Some few days back, after work and later heartily catching up with my girls over camel tea (for me) and them sipping what they usually call ‘normal’ tea at a restaurant in the CBD, we all went our ways.
I got into this nganya and sat at the ‘cockpit’ with the driver and an old burly guy on the left. I mean, he looked old, but when I looked at him again as he tried to force a conversation, I thought to myself – actually he isn’t that old, maybe mid 50s. Anyway, so the jav was kind of slanted and leaning towards the left, I guess because the parking spot was uneven.
Anyone could see that, but this dude on my left asks me, “Kwani hii kiti ndio mbaya? Inaanguka huku kando ama ni mimi sioni poa?” First of all, I was so tired with eyes weightily laden with sleep. Second, I don’t talk to strangers in matatus given the petrifying stories synonymous with these situations. I know better than to chit chat around.
And lastly, honestly what kind of dumb question was that? Of course the seat wasn’t falling off. I didn’t respond to him because I had no time for that. Not because I’m a stuck up person, but I like to be careful.
To keep myself entertained and immersed the only way I know how to; I took out my book, Homegoing, an award winning literary wonder by Yaa Gyasi. OMG, this book is absolutely compelling; the kind you never put down once you take in the first sentence! But that’s a story for another day. The mathree finally taxied down the road our sitting stable and comfortable.
I soon realised I wouldn’t read as planned. There were no lights in the cabin. That was a lesson learned; don’t sit at the front if you plan to read. I put my book away and stared right ahead. I wasn’t feeling the music and so I shut it out.
The good thing is, my seatmate didn’t bother me anymore. It was all smooth until a humongous bus emerged out of nowhere and almost rammed into us from the left. I screamed and was suddenly sweating profusely from the startling horror.
It would have smashed us at the front had it happened. We came to an abrupt halt with the bus on the side slightly touching the jav. The driver was surprisingly so calm and only mumbled a few words, then spoke up loudly in Kikuyu to the kange, I think asking him to take care of the situation.
I watched through the side mirror as the donda talked to the bus driver then we resumed our ride. That guy got a chance to speak to me and said, “Waah, madam wewe ni mwoga. Usijali, tuko sawa.” I just sat there speechless and scared, not getting how these two could be so calm at such a scare. I guess the driver has experienced a lot of these on the job.
I just wanted to get home. Then I thought maybe I got into the jav with bad vibes that were catching up with me. But if you are reading this, it means I got home safely.