PARKLANDS

The number of Range Rover Evoque on this streets are far astounding. Mark you they are all brand new. Complemented by other Bavarian SUVs, and sports cars, you reaaly know you are not somehow in Kenya. These radically different types of machines owned mostly by Indians make you feel like there is something you are not doing right. Either you are hustling on the wrong job, or you are tied down to a form of employment which means you can never own such a machine because its fuel consumption on a monthly basis if driven daily is two to three times the net you take home. To make matters worse, it is usually Indian ladies or youthful dudes who are usually behind the wheels. The envy is real, add jealousy that they can make it in our country while we are busy working for them speaks volume. Let me check on the two because it may result into resentment. And apparently resentment gnaws away at us and can be a springboard to anger, hatred and even depression.

Albeit the machine (Range Rover Evoque) has never wowed me in terms of aesthetic values, it has uniquely designed sleek features and lightweight capability not forgetting that it is highly streamlined which makes it perfect for urban driving and a real beast on the road. Well, the guzzler is a trendy fit and breaks the monotony of Japanese littered roads that are synonymous with us Kenyans. Some say a machine whether cozy or not is for taking you from point A to B. Well they are idiosyncratic in my school of thought. But your arrival in such a contraption speaks boisterously of who you are regardless of whether you have hired it or own it to the mundane plebeian. If it evokes such desirability and oomph on yours truly, then you can be pretty sure that it has unmatched rivalry on our roads. As a breather, let me say that the Range Rover Evoque combines head-turning looks with awesome attributes, thanks to its blend of style, performance, economy and off-road ability. I had to emphasize the words in bold. Period.

Imbroglio. There is this man who KTN saw it best to say that he was hurling massive English (ENGLUO) and I was pretty much fascinated by his use of ubiquitous words which may well be vocabulary to some. Hitherto it had not occurred to me that he was that well versed until in his heavy jeng accent, he talked about some audit stuff being in imbroglio. However, his pronunciation was way out of how it should be said if in any way his insinuation was tied to this prodigious word that I knew but had to check with my lexicon on its intended literal connotation.

That is the state I was in on Monday when I was to take a car to Highridge where my new workstation is situated. Boy, it is ridiculous to even think of intimating the story. Like a rookie, I went to board vehicles headed to Parklands, totally different from those that are supposed to take you to Highridge. Thankfully, I made it to town early enough to mess up a little bit because in Swahili they say, “Kupotea njia, ndiyo kujua njia.” At this point there is so much temptation to switch to Swahili, however, that will be tantamount to calamitous because, ideally, there are words in Swahili so difficult to translate from English never forgetting that the flow of the prose will be subject to a lot of hesitation and Googling to find the right phrase using Google translator. And apparently, there are so many words in English that need a native Swahili name. Like I was once listening to a conversation and Lady Jay Dee was told to translate the word ‘tennis’ to Swahili. She said ‘tenisi’ ambivalently thinking there is a better word having done what is known as ‘kutohoa’ in Swahili. I was good in Swahili way back in high school. Now the remnants are still lurking somewhere though the real knowledge has gone to the dogs. I recall with nostalgia the makosa ya hijahi and ngeli. If the two still exist.

Ok, back to the main point. There are some conductors whose main motivation is usually the money and not the interest of the passenger they are to aid. As a person, you need to have some little bit of sense in you so as to be kosher. When you peg things on money at the expense of helping a friend in need, you might even loose the slightest opportunity of growth you would have been bestowed because it is better the hand that giveth than the hand than receiveth.

As a person who never knew where I was going to, I did ask him if he was going to show me the place I was heading to so that I could alight if indeed that was the route I was supposed to use. Unfortunately, he showed me the wrong place having entered his car. So upon alighting I had to ask the sentries the focal point of where I was to report to work. But at first, I went to a building that looked almost the same like the one that I was supposed to be reporting to having seen the images on Google. And speaking of Google, I was never even bothered to know where the place I was going to was situated, never mind that I had free internet in the house and a whole weekend to check on the google maps and ensure I got the exact destination on my fingertips.

Which reminds me, I remember getting lost on my way to search for Oshwal last year (Let’s just say, am not cognizant of this suburbs). That I have ended up in Strathmore is a story that has a close relation with Oshwal. My destination was supposed to be Highridge and the mat left me at a point where I was as green as the brown “Kidero” grass. Last year, it took me more than an hour to trace Oshwal College. Luckily, with the help of some very cordial sentries, I did find the institution which did not ooze the kind of flamboyance in terms of façade as I had thought and expected. It was too plain and it never seeking attention made the probable look kind of too much jejune. But what made me want to go to the institution was the beautiful girls who spoke splendid English using their noses and their light skin complexion. I love seeing beautiful girls. Beauty makes life worth living. Otherwise, if there was no beauty, what else would we be look for in life? Maybe we would have been reluctant to even work hard for better our prospects in life.

