LOST PART 2: Ndenderu Na Hukoooo

Hi!

Have you ever been to Ndenderu?

Hold that thought…

Did you know that a lot of people would rather get lost in Nairobi than ask for directions? To stay safe in the capital you must assume you are the only good person on these streets. That woiye looking old mama asking to use your phone is working in cahoots with some thieves who will steal your phone then get you beaten to a pulp if you fall for their trick. That person you ask for directions may point you to a dark alley and proceed to relieve you of the little wealth you have amassed in Nairobi, the city under the sun.

There are of course exceptions. There are people who will even offer to take you to your desired location. Free of charge! They will not ask for chai or worse, look at you with those eyes of “even you don’t feel shame on me leaving me empty?”

I just felt I should say the above. It may or may not have something to do with this week’s post.

Me I don’t know Nairobi. I am not the kind of person you call to show you this city. It is too big for me. I have been here for nine years now and I just go where I need to go and back to my humble abode. The only person I have defeated with my knowledge of this maze is a foreigner. So you can imagine my surprise the other day when I found out that one can access Ruaka from Kiambu road with a matatu. Mi kitambo I would just go all the way to Ngara and get a mat there. My comber friend told me that I just tell the conductor to drop me at Ruaka stage.

Haya. Si I get into the 14-seater. Of course my legs don’t fit on their designated space. Halafu, they are carrying excess, so I can’t even use the space next to me for relief. Anyway, I was told it won’t be long before I alight. I sat back and waited to see my landmark for Ruaka, QuickMart Supermarket. It doesn’t appear so me I am like hatujafika. Kidogo kidogo the matatu stops and people alight. Total Ruaka is the stage. Hmmm. I do not remember seeing this before. Anyway, I haven’t seen Quickmart so I lean back.

I am carrying a crate of eggs and frozen chicken for my friend. The chicken is there sweating sweating and making me feel uncomfortable. I hope we get there soon jamani.

We spend about five long minutes at total calling for passengers who might be headed to or towards Ndenderu. They were not many, so we continue with our journey. I had paid 20 bob for this trip and I was like, eh! This friend has saved for me at least 30 bob. Bless her. But now, I start getting worried. My Quickmart is nowhere to be seen. My eyes are just beholding mountains of soil at the side of the road. Eh. Where did the fruit and vegetables guys go na vile they dot the streets of Ruaka the way the corona red dots populate the map of the world? As in they are usually many!

There must be an explanation for this, I thought.

At some point, the car cuts a corner and my esophagus panics. Maybe it was me wondering how 20 bob can take one so far in these times of rona. Plus, aiii? Ruaka can’t have changed overnight like this. Manze the weather has even changed. The kamageras, those helping the kanges call for customers are now of full Kikuyu mode. Wololo! Iko shida. When the matatu comes to a halt and more people alight, I call the conductor and ask him, “Si ulisema unaingia Ruaka?”

The look on the guy’s face just told me I had messed up. Remember that Total Ruaka where we stood for 60 minutes? Well. That was my stop. My frens! I am in Ndenderu and environs! Mr. man tells me to just cross the road and hail a matatu heading to Ruaka. “Ni mob! And they will just charge you 20 bob.” I step out and the Kiambu road mud kisses Ndenderu mud. I would like to say it was love at first sight, but I was not paying attention. My eyes are now seeing a big sign written ‘Ndenderu.’

I cross the road and soon enough another 14 seater comes. He! Kwani people of Ndenderu got the rona vaccine and we don’t know? Social distancing is a myth. We have been packed paki – like biscuits. Selected few have masks. The chicken is still sweating and the eggs are nodding to every bump in acknowledgement. The conductor is talking about how so many businessmen have lost premises due to the ongoing road works. Well, I assume that’s what he is saying because he is pointing at the buildings marked ‘X’ and shaking his head too. The woman next to him humors him and the conversation continues. The driver and I both have our eyes on the road for very different reasons. I am not about to get lost again.

You can’t imagine the laugh my host let out when I told her the story. Sigh. Some people can’t even see you are carrying goodies and you can just decide to go back with them.  

Also, Ndenderu people you must do better. How is it that the first image on Googling Ndenderu is one of women raiding bars over illicit brews? Kwanza that’s the profile pic Google has given you. Makosa.

Matatu Methali of the Day: Kama hutaki kukalia kiti cha nyuma basi ng’oa uweke mbele.

 

LOST PART 1: When Is The Last Time You Went For Raundi Mwenda?

I want to tell you a funny story about something that happened to me recently. Oi. I should not have said ‘funny,’ because what if it is not funny haha? Well then maybe you will feel like I felt on that particular day- slightly embarrassed and very swindled.

