A STING

I write this early in the morning, at 6:20 in the A.M to be precise. I am doing this this early why? Because I’m tired and fed up with us! Yes us Kenya’s. I’d say Africans but I’d rather start with home. They say charity begins at home, don’t they.

I am proud to be a Kenyan, I mean take a look at the rugby team, our athletes and our tourism industry but just to mention afew. We are doing great! Aren’t we? Well despite this I’m still tired. Fed up with us-the people who cheer onto our comrades in the international scene but sit comfortably in our lives and do nothing. We contented beings who don’t take chances! I mean the rugby team tried 142 times!! Goddammit 142 times!

Smh! I’m fed up why? As ar now you should have a clue.  But I’m gonna tell you my reason as you let that number -142 sink in.

Well for starters, poor service. OMG! I think that needs to be in uppercase.
POOR SERVICE. I write this from a matatu as I commute from Rongai. Our little village, yes I call it a village- I live in it and unless you do don’t refer to it as one. Why I call it so, I’ll explain later.

Anyway I just boarded a matatu and right before I get to my seat the driver oblivious to the term inertia starts up the vehicle and then randomly stops. Now, if you studied physics or just simply are a good driver or reasonable human being you would understand the impact of such movement. I got thrown into a frantic dance, trying to perpendicularize my axis of reference so that my C.G isn’t destabilized, and at the same time holding onto my bag. I am soo pissed that I wanna alight the darn vehicle but I’m nearer my seat than the door. Plus I figure out that the darn driver would pull the same move and I’d be thrown outta the door or simply find my ass kissing the isle of the vehicle. It sucks b*lls knowing I’ll have to pay for the ride, I’ll literally be paying for poor service.

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My grudge builds further when I compose myself and realize that I had tried to hold onto the rail thingies that are in normal buses. You know, the proverbial chuma. These darn bastards removed the chumas and replaced them with very dysfunctional ones at irregular intervals. It’s as if while grasping for a straw a drowning man has time to hop around like a kid on a monkey bus. I ended up holding the roof like some useless hero saving the passengers from nothing.

I mean I have nothing against pimping up matatus- I mean they create employment that my ranting can’t but basic logic people!! I mean the person who invented the chumas might not have had the most creative mind but his invention was helpful and very much needed. So from my end here’s a bit of advice Matatu pimpers, find out why some things are installed in a vehicle before choping em up to look like incomplete monkey bus pieces. Okay? Good!

Next piece of item- the rear view mirror. I mean these are installed in every vehicle. Even the matatu I’m in ironically has one. But guess what, it ain functional. This I know how? Simple. First the driver wouldn’t have thrown me into a frantic dance since he’d have seen a passenger who hasn’t had a seat. Be patient enough to let ass come into contact with seat.

Second theres a big ass screen and speakers that block out the driver and Co. from the rest of the plagued passengers (I don’t understand why the discrimination) so basically the rear view mirror takes onto a new role as a decorative mirror which only gets used when a courageous lady seats in the front seat. If only one of those speakers would be traded in for some logic. Too bad it doesn’t work like that.

Enough about the matatus, lemme finish off by talking about my village, Rongai. I know some of you are laughing thinking I’m making fun of Rongai how everyone else does. But no, this isn’t it. I refer to it as a village simply because it looks like one. Similar to other residential /dormitory towns like Donholm. It has been raining and this though a blessing looks like a curse. The town is muddy with endless streams of water literally everywhere.

I’m simply tired, my frustration cannot be poured all out in one sitting. I am sad too that we as Kenyans will continue to pay our taxes, and pay for services that we don’t equate the money we cough out. What stings worse is that many of us are content or shrug it off and even find an excuse for it all. If you don’t believe me wait and see what happens in the next elections. I’m tired.

2 thoughts on “A STING

  1. A nice piece.It inspires to come across great works of gifted hands..Gosh! The Rongai fleet-as Vicky would put it.thumps up or should i say…i yarn for more…

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