THE WEEK THAT WAS (Part 1)

The Iron Anaconda

I have to start by categorically start without mincing my words that I always cruise my own way to work but last week I had to join the animal farm.

Some High School Students, after me, studied a literature book known as “The Animal Farm”. I understand that in this book, there is a phrase “all animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others”.

The week ending yesterday, was more equal than others.
In the recent times, life has become more equal than before. Therefore, a serious person who went to Ngere High School, like me, had to device a method of dealing with the so called high cost of living. My Pastor said, “when the economy is going down, yours shall go up!!” and I remember not only shouting the biggest “Amen” but also standing up on my feet!!! In our church, when the pastor brings out a pregnant point that touches you – the least you can do is to shout a fat AMEN, raise your hand or stand on your feet and if you want the point to be part & parcel of you, you get into ua wallet, take an offering and walk straight to the altar, and place it right there where God can see it (The angels will pick it after the service). Indeed it is true that by faith your economy can never go down – Amen?

One day when I went back home, cruising my own fully paid 4-wheel automobile (I have to state what I cruise lest you say I drive a Fielder), my God given eyes scanned my house to figure out any excess liability that can be done away with. I placed the TV, Man with the Base (Sony Music System for those who are less equal than others), DVD Player, iron box as the parasites that inflate my electricity bill. I couldn’t figure out which one is more equal than the rest..so I decided to spare them all. I had earlier disconnected the major liability – the water heater. Nowadays everybody must pray and fast before getting into the washroom lest you shout at the top of your voice when the pathetically cold natural resource drives its way across your dirty back! This makes me remember one day a visitor, from the village, came knocking at my door without notice. On his first day we gave him a rare natural treatment – warm water. On the third day, the human being still showed no signs of vacating the premises..so? I asked the queen to give him very cold water just to make him know that this is not Kisumu Rural but Nairobi City. A city where everything, including water, is costly. A city where you don't just pop up, without notice, for a visit. The human being walked majestically into the bathroom with the anticipation of the usual natural liquid treatment. Needless to say what happened thereafter. “Uuuuuuwiiii!!!!!!!!! Woi!! Woi!!! Woi!!!” You’ve never heard a black uncircumcised Luo man shouting at the top of his voice. My neighbours thought the guy was being swallowed by something bigger than the great anaconda. The rest is history.

Back to my original story. Next, my eyes went to the private rooms (the washrooms – yawa). My dad used to tell us..”kaw oboke” (Take the plant leaves) [Note for the foreign readers: in the village, we sometimes used plant leaves in place of tissue papers...enough said]. I couldn’t subject my kingdom to such in this time and age. Other families have resorted to old newspapers for the same function – life is hard. Old newspapers is also not a very sweet thing to deal with. You have to learn its tricks lest you embarrass yourself. That is another story for another day.

The bathroom had all kinds of soaps and those things that make the queen beautiful. I couldn’t dare touch a thing there. If you want to be a good husband, don’t start reducing your expenses with those items that touch on your wife. Free advice. Your wife must do anything & everything possible to maintain her beauty.

To make the long story short, I decided to be selfless and reduce the expenses which touch on myself. I decided to be taking the bus in the morning and the train in the evening. This is where things became very elephant.

I work in Upperhill not River Road. That is to say to catch up with the 5:30pm train meant I had to leave the office at exactly 5pm. It also meant that I had to literally but majestically walk my way downhill to the Railways Station. “Climbing” a matatu would be a waste of time due to the heavy traffic at the NHSF junction. This is the junction where vehicles, matatus, automobiles and tuk tuks literally kiss each other. The worst part is that the automobile owners do always argue with the PSV guys hence always attracting the intervention of police officers (for those who do not know, in this part of the world there is a big difference between a car and an automobile).

