•Tuesday, October 03, 2006
it’s a very hot saturday afternoon. nairobi of late has been very hot, global warming has just hit our streets. is this what they call a heat wave on cnn and bbc? pardon my ignorance but it’s really hot of late in nairobi and for those of us who are aerophobic, we have no comparison for such kind of weather. there has been also a lot of unexplained office and industrial fires, the latest been at intercontinental house and sadolin paints. that’s our own bush fires that are easily ignited by a cigar butt. they tell us hell will be hotter, actually burning hot. the fiery furnace, brimstone and sulphur, gnashing of teeth and wailing. mmh … whoever believed the religious rhetoric.
you have just turned into harambee avenue from moi avenue, at least you are not in the direct path of the hot rays of the early afternoon scorching sun anymore. there is this pickup load of plywood and cardboards that have to be delivered to a construction site manned by an asian foreman. you dare not be late! then thirst strikes. or is it the catchy nic bank atm. you have no time to go back to town after the delivery and the baby needed some milk. could be you need to catch a bite at this steamy chips and burger joint. whatever the need in your melted brain, you pack the car in a haste. it’s a saturday and there is noone to bog you down with the parking charges crap. after all, the attendants are nowhere in sight and you just want to dash and be back in a flash.
off you got and in a second you are back. oh la la la. nairobi there are ghosts. they have invaded your pickup and is currently suspended in air from the back. a heavy chain connects it to what looks like a desert rover. ‘maybe the foreman thought i have taken long in delivering and decided to get a makeshift helicopter to hasten the delivery process?’, you wish. “aren’t ghosts white”, you wonder. ‘but these are clad in yellow, they are sweaty and oily’, the slippery mind battles on. “being a hot afternoon, you think its one of those crazy illusions that a lazy mind gets into once in a while.
you have just turned into harambee avenue from moi avenue, at least you are not in the direct path of the hot rays of the early afternoon scorching sun anymore. there is this pickup load of plywood and cardboards that have to be delivered to a construction site manned by an asian foreman. you dare not be late! then thirst strikes. or is it the catchy nic bank atm. you have no time to go back to town after the delivery and the baby needed some milk. could be you need to catch a bite at this steamy chips and burger joint. whatever the need in your melted brain, you pack the car in a haste. it’s a saturday and there is noone to bog you down with the parking charges crap. after all, the attendants are nowhere in sight and you just want to dash and be back in a flash.
off you got and in a second you are back. oh la la la. nairobi there are ghosts. they have invaded your pickup and is currently suspended in air from the back. a heavy chain connects it to what looks like a desert rover. ‘maybe the foreman thought i have taken long in delivering and decided to get a makeshift helicopter to hasten the delivery process?’, you wish. “aren’t ghosts white”, you wonder. ‘but these are clad in yellow, they are sweaty and oily’, the slippery mind battles on. “being a hot afternoon, you think its one of those crazy illusions that a lazy mind gets into once in a while.
hunger deprives the memory essential amino acids so it can’t be what it seems. “let me hop into the car and as i munch my burger, all will be clear”. too bad, my friend. before you slot the key into the door, the car starts moving in reverse. “aha, levitation at work!”, you think and are taken aback. sorry my friend, you have been cramped. Reality finally dawns on you. “you have to make some payments at city hall to have your car released. come collect your car at some station in upper hill after making the payments at city hall”, the council attendant affirms. that’s the catch. city hall is closed and will be open on monday. in zero-tolerance spirit, you part with 2,000shs, your car is un-cramped na unaendelea kuvumilia kuwa mkenya.
from my strategic watcher-point at first floor of electricity house across the street, away from the yellow ghosts, another drama was unfolding. traffic had slowed down as vehicles joined moi avenue from harambee avenue. a land drover with two occupants was in tandem snail pace too. a white lady was driving and had a young male passenger. nairobi being an oven, the front windows were open quarter way to let in a breeze and fresh air i presume. in the twinkling of an eye a shabbily dressed man catcalled across the street where the yellow ghosts were sharing the spoils. two haggard looking men pacefully crossed the streets and approached the land rover. in split second time one had slipped his hand through the open front passenger window and pulled the back left door lock open.
from my strategic watcher-point at first floor of electricity house across the street, away from the yellow ghosts, another drama was unfolding. traffic had slowed down as vehicles joined moi avenue from harambee avenue. a land drover with two occupants was in tandem snail pace too. a white lady was driving and had a young male passenger. nairobi being an oven, the front windows were open quarter way to let in a breeze and fresh air i presume. in the twinkling of an eye a shabbily dressed man catcalled across the street where the yellow ghosts were sharing the spoils. two haggard looking men pacefully crossed the streets and approached the land rover. in split second time one had slipped his hand through the open front passenger window and pulled the back left door lock open.
