How CindeLaura Lost Her Shoe

Words: Chebet Birir

My journey from Eldoret to Nairobi begins at around 5pm. Being the last minuter that I am, I had spent the better part of the day running errands that should have been done earlier. So a night trip it is.

At the Northrift booking office, the booking officer is engaging me in conversation.

"Madam nikumbushe jina yako tafadhali."

In my head I am wondering why this guy is pretending to know me yet I have never ever seen him before. Heniwei, I tell him my name is Laura. Dude starts spelling out my name as he writes it down like  “ELO-OH-ARA”

Me: No no no…it’s L,A,U,R….

Booking Officer: Ooh madam! si ungesema ni LAAAURA si LORA.

I might have looked okay but deep down I had shot this guy dead. How can he pretend to know me and yet he can’t even spell my name? Na pia sipendi kuitwa madam! Why do they like calling people madam?

Me:Hapana vile inaandikwa sio vile inasemwa. Anyway, umenipea seat gani?

Him: (weirdly) “Number one madam.”
I laugh because I have no idea why this guy is whispering.

Me: Sawa nipe change basi (I had given him a thousand bob and the fare was 800 bob). It was that simple for me. I mean narudishiwa 200 bob tu. That was until Mr booking officer complicated things.

Booking officer: (Talking to a young guy who standing next to me the whole time. I later discover that he is also waiting for his change). Kijana uko na mia nipee huyu madam change?

The kijana:Hapana boss, sina.

Booking Officer: Haiya madam (at this rate enye naitwa ‘madam’ I want to remind him my name but again I can’t risk being called LAAAAURA! Let me just bitterly embrace the name ‘madam’). Sasa hata naona mnakaa na dereva pamoja pale mbele. Chukua hii mia tano madam, halafu umpee mia.

He has lost me. Ashanipoteza. Me and anything to do with numbers is kaput! Anyway, nilihesabu vidole vya miguu na mikono na vya jirani ikafika 200, nikampa hiyo 200 but I still was not sure that it was the right change!

We begin the journey and the guy tries to engage me in some small talk

“So uko Moi Uni ama?”
“Hapana,mi ni mmama nilimaliza shule kitaaaambo”
“Ooh,mimi niko fourth year Moi Uni..."

Sisi hao tukapita RUPA’s Mall, halafu Cheptiret. I then remembered I have earphones, nikaweka music and closed my eyes to avoid further conversations and awkward moments. Kidogo kidogo nashtukia gari imesimama na hatujafika Nakuru stop over (if you have used Northrift before then you know Nakubreeze).
Kumbe the guy told the driver to stop because he is feeling nauseous. He taps me and says “Excuse me kidogo nishuke, sifeel poa.” Me I panic and jump out of the car because he might throw up on me.

I don’t even get time to put my shoes on (Mi hutoa viatu nikitravel because my usually swollen foot swells even more when I sit for long hours, mpaka the shoe can’t fit).

The guy comes back and I ask him if he is okay and he says yes. I tell him sorry and go back to my music.
As we approach Nakuru I know we are going to stopover for a few minutes so I start looking for my shoes.

GHAFLA BIN VU! Punde si punde! I can’t find my other shoe!Je ne trouve pas ma chaussure! Maagere kweiyot nyuu!

I am panicking! The driver and the guy try looking for it in vain. Everyone in the shuttle now knows nimepoteza kiatu, so they are all trying to figure out how that could have happened. We conclude that it must have fallen off when I jumped out for the guy to go puke.

Guy: “Oh no! That’s my fault! Ayam sorry.”
Me:No worries. I hope wanauza sandals kwa shop. I will just buy new ones.

It then dawns on me that it’s past 9pm and all shops are closed except the restaurant.
In my head I am thinking vile,

1. Nitatembea Nairobi town bila viatu at 1 am (Hii sasa ni walk of shame ama wendawazimu)?

2. I don’t have any extra cash on me. I am totally confused right now.

I decide to call my friend nimwambie shida zangu kama kawaida. Before I even finish dialling the number, someone taps my shoulder.