On my very first day, I was motivated by my colleagues who have perfected the art of trekking. Brethren, trekking is an art not a science. This art requires prayers and fasting coupled with a lot of faith. Why? It combines a very delicate balancing issue both in the brain and the surrounding environment. Imagine walking downhill and somebody comes behind you “Excuse!!! Excuse!!!” with very heavy luggage!! As soon as you move for the guy another cartoon, who is stuck in traffic hoots at you mercilessly!! The moment you move sideways, a human being heading to Kibera on a manual bike rings those loud bicycle bells at you and when you try crossing the road to the other side you bump into another confused fellow trying to find his way to your side of the road. Confusion galore!!!!

We arrived on time at the station only to be surprised at guys in brown attire shouting at us “Boss! Boss! Boss!” At least somebody knew that I was a boss. I realized that these were “moving cashiers” who were interested in taxing my hard earned money in exchange for “climbing” their very ugly colonial snake! I gave one of them Sh. 100 and to my surprise, I was given a receipt together with Sh. 60 change!! Wau!!! Life must be cheap on this side of the world.

“Puuuuuuup” the train pilot was tired of waiting for me and was set to leave…. But I still had two gates to deal with. It had to take skill effort to struggle through the two gates. I was born in Kisumu Rural and there is no way I could have missed the iron anaconda. For those of you who have watched “Outsourced” you know what I'm talking about. Ooh noo!!! My executive coat was minus one button when I eventually got into the train!!

Life in the train is not very easy. You know some of us were heading to Umoja (main houses), others to Buru Buru (Extensions), the rest were heading to Mathare valley, Kasarani and those sides of ushagoo. So I expected those who were going far to stand from the seats so that some of us could have a chance to sit!! Bad mannered human beings refused to corporate! “Kawuono olimwa gi jotayi – omera piny kara tek ne ji tee)” (Today we’ve been visited by those in tires – this life is hard for everybody) One yet to be circumcised Luo man whispered rudely. I looked at my surrounding and I was the only one in a tie. I quickly removed it and put it my pocket.

Next came this malicious mama selling ground nuts. “Tano tano njuguuuuu..nani baaaaadooo” (Nuts going for five shilling...anyone not yet served?). She was saying it in a very irritating manner while looking straight at my eyes. I felt abused. My dad used to tell me “Son, if you want to live well with a woman, eat a lot of nuts”. Now you understand why I didn’t like her looking at me that way. The next woman also came selling the same stuff but in a different patented version “NJUGS!! NJUGS!! NJUGSS!!!” She was advertising in capital letters!! Why could she just say “Njugu”? I think she was hired, by my many enemies, to irritate me.

It is only in the train that those who sit and those who stand pay equal fare. I guess those who sat were more equal than those of us who were standing. Even in my standing position, I could see outside because of the multitude of people who thronged around me. I’m sure they were up to something sinister. At a point i felt some fingers moving through my pockets. I had to tightly "hug" myself.

I had been told that Mtindwa stage is the second stop from the railways station. After the first stop, I penetrated my way to the door so as to manage to see outside and also alight in time before the train behaves. As soon as I reached the door, I saw Mtindwa stage but this thing was still moving!!! I shouted, “tell him to stop!!!” The Mathare Valley guys looked at me as if I was from another planet. The thing moved with such speed as if it had no intention of stopping. I was rudely meant to realize that had climbed the wrong wagon which was next to the head of the snake. I was supposed to climb the one on the stomach. Imagine, while the stomach was at Mtindwa, the head was at Caltex (Now Total) and the tail way back at Donholm. This snake was like a kilometer long!

“Omera miya tikedno kata wadhiri piny” (Brother, give us that ticket of yours or we throw you down), one rude guy spoke to me in my native language.Since I’m a peace loving Kenyan, I obliged.
I had to do some walking, to the house, on the muddy black cotton soil. That day I saved a lot of cash which I eventually used to fix my button and wash my designer suit which begs the question – was it really necessary to board that pathetic python?

Tomorrow I will tell you how our Citihoppa buss kissed the behind of a CRV before the rains poured cats & dogs.

I remain yours

Migingo Awat

{Note: This real life experience took place in mid August, 2011}