Tag: Travel

Today’s post will take a different turn. It is mostly a rant from my end while pointing out a few notable moments on my recent travel. I wish it was to a calming beach with pristine white sand and palm trees creating the much needed breeze but that would not have necessitated my ranting. I am still not sure what really made me uneasy, probably the lie, the discomfort, the eight hours on the road, my window not opening, the… aah I am so sure.

I was in town by 7am pouncing on the ready to go vehicles against my initial gut feeling to book a bus preferably Ena Coach because Easy Coach is as punctual as the Kenyan Presidential addresses. While reluctantly walking to Ena Coach’s offices, a lady announced that the vehicle heading to my route needed one passenger for it to depart. This was quite different. Normally, that particular Afya centre path is filled with men accousting you to use the private cars and I never see a peaceful lady achieving the same objective albeit this time a Nissan named Transluxury.

My fairly big eyes only read the first part of the word Trans and my mind filled it in as Transline. For people who use this route frequently, they know the consequences of that. Transline is quite a reputable company. It has established its brand. Perhaps what made me make this association was the fact that this particular Nissan was parked meters away from Transline offices. I get in, a bit adamant because only the backseat was available. The lady assured me it was equally comfortable as there was adequate leg space.

The social distancing regulations enforced in matatus have been of great relief to many. Mothers travelling with children have the much needed space at no extra cost and we passengers who just take personal space seriously can finally breathe. I noticed the backseat of Transluxury could accomodate four. For the avoidance of doubt, I clarified on the number of passengers who would occupy the seats given that the fare was already up by 500ksh. Of course she told me what I wanted to hear, It will just be the two of you.

Is there a particular reason that red flags are easily noticeable but we just give benefit of doubt? The tale tell signs were in full display but I needed a car that was leaving that minute. Let me give you a clearer perspective. Where this matatu was parked is right outside a petrol station but the driver took us to the Petrol station on Uhuru highway to fuel for 39 minutes. I kid you not, I watched each second go by. Of course no vehicle takes this long to fuel, our driver was busy on personal calls that he deemed more important than the passengers waiting for him. Perhaps it was courteous of him not risking our lives by driving and using his phone or maybe he even wanted to give us the peace that early morning deserved by not subjecting our eardrums to unnecessary banter.

Just before my watch struck the 40th minute, he resumed his official duty and off we went. Alas! It had only been fifteen minutes of driving when he made another stop barely out of Nairobi. This time, most passengers could not hold it. Words were thrown at the driver and he meekly defended himself saying he was instructed to pick a passenger along the way. Huh… my short lived peace had already lapsed. We waited, 15 minutes, 20 minutes, the back benchers were agitated. We demanded our fare back which was futile because the driver was not the recipient of the monies and he would not risk his job driving us back to the stage they did not have. It was a new entrant in the market, remember.

Against our will, we perservered till the lady we had been waiting for came. Only for her to request that a passenger holds her one month old baby as she looks for a decent place to help herself as she was pressed. My oh My, I was livid. Had I a few coins to my name, I would have taken my leave to find a proper vehicle with a reputation to uphold. The driver angered by the comments hauled at him on the duration of the wait decided to give us a taste of our medicine. He played obnoxiously loud deafening music perhaps to silence our voices which in turn awakened a loud crying baby next to my eardrums and did I mention the rough manner he was driving! It was hell and the first hour of my eight hour journey had just begun.

The easiest way to infuriate yourself on a perfect morning is by relieving this journey. Aaagrh.. my head and eardrum could not take it. We were occasionally swaying from side to side and we had to clutch on the next seat to avoid landing on the floor. I prayed earnestly that the traffic officers stop our vehicle but the Lord could not hear me with all that noise. On we went until our bodies adjusted and like 2020 that became our new normal, resigned.

I think the driver also had enough of it and by his own volition he lowered the volume of his untasteful music. Unfortunately, damage was already done. Transluxury was full of car sick passengers and a series of throwing up ensued. What worries me was how unbothered I was with the whole situation and the stench did not even find its way to my nostrils. The driver did not hear our plea to reduce his nerve wrecking speed and the intervals of people throwing up became my indication of time passing. Somewhere in the middle of all these, I was unmuted in the online class I was struggling to pay attention to and all I heard was blaring comments from the Lecturer asking for aid from the IT department to kick that person out of class. Well, time does does not fly in uncomfortable situations and the long 8 hours took their stride.

I get to Kisii town and unluckily, I have to board another vehicle to my destination then take a bodaboda. Masks were a rumour in the heavily populated town. Business had resumed as usual and seats meant for three were occupied by four and the fare still raised by 100ksh. The trouble in this second journey was surpassed by the first so I will not even mention. I get to my stage only to be welcomed by a thundering downpour. The impassable roads had now become muddy, unseen and no bodaboda rider wanted to risk getting stuck for the 50ksh. As I stood in a makeshift shelter, I thought about the conversation I had last week in a new Murana about cars and my response that I was not in a hurry to get one once I landed a well paying job. The thought of it had never crossed my mind but under that shelter, I would have taken a loan from any shylock if only to relieve myself of the awful experience I had gone through.

My journey back had a beautiful twist. Much as two hours were still wasted on the road to Kisii town, I was in the front seat, social distanced from the driver who was eager to share his life stories with me at 6am. He enlightened me about his job and what he considered its perks. We came to a conclusion that there is no bad job and as long as you keep at it, do it diligently, invest your money wisely, retirement could be on your terms. Furthermore, what’s there in worldly possessions, we may call them different names but at the end of the day the basic components are the same. The one living in a mansion, castle, semi permanent house all have a cooking area, a toilet, a bath area and a place to place their heads when the sun sets.

At Kisii town I headed to Ena Coach booking offices, asked for the co driver seat and patiently waited for the vehicle to fill up. I slept peacefully the moment I had my safety belt on and forgot all about my online classes.