Memoirs of Akbar Hashemi – September 4, 1996

Night and day are close together here, because it is only two degrees below the equator. The weather is spring-like. It also rained last night. They have more than a thousand millimeters of rain a year. After the prayer, completing my memoirs, studying, and listening to the news and breakfast, we set off in our own planes toward the port city of Mombasa. The host country's plane, which usually must be used for domestic trips, was small and propeller-driven.

At Mombasa Airport, the officials and the people gave a warm welcome with an anthem and dance; especially the Muslims of the city were very cordial and had celebrated. From there we set off toward the city's refinery. On the way, on both sides of the road, crowds of people had lined up and were expressing affection. Contrary to custom and usual practice, I sat in the front seat. On entering the refinery, too, choirs and dance groups of children welcomed us with drums and the dhol. As in Iran, little girls present bouquets.

The refinery's management, a British man, gave a report on the situation. With a capacity of 60 thousand barrels a day, with old technology—35 years old—with the Kenyan company and three companies, Shell and Esso, they practically work at 60 percent of capacity. A quarter of the refinery's crude oil must be obtained from Iran. I asked many questions, which surprised those present at my technical knowledge. Because they had proposed that Iran also become a partner, we visited the various sections, including the control room, which has recently been modernized. We planted a tree, signed a book, heard a welcome, and gave a reply. Effat and her companions were also there.

We went to the port of Mombasa. There too there was a warm welcome. Their choir group was a large number of Black women. They had composed an anthem especially for me and Iran and performed it well. I too stood and listened to the whole anthem. The Minister of Transport offered his welcome and added that he had come to Iran for the inauguration ceremony of the Sarakhs–Tajan railway and had met me. The port's manager, a Swiss engineer, also gave a report on the port; the port is very old and practically came into being at the time of the Portuguese arrival in a very suitable creek; with a narrow entrance strait, in places up to forty meters deep, it does not need dredging. The port's capacity is eight million tons and the berthing of ships up to 150 thousand tons. The limitation is because of the narrowness and shallow depth of the narrow rocky entrance strait. It has a turnover of one hundred million dollars. The work has been entrusted to him because of the weakness of the local management. He came to Kenya forty years ago; he said his family are like gypsies; he and his wife are here, his daughter is in Switzerland, and his son is in Thailand. We took a tour of the port area in small boats. A one-hundred-thousand-ton Iranian ship—Iran Elham—was also moored. I expressed affection to the ship's personnel from a distance. We planted a tree. At the farewell too they sang the same anthem.

From there we went to the Ja'fari Club, belonging to the Twelver Khoja Shia. We arrived at noon. We performed ablution and said the congregational prayer with a large number of Shia and Sunni Muslims. We said the noon prayer led by the Sunni chief judge and the afternoon prayer led by me; because the Sunnis do not combine the noon and afternoon prayers. Several people spoke and offered their welcome. They referred to the history of Islamic rule in this city by the immigrant Ottomans. I too gave a short speech. I thanked the sympathy of Sunni, Shia, and Christian, and explained the progress of Islamic Iran and its readiness to help Africa and to replace the Western colonialists. We planted a tree and signed a book.

For lunch we went to the Shia Hosseiniyeh—the Imam Barah. They had good food, mostly of the Pakistani type. The women also had lunch on the second floor. After lunch, I expressed thanks in a short speech. We also took a photograph with them. We went toward Fort Jesus Christ, which was built by the Portuguese in the fifteenth century. At that time, the Portuguese built such centers in sensitive coastal points, like Africa, the Persian Gulf, India, and the Far East, for colonial purposes, and later it changed hands several times. The guide was good and gave good explanations. The fort overlooks the narrow strait between the island and the mainland. They had also set up a museum, and there were many ancient artifacts from Iran too. They themselves had nothing noteworthy.

We went to the airport. Along the way, everywhere crowds of people were expressing their feelings. At the farewell, choirs and dance groups gave a warm farewell. On the return, we passed close to the famous peak of Kilimanjaro; it is more than five thousand meters high. We came to the hotel. Most of the time was spent studying the reports. While we were at the Mombasa refinery, they reported that America had attacked Iraq with cruise missiles. The CNN television network had devoted its entire program to the Iraq–America war and insistently came to the hotel and conducted an interview with me. I identified America, Saddam, and the hostile Kurdish groups as responsible and considered the Iraqi people the victims and respect for international regulations necessary. For dinner we were guests of the embassy. At the interesting and good residence, several Kenyans performed a good show in the Persian language.