"Sasa? Nasikia umepoteza kiatu?”
“Eeh but haina shida (Issa lie)."
“Hapana I have an extra pair of sandals here. Wacha nikupe kama gift.”
What? No way! I honestly did not expect that, so I ask how much I should pay her and she’s like “Nooo…Like I said nakupea kama gift, so do not pay anything. I hope they fit.” I take the sandals and put them on. Not quite my size but bora mguu iliingia kwa sandals.

There's more! Imagine the guy bought me chocolate as an apology for making me lose my shoe. I am not really a chocolate person but you should have seen the smile on my face, lol! The driver told me he will look for the shoe when he goes back to Eldoret(not sure if this was a consolation or a diss because nobody would have stolen that shoe, that shoe was 3 years old)! I was kind of attached to it though. I mean we all have that one pair of shoe that you could wear everyday, no? Okay we are different, so nisiskie mtu akisema ati ooh the sandals you were given were better than those shoes you had,ati ooh you were mistreating your shoe! Hiyo kiatu ilikua tu sawa!

Moral of this long winding story? People are still nice and humanity still exists!

Kitabu Ya Free Ni How Much?

Heheee! Kenyans! We have been caught! Tunapenda vya bwerere. We love free things oh! But there is nothing wrong with that if it won't leave you with small small embarrassment at the end.

Haya. Story story, story come.

I am running very late for a meeting that was to begin at 11 am. Bado kidogo ifike saa sita. Kencom Bus Stage is a buzz of activities as usual. Buses from different companies queue up to ferry the hundreds of Nairobians who always seem to be going somewhere important. Sio Kenyatta Market, Nairobi Hospital, Ngong Road, Yaya, Kawangware and my favorite, mwisho wa gari.

There was a time mtu aliniibia siri. Ati Citi Hoppa always fills up faster than Double M and KBS. I can't recall the reason, but I always remember this when I am running late, like I am today. Mimi huyo kwa Citi Hoppa. The only problem with these buses, yep, you guessed right - legroom. Aki mimi hakuna gari mi hutoshea except Double M. Yaani. God bless the manufacturers and management. Anyway, I find a window seat and settle as I wait for it to fill up we go. We are soon on our way.

Around the same time the conductor starts collecting the fare, this very well dressed guy stands up and begins talking. I am busy drafting apology texts so I miss his introduction. He looks like a preacher. I will catch up with the sermon in a bit. Kidogo kidogo I hear him say, "What's wrong with you people? Yaani I am giving you something for free and you are just looking at me? Kwani ninafanya makosa?"
Eh. He has me at attention with the word free. What is this people are being given? Books. What kind of books? Mathematics text books for primary and high school kids. Ah. I don't need those. You guy, this is the thing that saved me from fully cooked embarrassment. Si people are told to lift their hands if they want books! You state the level and you are given. Si people are lifting their hands like we are good mannered kids of Braeburn, Brookside Brookhouse and the ilk.

My neighbor turns to me and asks, "Yaani this man woke up, wore this beautiful suit, akachomeka na jua, jumping from one matatu to another to come give out free books? Hana kazi ya kufanya?" I respond with an exaggerated "by the waaaaay..." Meanwhile, the guy is there telling people how educating a child in Kenya is hard and if someone like him authors a Math book, we should not deny our children a chance at a simplified instruction book. Eh. I contemplate taking for my neighbour's kids. Maybe this gesture will get us talking like nyumba kumi initiative suggested. But hata sijui wako class?

A message enters my phone. I respond. I look up again. Now we are being given envelopes to keep the books. This guy thought of everything! Ama which NGO is funding him? Yaani philanthropy plus plus. #ForTheChildren. "Don't take an envelop if you don't have a book," he says with a chuckle. After the dishing out of envelopes, he lectures people again about spending time with their children teaching and solving equations together.

A woman, who I can only see her blonde hair and the age mottled dark hands holding the headrest of the seat infront, asks if he has an English text book.
"Mimi nilipita tu hesabu. Kwa hivyo ya Kingereza itakuwa ngumu kidogo. I don't have those ones. Wee chukua ile niko nayo."

I am trying not to judge a book by its cover at this point but, buda! Anyway. Let me leave this good samaritan alone. Me what have I done for humanity today?

