Kenya is also a world of light.
Among all the attractions, suggestions and feelings that this country provokes in those who live it, between tangible impulses and spiritual transports, one rarely thinks of the importance of its brightness and how much it affects that tangle of sensations that for sheer convenience we call 'African sickness'.
The immense and everywhere sky of the equator is not only the mirror of millions of existences that cross it, united by the same magnetism despite suffering or benefiting from completely different fates.
In Kenya, there are supernatural elements as well as entirely natural everyday events that penetrate deeply and are felt by humans in equal measure, at least unconsciously.
Light is one of these elements.
The great reporter and philosopher of Africa, Ryszard Kapuscinski, embellishes the incipit of 'Ebony', his best-known and most celebrated book (for those who have not yet read it, an essential piece of writing for understanding Africa and the genesis of its independence) with the sensation we are talking about.
"The first thing that strikes you is the light. 
Light everywhere, strong, intense..."
He tells of an entire continent, although he warns against considering it a single geopolitical entity ('in reality, apart from its geographical name, Africa does not exist').
Yet he starts from light, as an emblematic and unifying element.
A light that regulates everything and perhaps for this reason makes equatorial Africa the land closest to circadian rhythms, to man's ancestral habits, which began right here in the cradle of civilisation.
A light that goes out suddenly, in little more than half an hour, and often contrasts with the absolute darkness of areas without electricity or where there should be but where there is no money to pay for it or working transformers.
A light that takes the air away, because in so many hovels or huts paraffin lanterns are lit. A light that, as it leaves, not only darkens the sky but also smiles and activates fear, that puts the gazelle to sleep and keeps the hyenas awake.
But also a consoling light, because it frees Africans from the daily drudgery of survival and interrupts the plots and frenzy of those who profit from it.
Postponing everything to a new, bright, intense enchantment of light in which not to take part, despite the black curtain at each act waiting for the unknown ending, would be a pity.