Before we go any further I should offer the disclaimer that I mostly do not trust Google Maps. It has taken me places I should not have been in the first place. Imagine following that lady’s voice to a burning bush near Mt. Sinai yet you were headed to a residence in upmarket Nairobi. It is not funny. The destination on my right is not quite right, Ma Google.

My preference for mode of transport within Nairobi is matatus. If you are a regular foreigner on this blog you already know what matatus are. The following description is for the newbies especially those who do not live in this my country. Matatus are public service vehicles in Kenya. If you do a quick matatu search on Google (and no, the irony is not lost on me) you will see mini-buses with graffiti. A further scroll down south will reveal 14- seater nissans. Now that we are all hopefully on the same page, let’s continue.

Matatus in Kenya have conductors who collect your fare and alert the driver to stop where you are meant to alight. Side note, I was on a plane the other day and I heard the air hostess telling us that we should wait for the plane to come to a complete halt before we disembark. Allow me to bring to your attention that you disembark from planes and sort of just alight from matatus. Weird, because I think alight and flight rhyme so they should go together. I will however not belabor this point because English came by ship and entered my life through the back door and as such has never been my official language.

Ah. The side note interrupted us. I was saying that the good thing with matatus is that you can mostly trust the conductor to drop you at the desired stage. Sometimes isht happens and you find yourself at the burning bush because the conductor forgot so he gives you twenty bob to board another matatu which charges you thirty bob to take you back to your stop. Sigh. In spite of this and 99 other hiccups, matatus work just fine for me.

Now for the funny story… I urge you to laugh before I begin. It will encourage me.

I was on the internets on this particular day when I saw an ad by this man selling something of interest for what I thought was a fair price. It was actually. I promptly booked the item(s) and asked for the pin.

(Btw kumbe pin is not a universal language? Someone from the UK asked me what that is when I casually told her “tuma pin.” I had to explain that it is the map thing on Google).

A pin was sent. I asked if I could access the place using matatus. I was so relieved when the response came in the affirmative together with the name of the stop. I was then directed to call once I alight. Now this is where it gets complicated. Sijui which devil whispered to this woman, I mean me, to open Google Maps when I got off the matatu yawa. I loaded my bundles and proceeded to walk a kilometer in a direction I thought was accurate. A beg. It wasn’t. The good thing is that if I ever need to go to a certain hospital or some particular posh residences, I will not have a problem.

I did an about turn like I was taught during my short lived scouting days and went back where I had come from. It seemed like I had gotten it right this time around because I crossed the road and saw a road that was displayed on the map. The lady kept telling me to just walk straight. I waaaaalked till I started doubting I was on the right track. I gave up and called an Uber. I could feel that I was close and reasoned that the most I would spend is 150 bob. I know. That is still a lot of money in these rona times, but I was tired owada.

Why did I not call the host as instructed? I don’t know. Imagine I don’t. I don't know why are asking me questions that are causing me saviya pain. Anyway, the Uber comes and we begin a ten minute raundi mwenda in the area. For those challenged in Kiswahili, raundi mwenda means going round in circles like madness.

The map was not helping us. Two things, either the host had given me an inaccurate pin or Ma Google was not in the mood. Everyone we asked pointed us to Mt. Sinai, like the map. I finally remembered to call the host when we ran out of watchmen (pronounced soja for maximum respect) to ask for directions. I informed him as a matter of urgency that I was in an Uber about to update my Facebook status “Feeling lost with one other.”  He gave very specific directions and in like two minutes the car was standing infront of his gate.

The Uber driver was the first to break the silence after the engine quit covering the awkwardness. 

“Madam, si ni hapa nilikuchukua?”

We had gone for raundi mwenda for ten minutes only to end up at the exact spot the driver had picked me.  

“That will be 180 shillings please,” he announced before picking a call. He had another customer to attend to. 

I calmly send him his money. It was that calmness for embarrassment and slight anger. Amid all these mafeelings, I managed to ask him what prayer he had made that morning because it clearly trumped mine.

“Mimi huwa naomba asubuhi madam. Wewe huwa huombi? Anyway, hii story usichapie mtu. Itabidi umejiwekea tu. He said amid laugher. How many stars did I give him? Well…

I mean, I had to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Surely. Why me? Me who just wanted to spend a maximum of 200 bob on fare that day? Why do bad things happen to people trying to survive Nairobi? 

And that, ladies and gentlemen is how I was reminded of how I operate. You send me a pin, I see it, ignore and proceed to choke and affect you with phone calls until I reach your door step. I needed this unfortunate experience on my wallet and time to get pointed back to my north, without a map. 

Matatu Methali of the Day: Tafadhali usishike dereva mgongo!