Looks like there are no more takers. Guy closes the charity shop and says, "Sasa kama umechukua kitabu utaniachia tu mia ndio na mimi niendelee na kazi."

For a moment there, people think he is just asking for donations and giving is optional. Wapi? Guy is charging them a hundred bob for the books! Haha! I must admit, Kiswahili ya huyu jamaa na Maths ziko in the same Whatsapp group. Smooth! Me I start laughing! Unbelievable! Yaani this guy has studied the psychology of Kenyans. How we hardly ever buy or trust local products (except Chapa Mandashi baking powder, matchboxes and KDF. Of which even matchboxes we don't quite trust. I recently saw a post on Facebook where someone had counted the contents of a box only to find that there were 55 sticks out of the stipulated 60). But if given for free, our standards fly out of the window as fast as roaches scramble when a bulb is switched on in the middle of the night.

Murmuring can be heard in the bus. People are holding on to the books. Guy is insisting. One man decides he will not feel shame on me in this era of social media trending posts and pays for his. Two more follow suit. Others return. Embarrassment is so thick in the air you can cut a piece and serve with vanilla ice-cream, ndio ipoeshe aibu. The akorino lady infront of me seems devastated. Yaani nimecheswo?! She gives hers back. Mtu anarudisha na bahasha imagine! Angalau angewacha bahasha we console ourselves with.

The blonde-haired mama is now lamenting how he is unfair. You know she was the first one to lift her hand aki? She had even packed her book in her bag vizuuri. Lakini even this guy, how could he hoodwink woman old enough to be his mother? He broke her heart. I am sure she is still interceding for him. "Oh, may the Lord forgive our children." Come to think of it, this man and his kind must be the reason why a heat wave is slowly melting our skins. Sahi we are almost down to the third layer, hypodermis. Let us all just join Pastor Ng'ang'a in the wilderness and pray for this nation.

But man must eat, isn't it? Nairobi will show me things.

Team #BuyKenyaBuildKenya.

PS: Halafu hii tabia muache. Ni kabaya!
Lazima msome gazeti kwa matatu? Mkifika nayo home habari kwa ufupi itakuwa imerefuka? Tumefinyana na wewe umekazana na kufungua pages.

Kenyans, we need to do breathing exercises

Heee! But even me I am not serious! Has it really been a year since I wrote here? Alaar? Apologies. But even you people, you should have poked me or something! Is this to say you didn't miss me? Or that you can live without me? Haidhuru. Otherwise niko tu.

PS: I still don't own a car. And yes, I still board matatus. Uber pia once once. I know there have been rumors that I now own a black BMW and gikmakamago. While I want to clarify that this is not true, I would also like to say AMEN! To this thought.

Since it has been a whole while, let me beat for you a story. Dramaa!

If you have lived in Nairobi a day, and you use matatus, you have probably been warned against using your phone in the matatu, donge? I know you have. There are even caution stickers on matatus, "Chunga simu. Jirani yako ni mwizi." Yet everyday, I see people tempting akina Njoroge with their glowing six inch screens. Apparently even kabambes are not safe, but afadhali you can get a five hundred bob kabambe these days.

So this particular Tuesday, nimetoka Bible Study. It is about 10:30pm. Si you know I am still in that reflective introspective mood because roho alishuka?! I enter a No. 6 and scan the bus, as usual. We need a seat with at least 80% leg room compatibility to my long frame. This particular ride looks like it was built to favor the shorter frame - as most of them are anyway. I settle for the seat right next to the door. That will at least allow me to stretch.

It is a while before the matatu is full. Weeknights are slow. Most people are already home. The conductor calls to the driver, "Kaende!" and we hear the resultant chong'iong'ong'io bruuuuuu sound from the ignition key being turned on and the bus begins pulling out. Ghafla bin vu we hear, "Iphone yangu!"

Smh! I know y'all read that in a high pitched soprano. Repent. That is racism of gender. It was actually a man with a proper bass. Now, go and read it again the right way. Good. The bus is already moving and the guy sitting behind the driver stands and watches helplessly as iPhone disappears into the night. He sits down and says defiantly,  "Haitamsaidia!" Meanwhile  people offer their condolences and for a few minutes a discussion about Nairobi, matatus and phones ensues. A woman behind me is saying she doesn't understand why people have to use their phones in matatus. Wait till you get home!

