Wassup?! You good? Me I am good.
I was in one of the towns bordering Nairobi recently. Wueh. That place showed me things. From being arranged like biscuits in a matatu (and tuk tuk on another occasion) to a wasp tormenting passengers and refusing to leave the car as if it had paid fare. Over there it's like for them COVID 19 us a rumor please.
But to say the truth this COVID caught us by surprise and adjusting to these new normals for everyone sitting by themselves in mats may take time getting used to. Mimi enyewe I am trying not to complain much because I am mostly seeing good things. For example:
1. Theft
I want to believe pickpocketing in matatus has been on the decline, and I am here for it! I remember quite vividly (thanks to Facebook memories too) the shock I had after being relieved of my Blackberry on the 10th of August 2011. Knowing me, I would still be owning that phone. It would have been our decade long anniversary this year, but I am conducting a 10th year memorial instead. As soon as I stepped out of that No. 8 matatu that fateful night, something in my spirit whispered, "You have just been pick pocketed." Sure enough. My phone was gone. I watched the bus fly off into the night and wondered why this same spirit was silent when the fool was sliding his filthy fingers into my pocket. In hindsight though, I recall the spirit making me aware the human next to me constantly trying to access an invisible object from 'his' pocket. I ignored and continued to watch the rain drops slide down the window romantically. See my life. Needless to say, we don't keep phones in pockets no more. We carry them in big gunny bags where one has higher chances of extracting a maize cob or a bomb before they get to my phone.
And when I don't have access to the gunny bag, I just sit on the aisle seat and place my phone on the next seat. It's vacant anyway.
I still remember you my Blueberry. This one is for you.
2. Wandering Eyes
It is now harder to snoop and read your neighbor's text messages, book, newspapers and any material that we were privy to pre-COVID. I must explain to judgy James and Judy that we do this to encourage reading culture in Kenya. We can't be encouraging Kenyans to read and put restrictions on where and how 😂Now one has to learn to mind their own business which is really an inconvenience to people who have made a career out of not minding their business in public transport. What are we supposed to do for content now? How are we supposed to satisfy the daily udaku quota? Have mercy!
Thankfully, the loud speakers are still in business - you know the people whose only volume preset is 'loud?' Those ones. So on occasion one boards the same matatu and you are sorted. Pity if they have to alight before you or vice versa yet the story had not ended. But yeah, we will take what we can get in these perilous times.
3. Fare
The cost of transport has obviously gone up, with fare being twice what it used to be pre-COVID. I can understand the economic impact of having to carry half your capacity but some of these operators are just greedy. Surely. Otherwise please explain how someone who lives in Kasarani is paying the same fare as one who lives in Kitengela. It's ridiculous. Now we can't even laugh at Rongai people, (btw fare ya Rongai imefika ngapi?) we are now empathizing and saying "serikali!" because most of the times I think the government should regulate public transport. This privatization is messing our pockets a beg.
4. Man spreading (and other contact sins)
Men have continued to spread. That has not changed, unfortunately. Us women folk are however celebrating the relief that comes with not having a random human's thigh rubbing against yours. Let us not forget the random elbow 'accidentally' brushing your boob too. Aol!
Now we can also spread ourselves free! Covid nyale!
5. VIP status.
We are all VIPs in matatus now, all except the backbenchers that is. Those ones are still sitting three three. On top of that, the roads still have potholes so they have to endure the constant back aches and other back seat related risks.
The most VIP seat is of course the one next to the driver.
You can now imagine he is your chauffeur and instruct him on the route and road safety rules. You are also breathing less Covid air compared to the other passengers. If you are lucky, your chauffeur will be chatty and will tell you all he knows about about this pandemic and why the cabinet secretaries are taking all of us for fools. You will say "by the waaaaaaaay," as he continues enlightening you about the need for a side hustle, his plans for the future and gikmakamago. When you finally get to destination, he will wish you a good day or night and wait for you to step out of the car before driving away.
When you sit with the rest of the herd huko nyuma, you always risk leaving a limb in the matatu because they are likely to die if they let both of your feet touch the ground before they fly away.
I wonder if matatus and Subaru drivers have zoom meetings to discuss their zooming tabias. Zoom was probably invented in Kenya as inspired by these two.
Ah. Now I am rambling 😂 but my ramblings are usually intelligent, so you are welcome.
Otherwise? Si I see you next Monday?
Matatu Methali of the Week: Ukitaka stage ya kumi hamia Githurai.
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