There are journeys that begin as adventure and end as transformation.

This one began in Colombo, at sea level, in the comfort of warm tropical air. It ended at 5,895 metres above sea level on the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro where I stood at sunrise holding the Sri Lankan flag above a sea of clouds.

Between those two points lay seven days of thin air, freezing temperatures, broken sleep, and one of the hardest physical and mental challenges of my life.

This expedition was organised and led by Summit Nomads founder Nirmal Wijesinghe, with one clear purpose: to take Sri Lankans beyond comfort and into the world’s most demanding landscapes. As a Sri Lankan entrepreneur committed to high-altitude exploration, I have always believed that our limits exist to be challenged. Kilimanjaro was not just a climb it was a statement of what Sri Lankans can achieve on the world stage.

Day 1: Shira Camp 1 – 3,500 Metres

We began from Shira Camp 1 (3,500 m).

At that altitude alone, the air already holds significantly less oxygen than at sea level. For many people, 3,500 metres is higher than they will ever stand in their lifetime.

From the first afternoon, breathing required attention. Movements became slower. The mountain had already begun its quiet test.

Day 2: Cathedral Point – 3,872 metres | Shira Camp 2 – 3,850 metres

On the second day, we climbed to Cathedral Point at approximately 3,872 metres, one of the highest points on the Shira Plateau. The views across Tanzania were vast and humbling.

We then continued to Shira Camp 2 (3,850 m) for the night.

Though the numbers may seem close, every meter gained was felt in our lungs. Breathing was no longer automatic. It was deliberate.

Day 3: Lava Tower – 4,600 metres | Barranco Camp – 3,960 metres

Day 3 was a turning point.

We climbed steadily to Lava Tower (4,600 m), a massive volcanic rock formation rising from the mountain’s slopes. At 4,600 metres, the altitude makes its presence known. Headaches began. My legs felt heavy. Conversations became shorter.

After reaching the tower, we descended to Barranco Camp (3,960 m) to sleep lower and allow our bodies to adjust.The mountain follows a strict rule: climb high, sleep low.

That night, the cold intensified. We slept in tents, but the sleep was shallow and broken. Ice formed inside the tent from our own breath. In the morning, frozen crystals lined the inner walls.

There was no real rest, only endurance.

Day 4: Barranco Wall – 4,200 metres | Karanga Camp – 4,035 metres

On Day 4, we faced the imposing Barranco Wall, rising to about 4,200 metres at its highest point.

From below, it appears almost vertical. Climbers move slowly, gripping rock with hands and boots, focused on every step. One mistake could mean serious injury.

Reaching the top of the wall felt like a victory of its own. But Kilimanjaro does not offer easy wins.

We continued to Karanga Camp (4,035 m) for the night. The air was thinner. The wind was colder. The summit now felt close but still far.

Day 5: Barafu Camp – 4,673 metres

On Day 5, we moved to Barafu Camp (4,673 m) – the final base before the summit attempt.

Barafu means “ice” in Swahili. The name is fitting. The camp is exposed, rocky, and unforgiving. No one truly sleeps at that altitude. You lie down knowing that midnight will come quickly.

Six nights without proper sleep had taken a toll. The cold had settled deep into the body.

Day 6: Summit Night - Uhuru Peak – 5,895 metres

At exactly 12 midnight, we began the final ascent toward Uhuru Peak (5,895 m).

The temperature dropped sharply. The wind cut through every layer of clothing. As we climbed higher, I reached for water but it had already frozen inside my hydration pack. Even drinking was no longer possible.

At nearly 6,000 metres, oxygen levels are roughly half of what they are at sea level. Every ten steps required a pause. Breathing was slow and controlled.

Around me, climbers struggled. I saw people collapse from low oxygen. I saw others sit down, unable to continue. Porters carried exhausted trekkers on their backs because they could not descend on their own.

At that altitude, strength alone is not enough. Your body fights. Your mind negotiates.

After hours of slow movement in darkness, the sky began to lighten. Black turned to deep blue. Then the first gold light appeared on the horizon.

At sunrise, I stood on the highest point in Africa, atop the world’s tallest free-standing peak, 5,895 metres above sea level.

Above the clouds. Above exhaustion. Above doubt. I held the Sri Lankan flag high against the rising African sun.

In that moment, the cold, the frozen water, the sleepless nights, and the pain faded into silence.

Descent: Mweka Camp – 3,100 metres | Mweka Gate – 1,640 metres

The summit is only halfway.

We descended back to Barafu Camp and continued down to Mweka Camp (3,100 m). With every meter lost, oxygen slowly returned. Muscles burned. Knees trembled.

On Day 7, we reached Mweka Gate (1,640 m). The climb was complete.

What the Mountain teaches

From 3,500 metres at Shira Camp 1 to 5,895 metres at Uhuru Peak, Kilimanjaro is not just a mountain, it is a test of endurance, patience, and mental strength.

You live in a tent. You endure sub-zero temperatures. You function on little sleep. You witness how fragile the human body becomes at altitude. 

But you also discover something greater.The human spirit is stronger than the mountain.

When I left Colombo, this was an expedition. When I returned, it was a reminder: the greatest summits we conquer are often the ones within ourselves.

And sometimes, they stand 5,895 metres above the clouds.

(The writer is a high-altitude expedition leader and adventurer, and is the Founder of Summit Nomads)

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The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication