A Random Letter To Matatu Conductors


Dear Kange/Conda/Boss/Mzeiya (or whatever else you are called),
Every day, you tolerate my nonchalant self, who’ll never give you a second thought

(unless you give me less change). I give you the respect you deserve, or not. But

each day, you and your ‘Mzyto’ at the front make sure I get to my destinations,

whether on time or not is another matter altogether.

a typical Eastleigh jav.

I give you my fare/fare10 (depending on weather), rarely complaining if your inflated

prices mean no lunch for the day. Though I would be much happier if I was missing

that lunch for a worthy cause (#Kenyans4Kenya), rather than fund the 50+ princes of

Saudi Arabia and their chauvinistic world! Your timing of Kenya’s weather conditions,

wow, hats off for that. Any chance that our matatu operators could be switched

with the quacks at Meteorological Dept. hapo Dagoretti? So, please please, when

I ask mbona fare ni 100/- instead of the usual 40/-, please don’t give me a haggard

analysis of the fuel prices (I have Larry Madondo for that). Just quit pressing down

the exploitation pedal so much!

Sorry! So sorry! Where are my manners? I forgot to ask you how you’re doing! I

hope you are as fit as a fiddle. (Archaic cliché I always wanted to use). How is the

family (yaani maboyz wa pale Jobless Corner)? Are they all OK? Have you been

attention-starved? Or is it sensually-starved? Or how else would you explain all the

groping you got going on whenever that damsel wants to board? Does the post

of ‘kange’ come with an ancillary duty of an elevator! Kenya isn’t a slut country yet.

So, on behalf of the fair ones, they can get on just fine…and I’m not advocating for

feminism in any way!

By the way, our old friend. The old one. The one for disturbing snakes and getting

bit…eeeh…MICHUKI! The good old guy. Nowadays I hear he’s on your case about

loudspeakers and screens under the pseudonym NEMA…aki hapo I’m with you.

That’s just total BS. But I will never forget him and those 2003 rules, the only sane

thing to ever happen to your industry. So the next time I thumb you down, expecting

you to have one of your ‘plush’ seats vacant just for me, don’t you dare. *pause for

effect* DON’T YOU DARE tell me to squeeze myself on a plank of wood between

seats. Or ‘sit’ on air supported by the superhuman derriere of the Mama Mboga next

to me. And as for the back-seat, please note, a primary school kid IS a passenger.

Try to remember your childhood. I bet you didn’t like being squeezed between the

luggage, breastfeeding mothers, ‘un-showered’ men etc. So why torture the young

ones? (I bet you can find something in the UN’s Rights of a Child on this!) HAKI

YAO!

And I saw you I town recently, pale kwa stage. I wanted to stop and say hi (yeah

right!) but one of your semi-drunk (Note: not tipsy!) pals kept haggling me to get into

his ma3, which btw was EMPTY! Ati ‘boss, ingia gari. Imebaki wawili tuende. Na huyo

wa pili tutamchukua kwa njia!’ First of all, I thank him for the undeserved title as I am

as yet unemployed. 2nd of all, SHENZI WEWE!

In lieu of all this, I hope utaelewa the next time I pass by, I will expect you not to

coax me into a car travelling to Nairobi just because I’m wearing a college-bag. Your

cars have destination boards. And I AM literate. Nikipotea nitauliza. Otherwise, keep

distance. I am a Meru. Just in case you didn’t know, our tempers are LEGENDARY!

*Barney Stinson voice* And our Njuri Ncheke elders seem to have liaison with

the ‘spirit world’. Are those enough threats?

So, all in all, it’s just the same old isht, just a different day. (Yes, everyone quotes

that song nowadays). Keep hustling, and I’ll keep…ummh…being transported. Najua

maisha ni ngumu, but the economy is a **** to everyone else, apart from the Saudi

princes, darn.

PS: thanks for returning the correct change when I gave you excess $$$ on those

drunken sprees of mine…though I can’t be sure coz I can’t remember how much I

gave you anyway.

PS2: just to show you how major you are there’s a Kenyan band named after your

machines. Ma3 band. Major talent. They keep me sane on Sunday between 8-9 p.m.

(tusker all-sh*t).

PS3: I hope hii kiingereza yote si ngumu.

Yours irritatedly,

Boy wa mtaa.

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7 thoughts on “A Random Letter To Matatu Conductors

  1. Pingback: Five Years Of Promise | My Clueless Thoughts

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