THE BIRTH OF ITEN VIEWPOINT

 By Hillary Kosgey Arap Masut

The Iten Viewpoint did not exist before the tarmacking of the Iten Tambach road. What people today casually call Viewpoint was once a dangerous, uninhabited and rocky natural place. In those days, the only marker at that spot was a huge precolonial and colonial era DANGER sign. The warning existed because of the sheer cliff that drops sharply toward the Nyawa and Anin directions, a silent alert to travellers, locals and adventurous wanderers of the peril that lay ahead.

In my upcoming memoir book, I will explain the real source and meaning of the name ITEN, a name originally given by our ancestors. It is completely untrue to claim that Iten was named after Joseph Thomson’s Hill Ten or that the name simply means hill number 10. That narrative is false. The true origin of the name lies in the giant rock beside the present day Viewpoint site, a landmark that predates colonial mapping and continues to define the place.

From my research and lived memory, Iten Viewpoint was born on the very day the road itself was conceived. The road design and groundbreaking took place in February 1983, at a time when contractor materials were being tested and surveyed. Actual construction work that ultimately gave birth to the Viewpoint began in 1984. This was a serious civil engineering undertaking involving 3 entities, TMC, an Indian construction company and a German consultancy firm known as HB Graff. The shaping of the road and landscape was therefore a product of combined local and international expertise.

During these works, an original acacia tree that stood at the site was cleared to allow the road to pass. Today, visitors see a giant acacia tree at the Viewpoint restaurant, but this is not the original one. When you stand there now and look closely, you are looking at the successor of what once stood in the way of progress. The intention of the engineers at the time was straightforward. They planned to blast the rocky outcrop to create space for the road and move on.

However, among the engineering team was one individual who saw something more than rock and danger. He imagined a future where this precarious ledge could become a spectacular viewing area overlooking Kapnorok Lake and the Kerio Valley. Instead of total destruction by blasting, he proposed carefully carving the rocks, filling the crevices with stone and preserving the natural vantage point. Through persistence and persuasion, he convinced his colleagues to adopt this alternative vision. Many thanks are owed to that local engineer whose foresight permanently changed the story of this place.

The idea was accepted, and the earliest form of the Viewpoint was born. It was modest at first, marked by a simple umbrella tin structure. There was no shop initially, but one later appeared. I remember Raphael, Ernest and Phillip selling there in the late 1980s, during a time when few people had any reason to go to the Viewpoint. On many Sundays, only 3 or 4 people would be found there, as the place was still discovering its identity. At that time, no one spoke about altitude. Few people knew that the Viewpoint stood at 2359 metres above sea level. Those were the days when St Patricks Iten, under Brother Colm and Marcellus, quietly understood that altitude was a God given gift for producing some of the greatest athletes the world would ever know.

The original acacia had been cleared, but a new one sprouted about 2 years later, around 1987, after the road had been completed in 1986. This Sesiet tree, known locally in the Keiyo language and botanically identified as Acacia tortilis, the umbrella thorn, is approximately 38 years old. Its ancestor was likely carried there unintentionally, its seed dropped with sand spilled from lorries during road construction in the early 1980s. This is not its natural habitat, yet it took root and endured.

This tree has witnessed everything. It has seen the Viewpoint evolve into a beloved holiday road trip destination, especially during December festivities. In those days, a crowd of about 30 people was considered a full Viewpoint. There was usually only a single photographer, either Tom or Phillip, taking one family or group photograph at a time. Photographs were considered expensive then. The main attractions were simple but unforgettable. We watched rock hyraxes, which are now rarely seen, and threw bottle tops down the escarpment, only to watch them return like boomerangs. To us, they were our own handmade marvels.

Back then, the Viewpoint was attractive yet uncrowded, nothing like the busy place it can be today. A single pub sold drinks, and one of my friends, Kiprono Con as we called him, would sing Dolly Parton tunes as he enjoyed Tusker Export lager, beer after beer. He was a dear and gentle man. May his soul rest in peace. On Christmas days, the Viewpoint was where we went to relax, sharing sachet Smirnoff and Popov vodka in halves or quarters mixed with soda, taking photographs and lingering into the evening.

As we enjoyed ourselves, the Iten Rock always watched over us, as it has done for millions of years, standing majestically against time. The Iten Rock is most likely how Iten got its name. Our ancestors climbed it to communicate with people in the lower valley. The rock appears to hang on nothing, yet it has remained steadfast for millennia.

Iten is a cold place, and because the Viewpoint is so open, the evening chill settles in quickly. Eventually, we would retreat back to Iten town for warmer drinks. If there is one living thing that could understand all these memories, it is this Sesiet tree. It has silently observed the transformation from DANGER to destination.

Today, more than 42 years after the first groundbreaking, Iten Viewpoint stands as a place that was once marked only by warning and fear. It has become a stopping point for revelers and travellers who come to admire the magnificent Great Rift Valley from an altitude of 2359 metres above sea level. What was once called DANGER is now known as the Iten Viewpoint.