Save the Chubby Unicorn

 

Nowadays, I mostly walk, you know, the economy. For longer distances, I use matatus. On deserted alleys – late at night, as I come from Champions Leagues’ matches (again, Manchester United breaking my heart) – ‘nduthis’ come in handy. Otherwise, me and ‘nduthis’ are not exactly friends. At least, not the reckless rides that are Nairobi’s boda-bodas. Down at the coast, they first greet you then give you all the ‘tea’ – gossip, before carefully depositing you at your destination.

Anyway, matatus and their ‘kanges’ can have you laughing. Even when you’ve been locked out of the house. Or had strong tea, ugali, avocado and macadamia for brunch – again, the economy. Examples:

“Save the chubby unicorn.” A stencilled rhino on the matatu’s body completes the imagery. The driver too needs saving. He is so heavy the matatu is leaning on one side. As Amerix would say, he needs to unfat. Maybe, then, he wouldn’t be so angry, hassling the ‘kange’ and other road users.

“Hata Ruto alisimama ndio akapata kiti.” Real cheeky. That even President William Ruto had to ‘stand’ (run for elective office) for him to get the seat he currently occupies… you get the drift.

“Kupanda ni mahali popote. Kushuka ni stage.” Just like Nairobi’s relationships. That you can board on to the relationship at any point, but at the end of the relationship are tears, with an amicable divorce – and joint statement - being one of the better incomes.

Anyway, the ‘kanges’ are comedy gold. “Ndio. Viti ziko.” This in response to an innocent passenger who has asked as to whether there are seats in the matatu. Technically, there ARE seats IN the matatu, but ALL are OCCUPIED. Could have been a successful lawyer or politician in another life if they had studied hard at school.

Or this ‘kamagera kange’ – a self-appointed assistant to the official conductor. He is giving an account of the lady that fell off the matatu. She was in a hurry and couldn’t wait for the bus to come to a full stop before getting off.

“So, si madam akatrip kwa dera…” Translation: The madam trapped on the hem of her dera. There she was, doing involuntary somersaults on the ground, Newton’s Laws of Motion at play. She was rolling towards the concrete trench, with each somersault, hitting her mouth on the hard ground. Somersault one, there goes an incisor. Somersault two, a premolar breaks free. Somersault three, a molar divorces her…

‘Thatha. Mtakunywa thoda?’ – ‘Sasa, will you be having sodas?’– she now greets them nowadays, lithping (lisping). ‘Kanges’ and their passengers, all hard-headed in this Nairobi that is ‘shamba la mawe’ – a concrete jungle where only the street smart survive.

 

(Meanwhile, buy my short stories collection at: https://nuriakenya.com/product/a-funeral-dress-for-nyasuguta-by-mark-mwangi/ )

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