A bright morning, return to thee gratitude. Before my pen spits a Tale, I have a duty…
Why not pen a Tale everyday?
This is my schedule;
(POLITICAL EYE) Thurs and Fri.
(RELIGION AT GLANCE) Sat and Sun.
Now you know.
Your phone rings very early. Its Dad calling,
“Hello Sam, ukuje na ile document town, kitu saa saba hivi.”
It’s unexpected but you have to respond,
He hangs up as you press the lock button sending the screen black.
A walk from Nyayo 6, to the main gate, it’s quite a journey. An approximately 20 minutes walk coupled up with haste via Old admin, the monument and finally the last stretch to the gate.
“Beba, beba… Bebaaaaaa, Ruiru ndani 20 By-pass kumi…. Viuuuuuu…. ”
Even before you get to the Superhighway, chants of the save will allude the air and an harmonious music will resound.
Suddenly, one of the very many touts will cling on your white shirt and pull you in a rather mechanical way, with a pinch held on your skin momentarily pleading with you,
“Ya mbele mzae, Thika…”
You try to release the grip but in vain. Profusely, you’ll shout,
“Siendi Thika, niachilie…Shenzi sana…”
Thanks be to God, he’ll finally let you go as he rushes to instil pain to yet another guy.
Before climbing the footbridge, akina Njoroge and Muchiri on the motorcycles will annoy with their requests,
“Bro, ni finje tu KM…”
But you’ll ignore.
Finally you’ll walk up the staircase to the other side of the road.
Before even stepping down, five of the other touts will pounce on you with an archaic anxiety, each pulling you to his direction: a moment you feel kinda dizzy but you have to fall prey of the same, leaving your white shirt stained maroon. They’ll spend at least 2 minutes arguing before letting the noisiest have you for a ride.
He’ll lead you to his vehicle, which of cause is the last with you as the first passenger. You’ll try to vacate away but in vain as he’ll be watching over you.
Hahaha, unlucky you…
After another 30 minutes wait for the passengers to empty the spaces, you’ll have had the worst experience with touts ever.
Be serious when you get there and let your rough speech be the tool.
“A Silent Noise.”
We pen as we receive it…