The anticipation was overwhelming as I embarked on the journey to document the Jila Galani, a sacred pilgrimage undertaken by the Gabra community once every fifteen years. The expedition was more than just a documentation project—it was a journey into history, spirituality, and resilience. The thought of walking the ancient trails of the Galbo phratry, witnessing age-old rituals, and immersing myself in a deeply spiritual event filled me with both excitement and anxiety.
As we set out from Marsabit County towards the Kenyan-Ethiopian border, the landscape unfolded before me in breathtaking vastness. The undulating hills of Maer, Kubi Adi, Forole, and Kiiti stood as silent witnesses to generations of Gabra pilgrimages. The sky stretched infinitely, casting its soft hues over the golden plains dotted with acacia trees. Camels, the lifeblood of the Gabra people, moved in graceful strides, carrying household materials as families began their migration.
There was a distinct energy in the air. The YAA elders had announced the commencement of the pilgrimage after sighting the new moon. The sacred horn and drum, instruments reserved for this solemn occasion, reverberated through the air, summoning the Gabra people to their ancestral call. I could feel the weight of history pressing upon me. This was no ordinary journey—it was a return to roots, a renewal of cultural identity, and a passage into a new era of leadership.
From the very beginning, I was captivated by the deep symbolism and intricate rituals that defined the Jila Galani. On the first morning after the sighting of the moon, the community gathered, each household presenting camel milk for purification. A special goat, Korbes Ilibaatii, was sacrificed, its blood smeared upon the Hayu in a powerful ritual of blessing and protection.
The movement towards Kubi Adi was a sight to behold. Families demolished their homes, loaded their belongings onto camels, and embarked on a migration that lasted hours. The solemn yet vibrant procession moved in an orchestrated manner, pausing occasionally to adjust loads and rest. The sacred journey took us through historical sites, culminating in Kiiti, the heart of the pilgrimage, where new leadership was established.
At Kiiti, I witnessed the sacred NANESA site, a living archaeological marvel where the Gabra have performed their rituals for generations. It was here that the ritual of ELEMO DAKA KOI took place, with a sheep sacrificed atop Forole Hills by the Barawa family, symbolizing continuity and unity. The spectacle of the ceremonial kraal, where clans’ camels mingled together in a massive congregation, was a powerful testament to the Gabra’s deep connection with their livestock and their faith in divine blessings.
Through the entire journey, I gained immense knowledge about the Gabra’s indigenous leadership structure, communal responsibility, and spiritual devotion. The installation of the new D’abeela, marked by the donning of the sacred white cylindrical turban, DUUBO, was not just a political transition—it was a rebirth, a symbolic death and resurrection into spiritual leadership. The new leaders were inducted into the responsibilities of guiding the Gabra, ensuring the prosperity and well-being of the community until the next Jila Galani fifteen years later.
I marveled at the precision and order of each ceremony. The handover of sacred leadership instruments, the initiation of young men into the LUBA generation, and the final blessings of the Abba Forole, who had the hereditary duty of pouring milk on his head as an act of communal benediction—all these rituals illustrated a culture deeply rooted in continuity, respect, and reverence for ancestral traditions.
Despite the beauty and depth of the experience, the journey was not without its hardships. The long treks under the scorching sun, the limited water sources, and the rugged terrain tested my endurance. The Gabra peo ple, however, navigated these challenges with remarka ble resilience. They carried their traditions with them, never wavering in their faith and commitment. Watching them rebuild their homes, prepare food over firesticks, and sustain their spirits through song and storytelling left me in awe of their strength and unity. As I documented each phase, I realized that Jila Galani was more than a cultural event—it was a powerful testament to the Gabra’s unwavering connection to their history, land, and spiritual beliefs. The pilgrimage was an affirmation of identity, a binding force that transcended generations.
As the ceremonies concluded and the community prepared to return to their settlements, I found myself reflecting on the depth of what I had witnessed. The Jila Galani pilgrimage was not just about transition ing leadership; it was about reaffirming faith, unity, and the sacred bond between people and their ancestors. The resilience and devotion of the Gabra people left an indelible mark on my heart. As I packed my camera and notebooks, I knew that this was more than a documentation project—it was a personal journey of discovery, a deep dive into one of the richest cultural traditions I had ever encountered. With every story recorded, every image captured, and every memory etched in my mind, I carried with me a profound respect for the Gabra people and their extraordinary pilgrimage of faith, culture, and endurance.