Removing cobwebs in the living room edition

Hey! How goes it? If you are reading this it means rona has not sank its ugly fangs into your skin yet. Yey! But wueh! What a weird couple of months it has been! Glad to see you here. Even me I am glad to see me here...after 5 months...cough cough (This is a 'I am a little embarrassed' cough. Not anything life threatening). Cough! 

Otherwise, like I said up there, this is the removing cobwebs from the living room and check up edition. I would love to get a wave from you at the end (that will cover the check up part). The cobweb cleaning part starts now... 

I am bored in the house so I decide to go to one of the malls in the neighborhood for some window shopping.

Free advice: If you are going for window shopping just carry your eyes and feet. Leave your hands and wallet at home. Otherwise, you will spend on; "ah. I better take this now that I have seen it. Who knows how many people are looking for it. I may not find it next time..." or on "wooow. I had not budgeted for it but this cup just speaks the truth about me and chocolates." The list is endless. So yes, leave your hands and especially, your wallet at home.

The 'window' shopping lasts about three hours. Time is so sneaky. You focus your gaze elsewhere for two minutes, time supersonic's two hours ahead. I swear that is what happened. By the time I got outside all  thoughts of walking home had been trashed. I cross the busy highway to go get a mat.

On the other side, a kamagera approaches me and asks where I am headed. Kamageras are the guys at the stage who help conductors find commuters for a small fee. They are the ones who shout "wawili ijae!" but when you enter you find that there are only two of you in the vehicle - you and the poster of Mariah Carey or Jua Cali on the roof. 

I ignore this particular kamagera because, wueh! The fumes that come from his mouth threaten to suffocate me to death. No way I am doing my best to avoid rona then small small let these fumes that I can hear penetrating my surgical mask and dissect my liver kill me. Adagi! Whatever this guy had drank, strength to his kidneys. 

"Madam kwani hutaniongelesha?" 

Silence. 

"Unaenda wapi siste?"

"Silence."

"Hata unaringa na umevaa kama conda. Nkt." 

Low blow. I was wearing  maroon pants that I only use during field work, miles away from Nairobi. But Michuki (Rip) surely, you just decided we will never wear maroon without being stereotyped again? Isorait. 

I hear you laughing. Stop. It's not funny. Ok. Maybe a little. Even me I chuckled kidogo as I took my place at the curb next to other commuters waiting for transport. 

I wait a whole thirty minutes for a matatu, wapi? All of the ones stopping want me to go to Ruiru, Meru, Marsabit, Thika, Somalia - anywhere but home. At some point one from my route slows down a couple of meters from where I am standing. Relieved, I start running towards it. I hate chasing matatus, but this is the first one that has stopped since I began my vigil approximately 30 years ago. Plus, it isn't a 14 seater. You know me...I don't do 14 seaters unless the trumpet has cried and it is the last matatu going to the rapture meeting point. I am not missing heaven because of my knees. La hasha! Anyway, I ruuun and as I am almost touching the bus' smoky rear it suddenly starts snaking away.

 Alaaar.

The conductor starts gesturing that the bus is full. I slow down and watch as it speeds away. I have many questions, top on the list being they didn't know the bus was full when they stopped and the conductor beckoned me? Yaye. I am born again, so I will not call them useless. 

You guys think the walk of shame is that walk you do when you are from your best half's place wearing the previous day's clothes. No. I don't even know why y'all call it that. Next time you do that walk, put a spring to it. Kwani? Si it was a great night? Glorious even? Strut it! The real walk of shame is the one you have do back to the stage after you ruuuuun after a mat and it leaves you for whatever reason. You pass humans thinking to themselves and because you are a mind reader you see their thoughts saying, "Usain bolt has come back." You give them the look for "mind your business, Kimani" and begin phase two of the wait.