Away from last year reminisces. The sentry at Oshwal Primary was the most helpful. His accent sounded like that of a ‘murume’ and I did wonder how he ended up in such a pitiable situation because I rarely see people of this ethnicity plying their trade as watchmen. Had rather they sell Mogoka or Mira in the filthy streets of downtown Nairobi. He did give me the right direction of how I had to walk.

On reaching the point where I was to board a mat for Nakumatt Highridge Supermarket, the Thomas in me decided to hesitate in order to ask someone who maybe had the knowledge of where I was headed to. At that point, I felt like taking a ‘nduthi’ so that I could arrive at the job in time. But something told me not to be in a hurry. I asked someone who looked like he had the geographical coordinates of the area at the palm of his hand. However, he was the kind who take so many things for granted and was even more confused than I was. I thought the place I was headed to was still far because I was next to the administration offices (Later I knew it was Mwisho, Kwa Chief)

At that point, I decided to go ask a certain conductor to take me to my intended destination. Luckily, she was helpful. Ever realized that the number of ladies plying their trade as mat and bus conductors is biased towards Saps. The amount I was to be charged was a paltry Ksh. 10. I realized that sometimes, patience pays. If you hurry you might end up eating the entrails instead of the lean and tender parts of meat. Like I would have probably paid Ksh. 100 for a motorbike ride instead of saving Ksh.90.

The week also saw me search for a passport which I had started looking for the previous week. You see, I did not have a birth certificate which is a prerequisite for having passport. Luckily, I had the copy of my birth certificate. Again being broke and not intending to borrow money because am working, Mshwari came in handy. They are currently lending me a 5 digit figure which is not bad considering I am sometimes in a fix and need to use the service to solve one or three problems.

My old man being in town, he did aid robustly in the quest for a passport. As the first person in my nuclear family to own one, he was really proud. Never mind that it is only for exam registration which I found out later even though I had vague memories that I needed a passport.

In order to get the birth certificate faster, we called one of my aunts who works with the immigration department. There is always a queue of people looking for passports. I usually bypassed them because I knew people. In Kenya, if you act courageous and confident in what you are doing, not even the marauding and haughty Administration Police can bar you from making entry in the busy department while others are queuing.

My birth certificate was prepared in less than two hours on a Friday evening. But because I couldn’t be able to pick it, it was agreed that the person making it would deliver it to one Ben who worked at the immigration and was to be my acquaintance in the search for a passport at Nyayo. All this while, I was thinking of how I was wasting time not being in the job place. I was AWOL.

The person who was supposed to be receiving the certificate got too drunk to report to work on Monday. Civil servants sometimes do have a rosy time at the workforce, right? For the birth certificate, I forked out Sh. 1500. The other charges for the person preparing the passport at Nyayo house were settled by my old man because he is still more chummed than me.

To make matters worse, the invoice I had printed was not the one required. However, because I was being served by a person who knew there was kitu kidogo, he did not mind printing the required invoice which I found very relieving because if I had used the right mechanism instead of going backdoor, I would have probably spent ages looking for the passport owing to the shortfall that I was having.

So it took me like thirty minutes to have all the documentation certified factoring in the time spent for waiting for the officer who was to check the documents. Now I am only waiting for a foreign country to let me let me travel to it because am well armed.

Oh, and our graphic designer got fired. Just like that because of some nonsensical reason. We used to laugh together, and narrate stories but one story I intimated about a deaf prostitute made her laugh to tears. Sadly I was added some roles which I was not feeling like taking, of graphic design. I am still pondering on how to make graphics that stand out even though I am not highly skilled in this field (self taught). There is a lot of nitty gritty in designing. Color combination, using the right font, alignment of objects, and knowledge of how to use all the tools and coming up with an image that will capture the attention of the person you picture is intended is not an easy job. You really need to think in 3D using 4G now that our boss said that consulting is like eating into the time of another employee and he needs the results faster.

As our human resource continues to look for an employee who will fit the bill, I am still going to act on the role in the meantime though my work has really been compromized. Luckily, I have honed my designing skills and I can well say I am doing just fine.

