Junagadh: Where Africa meets India in the heart of Gujarat

At the crack of dawn, Vijay, my chauffeur, took the wheel of his SUV and set off for Junagadh, the ‘Old Fort’ city. The scenic drive from Rajkot Airport unfolded over three hours. Cotton fields, billowing like clouds, gave way to emerald wheat and sunshine-yellow mustard. Periodically, a Nilgai (antelope) with the air of a forgotten king would emerge from the roadside greenery, adding a dash of the unexpected to this painterly trip. As the horizon stretched wider, Girnar hills, like slumbering giants, began to rise from the distance, their peaks mimicking the soaring spires of a temple. Stepping off in Junagadh, the gravity of its historical legacy instantly shrouded me. Once a thread into the fabric of Saurashtra and later Bombay state, Junagadh puffs a lineage tracing back to the Mauryan dynasty. And in the thick of its time-worn buildings lining narrow pathways soars Uparkot Fort, a 319 BCE relic that serves as a poignant reminder of the Chandragupta Maurya era.

This ancient hunk of stone, perched atop a plateau, was my first stop. Exploring its weathered tracks alongside my guide Mahesh Ji, who also doubled up as a fort chauffeur with a golf cart service (available for Rs 150 per hour), I could not help but feel the fort’s aged stones quake with an undeniable echo of the past. Uparkot Fort, which underwent an eight-year renovation, recently reopened its doors to the public in October 2023. Despite tourists buzzing through its every nook and cranny, Uparkot maintains a stoic air. Three ornate gateways guard its entrance, like nested riddles. Its towering eastern wall, reinforced with each siege, shelters a maze of buildings where Nilam, Kadanal, and Manek cannons stand watch. The Jumma Masjid (attributed to Mahmud Begada) now houses a curated collection of relics meticulously arranged for modern observers. Nearby, the tomb of Nuri Shah and the Adi Kadi Vav reverberate with the solemn silence of ancient narratives steeped in mystery. As Mahesh Ji ushered me out, he offered a parting shot, “You shouldn’t miss Sasan Gir National Park while you are here. It’s more than just trees – it’s a place where tales of resilient indigenous tribes coexisting with wild animals have been woven into the very fabric of time.”

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My ever-reliable chauffeur, Vijay, wouldn’t hear of heading straight to the hotel without one last stop: The “absolutely-can’t-miss” 1878 Mahabat Maqbara complex. A real architectural head-scratcher - this mausoleum is the final resting place of Nawab Mahabat Khan II and his Vizier, Bahauddin Hussain Bhar. It’s as if the Taj Mahal threw a wild party with a French chateau and somehow ended up with gold carvings, onion domes, and minarets with built-in staircases. Junagadh was unfolding its allure with every passing monument, and yet, my next stop promised an entirely different adventure. A mere hour’s drive from Junagadh, I checked in to my hotel, Woods at Sasan, amidst the lush expanse of a 16-acre mango orchard, where I stumbled upon an intriguing display of African heritage. That night, against leafy mango trees, a group of fire-wielding dancers clad in blue tribal pants with suspenders orchestrated a forest-themed ballet that I later learned was called Dhamaal.

This dance was a menagerie of locomotioning lions and pirouetting monkeys. Turns out, the performers belong to the Siddi tribe, an indigenous community with African roots as apparent as their dark skin tones and tightly coiled hair. Yet, what puzzled me was their African appearance juxtaposed with fluent Gujarati conversations. Curiosity, ever the nagging houseguest, wouldn’t let me leave without a deeper dive. So, the following morning, I set off on a safari adventure, not for lions, but for something far more fascinating. Just a bumpy half-hour jeep ride from the mango haven of my hotel, nestled along the Una-Talala road, lay Madhupur Jambur – the ancestral village of the Siddi tribe. A fleeting glimpse of blue—a kingfisher perched atop a pillar—marked the outset of this tribal exploration. Jambur defies the norms of an average Gujarati village. This hidden gem, south of Junagadh and near the untamed Gir Forest, sits beside the Saraswati River, pulsating with the vitality of 6000 Siddi people across 450 homes.

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Jambur carts you to Africa while firmly rooted in Indian soil. The adjoining Talala district cradles nearly 16 villages, home to a thriving Siddi community numbering 20,000. Jambur is just the first chapter; the whole district thrums with a unique cultural melody. Life here mirrors that of other Gujarati settlements: women clad in colourful gowns wash laundry by the Saraswati river, men swim in its waters, and cormorants punctuate the scene with their aquatic acrobatics as they hunt for fish. This intimate tableau underscored the deep connection the Siddi tribe shares with the land, reinforced by their traditional occupations—farming, fishing, and hunting—which bind them closely to their domain’s riches.