Ah. I should tell you about the couple that passed me some minutes after I got to the stage. A tall guy and a short mama reaching him just above the waist. They were holding hands and before I could say "awwww" the part of my brain that does not know romance, asked loudly, "hawa waogopi Corona?" But what is rona in the face of love? I remember noticing the lady wearing Bata ngomas and a cute dress that made her look like a doll. She also had long braids that hung past her butt. The guy tilted his neck towards her to listen to her stories. Awww. I watched them walk away till they disappeared into the hurrying evening masses, seemingly immune to what was making the rest trip over themselves.

I would spot them from my matatu seat kilometers later, still walking at the same pace, same bliss. Literally lost in their own world. I just concluded that what I am missing in this Nairobi is a tall neck tilting man to hold my hand and listen to my stories as we slowly walk home. This would have saved me not only time (would it have though) but also the twenty bob I ended up paying to a stop that was not even home.

Who am I kidding? Which hand would have been held yet I had bought the whole mall?

But just imagine. What if all of us had that man, or woman who enjoys long walks? When some of these matatu thugs add fare, we just hold each other's hands and walk home...mos mos. Matatus would not joke with us the way they are used to. 

Amen.

Sanitize! 

Matatu Saying of the Week: Kama uko na haraka itisha ambulance.

Matatu Rides In The Corona Virus Era (11 tips on how to protect yourself)

Otherwise? How are you? Great? Awesome.

Since Corona Virus decided it will compete with Malaria, HIV and cancer in killing us, some of us have been thinking of ways to avoid infection. Salaams are now elbow bumps or 'namaste.' We have refused to shake hands like this like this, but apparently if you are a matatu user, you have been shaking a thousand hands per second.

Imagine it's the truth!

From the frame you hold when getting into the car to the overhead bar aka javelin and the seats, fingerprints and Corona stamps are everywhere in that matatu.

Halafu, I believe cases of people coughing in matatus have significantly reduced. No one wants to be a Corona suspect, so when a coughing urge arises, you lock it inside and shed tears. Si we know how Kenyans can be paranoid and just throw you outside to go die further than far from them? But these same Kenyans will not open a window in a stuffy matatu. They would rather die from Corona than get some cold wind blowing on their faces. You just keep saying that the immune system of Africans is stronger than chuma ya doshi. Shauri yenu.

So, in the spirit of earning the space I am currently occupying in this my house where our neighbor has decided to be drilling a borehore day and night, I would like to give you some tips on how to protect yourself in matatus.

You are welcome, in advance.

• Say a prayer and bind every spirit of Corona when entering and alighting the matatu. The Bible says that "The prayers of the righteous availeth much." It is of course tricky if you are unrighteous. Maombi yako will just reach the matatu roof and fall down. Okokeni please.

• Don't breath.
• Wear a mask
• Look at your neighbor badly if/when they attempt to breath in your direction.
• Wear gloves
• Sit near a window and open it wide. If someone tells you to shut it, turn and cough on their face.

• Tell the conductor to keep change. We are not handling other people's monies please.
• Buy that thermometer? they are using at airports and scan potential seatmates.
• Wash your hands once you get home or wherever you are going. Wash them properly. With soap. Mens, are you listening? The clothes you were wearing outside, burn them as soon as you can. 
• Don't dwell on corona thoughts. Think about locusts and if they finally reached Bungoma. Did they survive the wrath of the Luhyas? Is there anything they can't eat? Why would the government waste time warning the people not to eat the locusts? Also, what if these locusts are Chinese? They smelt Corona from a far and began migrating long before people started getting infected? Ghai. Pertinent questions.
• Finally, read previous issues of Matatu Chronicles here. I have heard people (reliable sources) say they are funny. Corona does not like people commenting 'lmao' 'lol' 'wawuuuu' with their brains, or even ribs cracking. So finish this really important piece and go read the less serious ones.

Si I have helped you? Great. Go have yourself a nice, cough free week. See you next week. I am serious. See you next week.

Matatu Methali of the week: Kupeana 1000 au 500 na fare ni 20 or 30 ni ungwana?

How I Almost Met Your Father Too

I was watching 'The Wedding Show' a few years ago when I heard one of the most interesting stories about #HowIMetYourMother. The man described how he was attracted to his wife's long fingers before he even saw her. They were in a matatu and I imagine it was one of those rough rides. A sudden braking could have had the woman holding on to dear life, and as they say, they rest is history.

