IT IS DONE

I was born in the suburbs of Kisii town in the early 2000s. This was an era when everything urban(ish) was a phenomenon. It was the era when clothes were classified; za nyumbani na za kanisa or safari. 'Za nyumbani' were mostly the ruggish ones, faded out and with no classic looks. The latter however were most obviously the brandy ones your dad or mum occasionally got you when they traveled to Mombasa for some office business. She never let you put them on during the weekdays. She doesn't want you to soil them. She'd let you put them on during family photoshoots on Christmas though. Crazy life that was.

Traveling was yet another rare occurrence. Okay, not the usual travel. The kind I was accustomed to in the days was the local commute from home to the market in the evenings to fetch some groceries. I'm not talking about that. Sometimes my dad had to travel to the capital for teacher business. Old man was ever busy in the days. In his heydays, he still is anyway. Traveling to the capital was quite an event. A week before the journey he would ask us to do his laundry, maybe he'd book an Easy Coach bus in advance. Traveling had it's juice. He'd come back home few days later loaded with lots of goodies; sometimes a sack of mangoes or maybe fashion shoes or clothes. Man, those were the days. Taking pictures outside parliament premises or at KICC was not even debatable. I mean, what good would it have been going to the capital and having nothing to show for it? What will you brag to your kids about? I mean...

So this last Sunday I was traveling to the capital. I was going to the Sportsview Hotel Kasarani from where I'm writing this story. Equity had not forgotten about me after all. Maybe someone within the ranks read my previous post and decided that "No, we're not gonna let down this guy from Kisii." And as such, some guy called Kevin Lubembe sent me an invitation email to the ELP induction at Kasarani. At least he salvaged me from the boredom basket.

No hype. No anxiety. The Sunday I'm traveling I wake up like any other day. My dad says he has to personally ensure I get there. Being the family scion has its issues, trust me. He can't drive to the capital though. The old man is too frail for all the trouble. Or maybe he's too paranoid to cruise into the capital full of motors. He doesn't want nganya drivers hooting all over reminding him to keep the pace; that he's not in the suburbs of Kisii no more. He's not going to sign up for all that. Hitherto, we take a shuttle. The Guardian.

It's a fucking long way to Nairobi. I listen to my full playlist of 250+ songs like twice before we get there. On the way, I keep looking out through the panes. There's no better way to pass time during travels like this. You'll see the trees glide fast past you as if they're chasing the wind and dust. You'll see some crazy children dancing naked on the roadsides. Not that they lack clothes or their parents are too poor to clothe them as humans should be. No. That's what they live for. That's how they live their lives. That's the fun they find in life. A life of not caring what other folks think. A life that's fun-filled. A life they define themselves. Not allowing other mongrels chart a way for them.

Somewhere along the way still, some monkeys are playing with yellow ripe bananas. Some trample, some eat yet some others just look at them like some alien-like stuff they've never seen. I'm mad at them. How do they not know the value of the bananas they're playing with!!! My fellow tribesmen in the shuttle grumble as well. They don't appreciate the creature's mannerisms. A senile man at the front literally shouts at them.
   "Tiga Obochinga!"
     (Wacha ujinga)

Six hours on the road and we're in the capital. We take a cab to Sportsview. The chauffeur is a kikuyu young man. My old man sits at the front. The two men exchange pleasantries. Traffic is seamless this day. The young man smiles. He says President Kibaki did Kenya the beat of service while in office with regards to the transport infrastructure. A conversation sparks there. The men delve much into economics and governance. They criticize presidents for failing to live up to their tasks. I care less. I grew out of the blind fanaticism long ago.

Minutes later, we're at Sportsview hotel Kasarani. My dad mpesa's me some money and leaves. We don't say bye. "Baadaye" suffices. Some light skin shawty ushers me in. I take five seconds to reply to the 'hi' she began with. Girls like her are not found in Kisii. She's courteous; very welcoming. Later on, she becomes my chaperone. I hit on her. But that will be the end of it. She tells me she's flying abroad to Smith's College in the USA for her undergraduate medicine degree. Her name's Janester Kerubo. She hails from Kisii. One of the few. Good things are so short-lived. Damnit!

A week into the conference and I'm bored again. Weird right? Even still, I miss home. I miss playing with my small sister Shanelle. I miss cuddling her at night as she sleeps with a gleam on her face. I miss sleeping ten hours. I miss watching movies late into the night. The end is luminous though. It's worthwhile.

©oiraqaleb esq.