With a dusty detour, navigating more cows than tourists, all in pursuit of a local legend, I soon found myself inside a quaint dwelling, its walls resembling a lotus blossom. Inside, 62-year-old Hirbai Ibrahim Lobi reclined on a wooden cot, surrounded by her many accolades. Lobi, a recent Padma Shri recipient, has dedicated over 30 years to empowering Siddi tribe. As a committed community developer, Lobi teams with the GIT Foundation and the Gir Ecological Education Tourism Foundation. Her efforts focus on women’s empowerment, offering training in sewing machine operation and embroidery, and promoting sustainable agriculture through vermicomposting and fertilizer advocacy. Further, Lobi advocates Siddi children’s education through her involvement with Anganwadis rural childcare centres. Despite her Padma Shri recognition, Lobi remains driven to contribute further, accentuating the need for the government to raise awareness and empower the tribe.

We started chatting, and with a big smile, Lobi eagerly divulged, “My ancestry arrived to India during the colonial era, some 500 years ago.” She recounted that during the late 1800s, the Nawabs (kings) of Junagadh, alarmed by the dwindling Asiatic lion population due to excessive hunting, implemented conservation measures. Seeking a solution, they brought the Siddi tribe from Tanzania in East Africa to assist in protecting the wildlife. Lobi says, “Siddi don’t like light work, they like heavy work.” So the tribe went on to live near Gir forest, amongst lions and leopards. “Even the powerful flow of the Saraswati River can’t hold us back. We swim in it during high tide, forging a bond with nature,” adds Lobi. Thus the Siddi’s physical prowess also proved valuable to the British during the nascent stages of railway construction in 1955. In return, Nawab vested Siddi with agricultural land for their contribution.

Ever since, Siddis have prospered alongside Gir’s wilderness, nurturing a rich agricultural tradition. Sugarcane and mango plantations thrive along fields of seasonal wheat, lentils (chana), green and black gram, soybeans, and peanuts. Lobi explains, “We also grow vegetables, primarily for our own consumption, though now we have a surplus to sell.” When I asked about Siddi’s diet, Lobi conveyed, “Vegetables are a staple, but we enjoy a non-vegetarian meal daily.” She reminisces about her childhood when hunting nilgai, deer, and other animals formed part of their diet, with the exception of peacocks. “Peacocks are revered,” she explains, “Their feathers embellish the altar of our dargah (shrine).” The Siddi community, Lobi adds with pride traces its lineage back to Hazrat Bilal, a loyal companion of Prophet Muhammad and the first person of documented African descent to adopt Islam.

Although the Siddis practice Islam and have embraced Gujarati culture; endogamy or marrying within their community has helped them to retain a unique identity that echoes their African heritage. Lobi highlights this by noting that while Africans have visited the Siddi community, the Siddi from Gujarat haven’t travelled to Africa as yet. However, a trip to the continent remains a cherished dream for her. My visit to Madhupur Jambur offered a fascinating glimpse into a unique microcosm of African heritage within Gujarat. Returning to Woods at Sasan, a traditional Gujarati Thali feast at ‘Swadesh’ delivered a flavoursome return to the Indian touch. The evening presented itself with a different kind of wildlife experience – a one-hour caged safari through 16 square kilometres of Devaliya dry grassland.

While a traditional safari at Gir National Park offers a more immersive experience, Devaliya predominantly houses rescued animals with a history of aggression. However, spotting even one Asiatic lion here is a guaranteed highlight. While the lions are the star attraction in Sasan Gir, the Siddi tribe, with their characteristic genealogy, steals the show in a completely different way. Bidding farewell to the wilderness sagas of Gir and the regal echoes of Junagadh, I chased the first blush of dawn to Malanka Dam. City buildings, sleep still clinging to their edges, watched as the sun splashed its golden-pink hues across the canvas of rippling water. Refreshed by this urban sunrise serenade, I felt a calmness akin to the river’s murmur, a perfect prelude to my pilgrimage to the Swaminarayan Temple on Nagar Road.

Stepping through the threshold of 1826, I found myself transported. The five spires of the Swaminarayan Temple, each a gilded finger, were dipped in the heady wine of sunrise. King Hemantsinh’s legacy shimmered around me. Alfresco, the Girnar hills sang a harmonious duet with the city’s soft dawn chants. It was a song of serenity that resonated far more baritone than the haunts of Junagadh’s Uparkot Fort. Here and now, I conceded Junagadh wasn’t just a fortress of history; it is a layered tapestry woven with threads of stupefaction beyond its ancient ramparts.

With more than a decade of writing experience and a passion for exploring the world, the author is a travel journalist with a knack for captivating storytelling. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.