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A lonely hut sits at the edge of the beach. The air is gravid with an eerie silence that is almost choking. The footpath is isolated and dusty. Oblivious to the fact that just a few miles away is a lake full of water. It meanders from side to side amidst the thick bushes. On one side lies an old torn fishing net that has been discarded. It probably has seen better days doing its job. My right foot gets trapped into it. Absent-mindedly, I kick it off severally in futile attempts, ere it finally detaches off and lands on the ground, only to send a cloud of dust into the air. My guide, Agali, mentioned that it was quite a distance to the beach. Am not bothered. He trots ahead of me in measured steps. I take in the scenery. The yellow sunset rays that seem to bid the day farewell. A few carnivorous birds that swash in and out of the water that is now more visible to my eyes. They seem to take a bet on lady luck for a fish meal. Some are plain white with long, narrow necks. Like Angels. Others black and petite. Making fast, dashful movements as though escaping a death call. Suddenly am brought back to the now by a dark skinned lady who mumbles a kind greeting in the local dialect to Agali. He answers back politely. She walks past us towards the opposite direction. In a short while, we turn round a bushy corner and finally come into the lake's full glory. It is now dusk. The sun is no more. There are many small orange dots deep and over the water. The fishermen are already into the lake with their solar powered lamps. These, they hire on a daily basis from Agali. He has recently just started this business. He owns a container that harbours thousands of solar lamps in the day. During this time he takes them back from the fishermen and recharges. Towards evening, they come back and hire from him for the next 24 hours at a fee. These are the many orange lights we now see over the lake. Meant to attract fish and thus boost a night's catch. A fresh water body like Lake Victoria, prides its fish. Right now, we are keen on joining Agali's brother who uses the solar light to trap a type of the smaller fish species called dagaa. Best known as 'omena' by the local dialect. Luo. We settle into his small boat as he packs his net and lamp. In a smaller clear tin are tadpole-like creatures some of which are mobile. I have never been in such a small boat before. The water seems too close to me. I am instantly nauseated. He offers a handful of salt and nods his head. I take some and lick. Soon we are all alone in the darkness. The waves are rythmic. The sound of water hitting the side of the boat has a rather calming effect. The other lights from the fishermen seem to have disappeared into oblivion. A glance up on to the sky reveals a few stars. No moon. Suddenly the boat rocks from side to side in an unexpected motion. Water fills up from its base. A look at the fisherman's face elicits no emotion. He hurriedly hands me a half cut gourd as I intelligently mimic his actions. Fetch water from the base and pour out into the lake. Agali paddles with panic towards the direction we came from. Thin threads of sweat drip down my face. The base is filling faster than we can actually empty. The paddling is practically stalled. The fishing net is instantly sacrificed and thrown into the lake to ease on the weight. The network bars on my phone are gone. Well, my rescue jacket seems to be pressing so hard around my chest. I cannot breath. Then a dim light in the distance, as though an only sign of hope paves its way towards us. I make out the silhoutte of a ferry. Fishing techniques shall be learnt next time. Today's was thwarted.