Yes, I discovered a new eating spot in Highridge. It is made of iron sheets but much smaller than the Mama Mswahili’s place. Since it is the only place serving us. It sometimes get so full we have to wait outside in order to let those who are in to finish so that we can partake of our chow. The meal is not as delicious as Mama Mswahili’s. But it is a little bit cheaper. For some reason, I may not have the money to eat there daily but sooner, things will look up and I will move to something better because there are some Swahili dishes being made by a certain lady and even though it is actually the figure I spend on a day, I will be tempted to eat it.

However there is one incident that made me love our mat drivers. There was this traffic cop who wanted him to halt by the curb for some nonsensical reason.  But the bugger was quite sly because he did pretend to be stopping but accelerated entering into the nearby T-junction as we sped off. We kept on looking at the back but the guy knew panya routes and left us at a place you walk five minutes to work. Ideally, I usually take a minute for the distance.

Oh, and I am going to sometimes be boarding the Strathmore bus to school in order to save on fare. Who knows, I might just get a big break when the year blossoms. When I sometimes see my classmates in 4*4 and am doing route eleven to catch a mat, I feel that I am more challenged than ever before to try and be in the right class. I will ask for the tricks of getting there. But in the meantime, I will accept the status quo even though there is this chic who told me she find old moneyed men who reside in suburbs and drive fuel guzzlers with several businesses as the equal of who to marry her. It made my heart sink in destitution and I am on a legit mission to make real big money that my woman cannot spend. If I am not going to make it in the meantime, I will look for one lady who wants to grow with me steadily. Money is more attracted to people as they age. Ama sivyo?

HASTA LA VISTA BABY

[Picture Source: Google Images]

Read More

FUTURE CAR: MASERATI

So my future car is a Maserati. Damn, this car is ill. Its aesthetic values, the curve, its sleek and smooth, has a an old school feel and am just week.

Ever since I played the sharefun stuff on facebook, I have been having this premonition that the prediction may just come out true. I will marry after 30, have two kids and die probably at 80. Ten years past the normal bible age limit is enough for a wild hog like me.

[to be continued]

Read More

NAIROBIAN MATATUS; MY PERSPECTIVE

'Mat za Diaspora ni mwenda.' Placing my hand on my mouth as if blowing something between my clenched fists.

When one of my colleagues in Kabete told me that matatus from Rongai are the illest in Nairobi in terms of being aligned to a given Sacco, I thought that was a half-truth and too farfetched. Never mind that I sometimes used the route they plied but never ended up in Diaspora. That was sometimes last year and man, am slowly owning up. This nganyas are the bomb, they ooze a flair of trepidation, have staggered rims, extensions in the front and back, make so much noise to get way, play riddimz and are custom named and designed so that they charge you an extra dime for using them to commute to and fro town. Zi huitwa mat za ma-wire or is it just wire. I am not sure.

That aside, I have devised a plan of ensuring I use very little dough on fare to and from town because mats can be expensive. I ensure I am at the bus stage before 0600 hrs because if I make a mistake of arriving two minutes later, I will pay sh.20 or sometimes thirty extra of the normal amount I pay. The economic times are harsh for me though (Kawaida yetu kuongea vile maisha ni ngumu kama waKenya). Again, I ensure I ask the conductor the amount before boarding because I might just be having a fixed figure in my pocket and if he charges anything extra, he may cause a deficit on my budget and I may be forced to ask for alms which I hate doing sometimes later on.

Again I never leave work till I have done overtime. It is practical. If I leave work before 2000 hrs, I might be forced to pay the extra amount which I am obviously usually forced to pay when it rains. And that means the next day I have to either take tea served at the work place while whistling (kunywa chai bila kakitu) or take goods on credit. Oh kuwa na kakitu means you are liquid in other Sheng parlance. My liquidity is not worth talking about. But as long as I can be able to do one two three, I am content.

Noooo, I am just looking for better prospects. That which will give me comfort. However, I am learning. As a writer cum zetetist, I know the essence of just doing things to have a better perspective. It is crucial to broaden one’s scope of ken because instinctively, there will be a point in time when it will come in handy and you may smile all the way to the bank like a dredger having dug to his first plentiful in terms of the goldmine after patience and perseverance in the adit for long.

Now to the main issue at hand, Matatus. Ever since my car broke and it is now lying in a yard rotting because I am not able to repair it after the engine knocked, I am a mathree user and I love it. (About the car, it is one of those which my oldman had before he retired and since he had a couple, he saw it fit to lend me one to use but before I knew it, it was grounded then I realized there is owning a car and then there is maintaining it).

