The savory aroma of goat meat permeated the air, while the soft crackle of roasting corn and the hum of various languages filled Pavilion 3 at Gunpowder Falls State Park on July 12.
It’s a familiar scene for many East African immigrants who’ve gathered there annually for decades.
“Well, we just picked an American holiday — the Fourth of July being Independence Day — and we, as Kenyan-Americans, felt that it's nice to also remember our heritage in the same spirit,” said Mugo Gachucha, one of the event’s longtime organizers.
The annual cookout began more than 30 years ago with a few families and a single pot of food. Now, it’s a cornerstone event for the Kenyan diaspora across Maryland and neighboring states.
“It's a family event that we, the men in Baltimore, organize for all our families. And we invite everybody,” Gachucha said.
The gathering usually draws about 3,000 people. This year, however, the crowd was noticeably smaller. Gachucha estimated about 1,200 attended.
Some chalked it up to busy schedules, summer vacations or last-minute planning. Others weren’t so sure.
“Trump,” blurted Alvin Kariuki, a rising eighth grader, when asked what might have kept people away.
While no enforcement activity was reported, rumors of potential Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids circulated.
“Actually, one of my friends sent me a message and said ICE people were here. So there’s a lot of fear.” said Warigia Wanjihia.
Even with consular staff on-site — offering passport renewals and other services — the unease lingered.
“I think people are scared of reproach,” Gachucha said. “There’s a lot of uncertainty.”
Embassy officials and their operations are protected under the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations (1961). U.S. immigration agents can’t enter without permission. Still, for some, the perceived risk was too high.
Mugo Gachucha, pictured in a black top, enjoys a cold drink alongside a friend during the annual Kenyan cookout.
Despite growing logistical challenges, organizers pressed forward.
According to Kiguru Kimani, the event’s chairman, the cookout takes months of planning and typically costs between $12,000 and $16,000.
“This year, it almost didn’t happen,” Kimani said, citing months of negotiations with state officials. He said the group was required to provide more infrastructure — including dumpsters, portable toilets, hand-washing stations and liability insurance.
They were also charged a higher fee because the event was classified as commercial, despite being hosted by a nonprofit.
A response from the Department of Natural Resources is pending.
Other changes included sourcing the meat commercially. They skipped their usual trip to a Pennsylvania slaughterhouse — cutting costs in half.
“It was a 50% savings,” said Kimani. “So it may be something we do in the future.”
As families mingled throughout the park, dozens of men stood over military-sized grills, searing goat meat — a staple at Kenyan celebrations.
“Culturally, an event or ceremony is not a ceremony without goat,” Kimani said.
No part of the animal goes to waste. Even the head and hooves are boiled into a rich broth.
“You have to boil it for a couple hours,” Sophie Sawyer explained. “You want all the soup to come out of the bones. “The first boil, that’s the best one — it gets thick.”
Her friends ululated while pouring steaming soup into cups, calling it an ‘honor to drink’.
“It’s a ceremonial drink, served to elders” chimed in Susan Mosei. “You give this soup to women who’ve just delivered. It’s full of iron, and collagen. It gives you back your energy and makes you strong.”
She grinned. “We’re all over 50. How do we look?”
Further down, Peter Ndungu turned ears of corn over an open fire with bare hands.
“The corn has to turn golden brown,” Ndungu said. “We started doing this way back in Africa, when we were growing up. It reminds us of home.”
For him, the act is a gesture of service. “The reward is seeing the community together,” he said.
As food simmered and smoke rose, the mood remained festive, against a backdrop of unease — both abroad and at home.
Tensions abroad
June 25 marked the one-year anniversary of mass protests in Kenya against a now-withdrawn finance bill. What began as opposition to taxes has since evolved into a larger youth-led movement against corruption and police violence.
Organizations such as Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and Kenya’s National Commission on Human Rights have documented dozens of protest-related deaths.
Kenya is home to more than 40 communities, each with distinct customs.
For those in the diaspora, such gatherings help preserve cultural identity.
“America has become our home,” Mosei said. “We brought what we did from our country here, because it's a country of immigrants.”
Organizers estimate there are around 50,000 Kenyans living in the Baltimore-Washington corridor.
Elected officials spotted at the event included County Executive Kathy Klausmeier, Delegate Kim Ross, Sen. Carl Jackson, and Councilman Julian Jones.
As shifting U.S. immigration policies leave many communities in limbo, organizers say events like this aren’t just about nostalgia — they’re essential, according to Gachucha.
Caught between two worlds, these Kenyan families looked ahead.