The last thing I usually want is to be hit on in a matatu. At night. Priss. Let me collect #MatatuChronicles data in peace, better yet sleep or read a book (Wajuaji, we are reading on Kindle or e Reader Prestigio). This past week however, something happened.

First of all, let me apologize. I boarded a matatu that was already full. I know, shame on me - but imagine it was 2130hours and I was really tired. I didn't even know it was full because when you ask the conductor "Kuna kiti?" He says, "Mingi! Hata huwezi maliza madam!" Then you get in and realize Ala? There are many seats alright, 66 in some cases, but what you should really ask is if there is an unoccupied seat. Not a free seat, an unoccupied seat. Again, these conductors can be very smart mouthed. 

So yeah, got in, all these tired eyes are looking at me those ones for, "Aren't you that Matatu Chronicles chic who always tells people not to get into a matatu that's full because no one wants your butt on/in their faces? See your miserable self!" But me I was carrying mangoes so I wasn't gonna get into a fight with anyone and lose this preciousness that Mo gave me with a clean (h)eart (That's a shout out  to the one Kamba friend who cares for me 😂). Right. My butt is there on someone's face as the journey continues.

Along the way, we pick more people and I just want to cry because that means I have to keep moving further back the aisle and inconvenience these seated saints. I start thinking happy thoughts like how when I get home I will wash two mangoes and bite into them simultaneously. I imagine the soup/juice running down my arm and me licking it with my tongue. I feel a smile on my lips. So good! I am sorry if I grossed you out, but these are MY happy thoughts. Go have yours.

I become aware of my smiling and in that moment, I lock eyes with a bespectacled gentleman to my left (Lakini, if they are wearing glasses do we still call that locking eyes? These are important questions). I smile again, more awkwardly actually and he immediately responds by standing his over six foot (😉) self up and offering me his seat. Mayooo! What in the name of this does not happen in Kenya anymore is this man doing? Imagine I told him I am okay, and he responded by telling me, "No, you are too beautiful." Wueh! #ChivalryIsNotDead #YouAreBeautifulItsTrue...

Of course I know I am beautiful. In fact beautiful does not begin to even describe me, but I will take it (go roll your eyes ova theyaaaa 👉🏾) I accept the seat and thank him for his kindness.

"I was raised by a woman," is all he says.

I ask him where he gets off and coincidentally, that's my stop too. I was hoping he would continue with his journey so I could take that five minute walk I love in peace, but no, fate had other ideas.

"Thanks again for your kindness. I really appreciate." I tell him again when we shuka.

"I am not kind, just responsible and sensible."

"Well, whatever it is, it's appreciated."

He asks where I live so he can make sure I get home safe (No way I am telling him where I live. I have been watching too much of the ID (Investigative Discovery) channel on GoTv and I think my paranoia levels are up a few degrees. I decline the gesture. He asks if I am married. I say no. He throws a fist into the air and shouts "Yes!" He doesn't care if I am seeing someone, bora tu sio marriage.

I really am tired and I just want to go eat my mangoes. Surely. Fatigue says, "Just give him your number we see what he will do with it." He is 6ft after all. 

But this tall man and his nice spectacles and good manners and alcohol laced breath burnt his picture and failed all his ancestors when he asked, "Ni save nani?"

GASP!

Imagine we had just introduced ourselves less than five minutes ago. Cheki huyu. He had burnt the whole album. So I look up to heaven and tell God, "See your sons. These are the heirs to your kingdom. Fix it Lord! " 

So close!

Matatu Methali of the Week:  

Kabla hujanichukia, jiulize, je, una msaada gani kwangu?

Happy New Month! Have a good one! 

10 things you must start or continue doing in matatus in 2020

Happy New Year Mafans! Imagine I am still alive! Praise Jesus! You may have already made your 2020 goals (of course, it's February) but allow me to pile on the pressure. On this first post this year, here are matatu ride goals for you!

