The Life and Death of the Fabulous BALI.
DRUM East Africa MARCH 1970
They pumped nine pints of blood into his huge frame at Nairobi Aga Khan Hospital. But the fabulous “Bali” was finished. His liver, unable to take any more hootch, had bust. He died during the night.
But the ghost of that bewitching smiles still lingered on Ball’s face as his cold body lay in the iron-roofed shed of the Muslim cemetery, decorated with scores of exotic wreaths- from American millionaires like Bill Ryan, big game hunters like Kerr and Downey and African drivers of the Game Hunters and Safari Workers Union. High and low, Europeans, Asians, Africans, Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs filed past his body in silent tribute, before it was laid to rest to recitations from the Koran.
Bali was an Asian but in his veins flowed the blood of Africa. He was born in Nairobi, educated in Nairobi and lived most of his life in the Kenya bush, where he pursued the life of a big game hunter with the zest of -”Simba Mbili,” his Pathan hunter hero who was reputed to have killed two Lions with a single shot near Mitito Andei at the turn of the century. click to read the Full Article

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