-bush 'toilet' spaces often revealed ants and other creepy crawlies inhabitant on Mount Kilimanjaro.

A retired army official known by many simply as General Serakike has climbed Mount Kilimanjaro at least 38 times in his lifetime. The 78-year-old has especially made a point of climbing the mountain after every decade since his 40th birthday and many more times in between the years. However, like President Kikwete, General Serakike did not climb up the mountain with the 73 climbers of the the Africa Unite campaign. He instead chose to lend his support by 'escorting' the participant climbers and thus made friends with Njogu. "I kept thinking, if he [Serakike] has made it up the mountain, and several times at that, then I too can make it."

On Day One up the mountain, the climbers walked through hailstones and settled down for the night at Mandara Huts – a cluster of solar-powered wooden bunkers some 9000ft above sea level. Njogu shared one of these huts with three other climbers from South Africa, Nigeria and Sierra Leone. "After our first night on the mountain, I remember asking my bunk-mates how and where they had freshened up for the morning and all I got back was blank stares," says Njogu with tongue-in-cheek. "We made do with a basic French bath for the next four days" .

Day Two involved an 11-kilometre walk to Horombo Hut some 12,200 feet above sea level. The steaming cup of coffee and cereal that came with the 6am wake is the only sustenance in facing the windy, chilly climb to Kibo summit which is 15,500 plus feet above sea level.

According to Njogu, Day Three is a day when "things start happening". The high-altitude combined with the effects of the rigorous two days worth of steady climbing is enough to make the faint-hearted turn back. From Horombo, Kibo looks to be, as the phrase goes, 'just around the corner' but like a mirage on a hot day, it moves farther the closer you get. The guides had earlier advised the climbers to count their steps up to a hundred and then repeat the entire process from one as a way to stay motivated. "Counting to a hundred wasn't working for me so I started saying the rosary instead". The familiarity in the words brought on a sense of comfort which helped boost her walk up to Kibo. Njogu got heartburn on her walk up to Kibo and for this she was given Diamox – a diuretic medication that increases the rate of urination. She however pushed on and made it to Kibo by 7pm where she and other climbers had about two to three hours of sleep before waking up at 11pm for the 'final assault' - the final lap to the mountain top.

With four to six layers of clothing on and six pairs of socks on both feet, Njogu and other climbers set out in the below temperate weather of negative 17 degrees Celsius. Climbers were urged to walk in single file and in a zig zag manner due to the steeper terrain now covered in snow. The chill and wind persisted as Njogu's party met other climbers coming down the mountain. Some of the men and women in the other party were in her words, "crying, vomiting and diarrheaing)". She remarks, "Funny how we all cry for our mothers when we are in trouble. I saw grown men literally crying for their mothers! I didn't look at them for too long because I didn't want to get discouraged". But when she looked ahead and saw how far she still had to go, she couldn't help but feel down until the guides reminded them to look back instead at how far they have come for some inspiration to go on with the climb. Among the climbers coming down was a Moroccan lady who happened to know other Moroccans in Njogu's party. "She was so discouraged but then the Moroccans in my group gave her a bar of chocolate and a pep talk and she turned right back and started climbing up again until she was way ahead of us in no time."

At Gilman's Point, "everybody was crying", adds Njogu. "I sat down with the others, tired to the bone! But then I told the guides to take me up higher because I just had to mount the Kenyan flag at the topmost peak. They refused at first but fortunately there was a Kenyan guide in the group. He had seniority over two guides and so they eventually agreed to take me up."

Getting to the peak is a steep affair. One misstep and you can fall into the crater below. At some point, although close to the top, Njogu almost gave up. She pleaded with the guides to take her back down but they were having none of it. "They told me, 'You've come this far so you might as well finish what you started'". And so with two guys holding her up, one under each arm, she took the final tired steps to the peak.

"When I got to the top I had mixed emotions. I couldn't talk. I couldn't cry. It hit me then that the whole journey was essentially mind over matter. I had made it to the top and that in itself was a big deal." The 2km distance from Gilman's Point to the final peak took three hours. "Its absolutely beautiful at the top. Looking down the crater I realised its all a fusion of earth, wind and fire. Everything is in perfect harmony. Perfect synchrony. And even if you don't believe in God, you cannot come down that mountain the same person." The fact that the whole expedition was based on ending gender-based violence made the experience all the more profound for Njogu.

The drama, so to speak, begins while climbing down the mountain. "Walking down is harder than climbing up. I was convinced I had pneumonia "because I'd be breathing through my mouth out of exhaustion. When I finally sat down again at Gilman's I didn't want to get up. I was sick, tired, hungry and I wanted my mother!"

Noticing the change in her disposition, the guide offered some biscuits which she promptly refused until they gently convinced her to take just one. "I ended up having three biscuits! Afterwards, I realised my exhaustion was largely due to hunger." Thus, re-energised, Njogu made her way down the slopes where they met, slouched alarmingly on a boulder, a senior Tanzanian official who had collapsed from fatigue. She recognised him as having been among the few that made it to to the summit. Unlike the celebrities and some high level International NGO staffers who had earlier demanded to be evacuated by choppers (which is impossible on a mountain!) when they could not climb up any further, the Tanzanian official had pushed on to the top. "He didn't even want us to talk to him and kept asking us to leave him alone and go away. But we stayed and I told him how my energy levels sprung up after I eaten some biscuits. Eventually, after much convincing, he agreed to eat some biscuits." Further down the slope, they encountered yet another high-level NGO official, this time, a woman, become rather abusive when they tried to coax her down the mountain. As a senior official used to getting her way, "She threatened to have the guides fired!" Ann adds. "She was exhausted and didn't want anyone to touch her but the guards had no choice but to grab a hold of her and take her down the mountain." She likely would have frozen to death had they not intervened.

Apparently, older people are more likely than younger people to make it to the summit. Reason: Unlike older people, the younger generation want to get it over and done quickly so they do not pace themselves. Thus, the secret to successful mountain climbing lies in slow walking. "Changing mindsets on gender violence is pretty much the same way, you've got to tackle it slowly," affirms Njogu, adding that of all battery cases reported, 99.6 per cent are usually against women. "The .4per cent should not be ignored but I agree that available resources should be channeled more to where it is needed most."

When asked by her 17-year old son Ted what the mountain climbing experience had been like, she told him, "It's like giving birth to a child everyday for a whole month". She laughed when Ted then replied, 'If that's the case, I'm never having children!' but later explained to him how the whole mountain-climbing experience had been worthwhile. "It's the toughest thing I ever did. It was so hard!" she says of the three days it took to climb up and the one day it took to come down. "But I think it's something every person should try doing in their lifetime."

• Kenya