luckily for the occupants, the second thieving man who was supposed to unlock the back left door while the one who catcalled snatches the bags at the back was slow in crossing the road in the well choreographed nairobbery. the young passenger was also quick to lock the back door as the driver rolled up the windows. better the oven than the mean looking faces of these day sticky-fingers. life went on as usual, no alarms raised and business was normal for all that surrounded the dram except for some curious dazed looks. the thugs just walked across the street, sat down next to the yellow ghosts and waited for their next prey. like the hawk eyed nairobian, a storey away, all other kenyans watched the two dramas coldly and lifelessly.
the next day, the matatu i had boarded on my way home in the sun-baking afternoon was stopped at a hurriedly erected police road block. we had already paid full fare and fastened our seat belts. it was flagged down for having stopped to pick passengers at a stage near a road block. the whole van of policemen descended on the matatu with shouts of the fact that the matatu had violated traffic rules and was thus to be impounded; police property. the tout had managed to flee the scene and the passengers were left at the mercy of the exchange between the police and the driver who insisted he had broken no rules. it had to be taken to the central police station.
the next day, the matatu i had boarded on my way home in the sun-baking afternoon was stopped at a hurriedly erected police road block. we had already paid full fare and fastened our seat belts. it was flagged down for having stopped to pick passengers at a stage near a road block. the whole van of policemen descended on the matatu with shouts of the fact that the matatu had violated traffic rules and was thus to be impounded; police property. the tout had managed to flee the scene and the passengers were left at the mercy of the exchange between the police and the driver who insisted he had broken no rules. it had to be taken to the central police station.
‘what about us, will we get our fare and balance back?, we protested. the driver did not have money, so the police said we all proceed to the station and the driver will be compelled to look for money once he has been locked in. what irony. i had given 200 kshs. at the thought of going to the police station, i alighted and made alternative transport arrangements. the rest were driven to the police station, the road block was dismounted and the regiment of around eight officers escorted the fat catch to the station. but they didn’t get there. a roundabout away the passengers were forced to alight and the matatu was packed on the pavement. i knew the hassling for ‘our daily bread’ had began in earnest before they mount another road block. i lost my 200shs hard earned money. its part of the price i have to pay for at times nalialia kuwa mkenya.
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8 comments:
sasa wewe, I have heard of najivunia kuwa mkenya
Navumilia kuwa mkenya and now
nalilia kuwa mkenya!
I remember in Nai you never wanted your car to sleep in impound over the weekend, it wouldnt be the same car when you got it back!
When I used to get into CBD....
1.Take off watch
2.Put cell on vibrate
3.Put wallet in a safe place
4.Blend in
5.If driving close all windows leaving only a crack large enough for a babies finger.
Road blocks are just cash cows for the police.
I think if you can make it in Nai you can make it anywhere.
That's our city for you!
To avoid being 'cramped' or towed always buy the 70 bob ticket before attempting to look for parking. Then choose one that is furthest away from any line that may look yellowish. Too bad this sometimes causes you to park half an hour from where you are heading. Dont leave anything in the car that you would miss terribly in case it got reappropriated.
Aco, put wallet in safe place?! Hmm more like empty contents into pockets and leave wallet in glove box (less bulky).
@farmgal, just trying a third phrase. the other two capture the two major tibes we have in kenya: the haves and the havenots
@acolyte, well captured tips though to alarge extent on the paranoid side. nairobbery is our very own survivor nairobi
@aegeus, well said but the first hurdle comes in the buying of the 70 bob ticket. those council attendants are ghostly, nowhere to be seen but the moment you leave your car in seaarch of them, you get 'cramped'
Sad... and the thugs had nothing to fear... I wish I owned a gun coz I would blow the MF away!
How does one get a license for a gun in Kenya?
@coldtusker, the thugs did their 'business' casually. no haste and after the failed attempt they went back in position.
you remind me of prof obel who had a gun and shot at a matatu driver coz of obstruction or the lady magistrate who got out and slapped one before booking her in.
i am not sure about the licensing requirements but you got to justify that your life is in constant need of defence and after a routine checkup at cid hq, think then you can be licensed.
jp - This is not a matatu obstructing me... The thugs if they manage to get into the car could force you to drive off into a remote part of town & rape/kill you...
I was held up at knife-point but escaped... It was SCARY... and this was in what was considered a nice part of the CBD.
Well, at the rate of thuggery in Nairobi, all Nairobians (after passing a comprehensive HONEST CID/Police check) should be allowed guns!
But I feel for Obel... Those matatus just cut in front bila any signals... They are the cause of many accidents & deaths! I can't tell you how many times I thought I would die (even as a passenger) due to the reckless matatus!
@coldtusker, pole for your nasty experience. usually gun possession can work against you in a carjacking case unless you are very alert and sharp.
as for matatus those guys have no courtesy or respect. if more have guns, like obel they will be on a personal road safety sanitization mission. clear them off the road permanently.