1. Greet your neighbor

Greet them. If you hear their breath smelling bad, abstain from more engagement. Engage further if you want to but also remember there are better things to do like sleep.

Light bulb: This could be an opportunity to do personal CSR. Mint, water for everyone with a stinking mouth 💦💦

2. Peep at your neighbor's phone/book/newspaper

You could save all our lives, for instance, if the text message is that one confirming bad things being planned (sijasema al-shabaab)
Again, if anxiety won't let you sleep, peeping at your neighbors resources is a great way to while time away.
Finally, because #UdakuIsLife. We just can't resist putting our noses into someone's business. Cue music  🎵 Tell them that's it's human nature... 🎸

3. Sing along to the driver's playlist

This was, still is one my 2020 goals. To just show off my vocal range to an audience that could care less about my ability to speak, let alone sing. Oh, and the Lord has been good to me, pairing me up with drivers with amazing reggae and soul play lists. Once in a while the devil will whisper to the driver and he will play akina Wamlambez. I guess I need to be okay with the fact that there are people that want to chant Wamlambez in the matatu too. Look, I am not okay with it, but I will allow it (while casting all those demons out, sheteteteee).
Point is. Sing. Sing till the speakers go silent and it's just you and the imaginary choir adorning purple robes backing you up.

4. Reject old notes from the conductor
Because why should you accept old notes? If I give you new notes, you give me new crispy notes for change, and vice - versa.

5. Sleep
Imagine you are sitting back left in your state of the art automobile. Your chauffeur is of course piloting. You either woke up early to beat traffic or are stuck in traffic during the evening rush hour.
Warning: Hopefully they won't attempt to drug you and steal your everything, including sweet dreams.

6. Scold another passenger for littering
I am that one. I will just fall short of saying, "don't be stupid. Littering is stupid. Is this the legacy you want? Stupidity?." Not much to be said here, if you are not already doing it, I want to encourage you start being your brother's keeper.

7. Choose seats based on the other person's weight/gender

I have said this before, if you are going to occupy one and a half seats, just sit well well and pay for two seats.This is not fat shaming, it is being fair because the other person sitting half assed might get thrown out of the window when the driver hits the emergency brakes (also, I am pro life 😊). So yes, I choose seats based on how I will fit. Petite ladies are my favorite seat mates. God bless them. Stop looking at me like that. You do it too.

Gender. Well. Ever since mens began jerking off live live in Public Service Vehicles (PSVs) I can't, unless it is an emergency, sit next to someone's son. No sir. Especially not at the back seat. In short, I don't feel safe.
Plus. Man spreading. Ptho!

8. Bargain
Hamsini tao, tao fifty!
Si thirty?
Fifty madam
Ah. Mimi niko na thirty. (steps off the curb) Wacha tu ningoje ingine.

The economy demands it. Tomorrow when they say thirty you say twenty. Are we together?

9. Master which side the sun is.

Eii. But why don't I get this right, ever? I am always smelling like roasted meat when I alight because I just couldn't figure out the sun's placement at certain hours. Am I alone in this? Are you all scientists with a degree in astronomy or something? How do you know these things?

10. Helping the driver curse another matatu/motorist
Admit it. You have done it before. You are sitting upfront with the driver. He calls out another road user and you feel it is your life's sole purpose to back him up. "Some people should not be given licenses aki. (add click for punch)." Meanwhile it is your driver who should be somewhere working as a sprinkler because between the saliva storms and the swerves, he would honestly be better off at a lawn somewhere, watering the grass.
But our loyalty shifts like tectonic plates. Tomorrow he will be on the receiving end because we will be in the other matatu. Awww. Equal opportunities.

Bonus: Wear 'nguo mbaya'
Ladies, apparently fellow passengers have to approve of your dressing every day. If you slip, someone might just blurt out, "Umevaa nguo mbaya." So yes, you are normal. All of us get told that every so often.

Matatu Methali of the week: Songea mwenzako, starehe ni kwako.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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)!