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Have you ever been
caught by a lady police officer? Unawares. Driving on the right lane. Listening
to music and jokes on radio and laughing like a hyena inside to those bland
jokes by a sell by date radio presenter. That’s the time thoughts started accelerating
in my head. Even though I knew I was on the right, my heart was hammering
inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin.
I feigned
composure though.
‘Unaenda na
route gani?’ she asked. I don’t remember receiving any greetings from her.
“Langa’ta Road,” I replied.
“Nifikishe Bunyala
Road.”
“Ingia twende.” I said then went
mum.
She pulled the
manual lock because I had rolled down the window due to the sweltering heat and
entered inside. She looked motherly, removed her reflective jacket and I
noticed the sillage. It was floral and nuanced of a finer approach. After
sitting, we had a plausible awkward moment. I remembered I had discussed with
someone that cops like freebies. Lifts are their weakness. This was the second
time I was carrying one. The first was a young policeman who stopped me and as
opposed to this lady, we had a lengthy chat. Usually, they are on their way to
attend to duty.
Nairobi traffic
jam. It was a gridlock on that day. Every car had turned off its engine, you
could see matatu conductors wandering on the highway looking up and down for
clues. My panya route turned out to be the longest route. I had
used Kenyatta Avenue, then snaked effortlessly on Processional way to Haile
Selassie from Uhuru Highway. I caught up with her just after switching lanes
from Processional Way. Then I saw the cars I had left in the jam on Uhuru
Highway getting preference over us. Ouch! Reminds me that I always have to
exercise patience. However, this lack of patience had resulted in me giving a
lift to a lady police. Is this not a worthy exercise?
I normally listen
to Capital FM while alone. A habit I developed in campus because we thought it
was cool. So the practice has stuck. The sassy diva was on air. Apparently,
Koffi Olomide, ‘Mukulu Kulu’ is coming to town, tickets go for 2K. I was made
to understand he has over 35 names. Pole Musa. I cannot afford to attend
this concert. My uncles love such stuff, Rhumba. They hyped how they would
attend Fally’s concert. Did they attend?
Sitting inside a
car with a police is uncomfortable. Especially with the sweltering heat of
Nairobi and am dark-skinned. That makes me look darker than usual. Compounded
with sweat, I look scary. Just wondering how she resorted to ask me for a lift.
Is it because I had not tinted the front windows? Do I look philanthropic? Or
is it that I am homely and kind? Food for thought.
Inside I started
being bombarded by many questions. How do I start a conversation? Why does she
not take the initiative? She is a cop for Christ sake and should be able to
take initiative. The insurgent cold almost resurfaced. Most guys I know are
currently battling a cold. ‘Mapua karibu itoke makamasi.’ I had to look up and sniffle. To avoid eye
contact, I decided to look outside. Imagining.
This were the
imaginations. Why is that guy in a bespoke suit walking from work? Does he even
know that I have no money on me yet am driving? Or did he pack in a shady place
where he does not have to fork out parking fees? We surely needed to switch
positions if he had no car. He is burly and am kind of skinny, I think this is
a reversed role. Then I notice a dude who has a big derriere. They go like, ‘ashu
mia, ashu mia’. This sounds gross, right. But he should have lent that lady
in front of him with some. She looked like someone denied those assets which
are hideous on men.
A voluptuous lady
with yellow thighs passed by the kerb. She had a slit on her skirt that almost
kissed the ass. And she had a fine ass. I wish I could go tell her ‘Kizuri
chajiuza, Kibaya chajitembeza’. She probably caused men to have lascivious
thoughts as she walked the aisles of the offices.
As a driver, you
only imagine. Imagine a lot of things. You are also imagining what the cop is
imagining. Let me not pen down those dirty thoughts. But cops know so many
secrets. This one was a traffic police. She was well build, round faced and had
a mellow voice. A phone call did break the virginity of silence.
‘Hallo.’
‘Sitafika
mapema leo.’
‘Unataka
nikulete nini?’
‘Sirudi town
lakini.’
I could not hear
what the other person what saying. But it did sound like a young’un. That was
just an excerpt of the short conversation they had. I was not keen enough
because I was driving. You know men cannot multitask.
She also talked
with someone who sounded like her boss. The jam was on again. She kept
referring to him as ‘Sir’. Her senior. Sign of respect, like we used to call
all our male teachers ‘Sir’, in primary school. And that mentality has also
stuck in me.
After the
conversation, the jam started moving. I remember her telling him that she was
taking to her what he had required of her. Then I realized that indeed, cops
have sway on the Nairobi jam.
We had been in the
jam for more than thirty minutes. But after the conversation was over, we
started moving.
She said something
but I still could not respond. I have some kind of introversive demeanor with
strangers. Then there was news that there was a proposal to increase the age of
judges to 74 from 70. She gave the example of Kubana. That they were going to
age while in office. But judges are like wine. I corrected her that it was
Kalpana Rawal, the deputy CJ.
We talked about
how judges like privileges, and she talked about immunity and some other
benefits I have forgotten.
I wanted to ask
her how comes guys in big cars with normal number plates were overlapping and
overtaking using the wrong lane while we were in the jam. Why did they let them
do so? Were such guys more special than us in small cars that with three
litres, you can drive to Nakuru and back? Could we also do that now that she
was going to build the nation? She never looked like someone in a hurry.
On reaching
Bunyala road, I almost hit a car by the side. ‘Umeingia vibaya,’ she
told me.
One of the side
mirrors is past its useful value. It serves no purpose other than it just being
there. A grease monkey had told me it retails at 4K. I cannot afford that.
She did alight on
the round-a-bout as I sped off.
I remember seeing
a guy in a vitz looking at me. Maybe, he thought I was caught and the fact that
the laws do not allow police inside commoner’s cars, it looked odd. But at such
times, you need to kill your conscience. If you can kill your conscience and
live your life, you will achieve great feats, someone told me.
PS: Someone pulled
the charger from my pc while doing the original version of this post. It was
over 800 words. I hate having a laptop in form of a desktop. That means I
should buy a battery as soon as possible. That was more than two hours of time
lost. I now wish all my content would be web linked so that nothing is ever
lost.
Hasta La Vista
Baby.
[Picture Source:
Pixabay.com]