Kumbe kule front seat, behind the dere, the victim has began feeling the pain. He asks the driver if he had seen or recognized the thief and the driver responds in the negative. The guy insists that the driver must know the thief, because how can someone come to your office to steal and you don't see him? Even better, stop him? He is engaging his neighbor in this logical exploration of truth and comes to the conclusion that the driver must produce the thief.

At this point  I am thinking the trauma has began kicking in. Maybe hata ilikuwa iPhone X. What's the latest one? That one. But even you, if you own such a phone, I hope you have insured it. Mine cost 20k and it has life insurance with benefits extending to dependants like charger, phone case and memory cards. Plus, eh. Why are you in a matatu at 10:30pm? If you own such a gadget, unajipea tu curfew ya 7pm roho safi. It is what it is.

Passengers are now telling him that he is being irrational. It's no one's fault. Well, maybe his. Why was his window open? Is he new in Nairobi? Even New Yorkers know - when you come to Nairobi  buy a kabambe if you want to use your phone in a matatu.
Things are escalating. A few people are alighting at Guru Nanak Hospital stage. Suddenly, the guy stands up and declares he is going to report the matter at Pangani Police Station and that the crew should get him there. Wololo!

The conductor shuts the door and also declares we are all going to the station. Declarations are being made left, right and centre in this kingdom! Wacha now a sea of voices rise up. People are now shouting, "Wacha ujinga! Tupeleke nyumbani!" Wengine wetu tunaamkia kazi! " "Kwani hiyo simu yako ni oxygen?" Long story short, we find ourselves at the Pangani Police Station gate.

Me I still introspecting. The spirit has not left me. Nimenyamaza kama maji ya mtungi. My neighbor must be the meek type. He is just clutching his shopping tightly. I suspect his dinner is in there. Samosa, fries.

We are now at the gate. The victim alights and the driver and conductor follow. Wait, did I say he alighted? No. He approached the door and pushed the conductor out. Wawuuu. Dramatic much?! Things have now escalated a hundred per cent. Everyone wants to talk and be listened to. Tempers are flaring. People are being abusive. A cop enters and every one is like "Afande! Afande, huyu mtu ameibiwa simu town, why are we here?" Anafaa akubali hii ni ajali."

After lots of back and forth, the cop orders that we are taken home. There is however one problem, the driver has also decided to file harassment charges against the iPhone baba. So there is no one to drive us home, not until he is done recording a statement. Again, no one is breathing.  Kelele! Finally, the conductor takes the reigns. In my head, Carrie Underwood's number, 'Jesus take the Wheel' is playing.

I don't know if it is the tension or pressure  but for a while there, it looks like the conductor is in a driving school class. People are still shouting, "wewe endesha vizuri!" "Piga Kona hapa." Eh. At this point  I find my voice and tell everyone to shut up! Their rants are not helping the situation one bit. If anything their exasperation is creating more problems.

The bus goes quiet except for one mama who looks like she is high on some cheap stuff. She is getting off at the next stop but she wants to keep shouting in Coastarean Kiswahili. You know how annoying that sounds? I face her. "Madam shuka utuondokee na hiyo kelele yako. Hata sisi twataka kufika salama."

Now she wants to argue  She stands up and I chuckle as the thought of my six foot self over the five incher crosses my mind. Lol. Ninaweza maliza mtu, only the Holy Spirit has enabled me to practice self control in such times. Plus, who wants to go back to Pangani for assault?

I get off at the next stage and wish the others going to Eastleigh journey mercies. Wueh. Worra night!

But seriously Mkenya mwenzangu. How are you doing? Mentally? Are you always at the elastic limit waiting for provocation that will have you breaking? Let me tell you what I saw in that matatu was not healthy at all. If someone was carrying a gun or knife, there would have been injuries my fren.

So right now, breath innnnnn....
Breath outttttttt...

Again...

Repeat every often, with an awareness of your present state of mind. That release will help, somewhat, as we think about how to deal with Nairobbery.

Have a stress free day, will you?

See you soon (promise)!