I lost my first smartphone while struggling to enter a matatu after some niceties in westy by my buddies back then when we were in campus (I had a cool phone then). That reminds me of those rogue and heavily built fellows who enter matatus in trio or tetra and position themselves next to gullible men and women whose innocence sometimes leads them to not only lose their smartphones, but also other valuables they own.

If careful, you can notice as phones or bags are exchanging hands and most of the times, these people are usually working in cohorts with the mat conductors because the vehicle will strategically stop to pick them up in designated haulage areas where they are known to like boarding the mat. What is worse is that they sometimes are armed with pistols and can execute their crimes when being watched in broad daylight because just like any other person, they consider themselves as part of hard working Kenyans who are also out to make a living. Only that theirs is an illegal act. And not many speak for lack of enough evidence or fear.

I have never seen a matatu that has ‘scratched’ a police car or gotten into collision with a patrol car. Considering the way the traffic police like to openly pull aside a mat and they enter the vehicle, never mind that the traffic boss declared it illegal for a cop to enter any vehicle. But Kenyan marshals never issue tickets to traffic offenders. Because they also have to eat, and matatus are their medium of conduit, they ensure all passengers alight before they can start their obviously known extortion quest. Mid-month is the worst, when guys are broke. Hope that someday in the future, lady lack will smile on me and I will witness a scene of where a mat has got into slight collision with a prowl car.

There are those times when you are in the mat and a hot mama comes and sits next to you. What is worse is when she has to breastfeed her tot and you are sitting beside her in these mats having two seats. Mental illusions means that she will stir the hornet’s nest but since you are javving, you need to keep up appearances by feigning ignorance, even though you may wish to be the tot. Most times, you look away but once in a while you steal glances at her doing her thing just to confirm that you are a sane chap. Sitting next to a hot lady has its intricacies, you are suspicious most of the time. You either want to start a conversation but aren’t sure where to begin. You need to be composed. Most of these ladies have huge smartphones which they pop out immediately they sit and Facebook or whatsapp is their idea of catching up. Or they play Candy Crush.

However, a person of my ilk rarely knows how to chat strangers, you start a conversation and I will nod my head or just smile because it’s tricky talking to someone in a mat. Rarely do I take advantage when a hot chic seats next to me. That I have seen many who I have not asked for their cell phone numbers is not in denial. Which reminds me of my former campus mate who wanted to chat up a certain lady he was seated next to in a mat, next to the cockpit. Being a witty chap, he dropped his phone on the floor of the car stealthily and asked the lady to call him since he had misplaced his phone. And that is how he started a chat and easily got a number. I presumed the lady was hot. I doubt if I have the guts to pull this scenario. Maybe, I am not a ladies man. However, never mistake my timidity or lack of aggression. For in Swahili they say, “Simba mwenda pole,ndiye mla nyama.” Anyway, chatting with a stranger can be difficult, unless you share the same objective or mission. A passenger is not one of the two.

So there was this hot mama who came and sat next to me on my way to work. She had this see through tights that exposed her blemish free yellow yellow things which forced me to stare at nothing but the thighs. He wide hips were also curvy and I felt like they were piercing me so much so I was already experiencing carnal illusions. Her sexy busty cleavage was exposed to reveal two firm, round, taut and voluptuous twins which is usually rare in most Kenyan ladies. Her cologne was not only an aphrodisiac you immediately wanted to engage her in public disgrace in the devil’s dance but also it did complement her flawless skin.

Since it was in the morning and we were listening to Matatu FM, I could tell she was also feeling the vibe of Kenya’s women rep, Maina Kageni, because of his incessant opine when they engage the morning conversation. At some point, she decided to play Asphalt. And she was driving it in such a manner that she had to occasionally place her elbow on my uncharacteristically flat chest. That meant she also adjusted her body in a suggestive manner but the macho in me prevented my instincts from taking advantage or reprimanding her to behave. Thoughts of her dressing was enough to tell me she was either in a relationship that was not satisfactory of either she was single. That she was driving and not playing the mundane Candy Crush most ladies love made me wanna take her number. Haisulu sikuchukua. Pole Musa.

God knows how I survived the rippling effects of both being held hostage and at the same time overpowered by the temptations of the flesh. I would have incoherently spoken to her had she started a conversation at the prime. Luckily, I remained sane even though my heart was throbbing and I almost developed goose bumps because she was too fly I almost became timid or chicken out. Leave alone her seductive thick legs giving me parochial thoughts, he angelic face was dazzling and worth a future rendezvous. Man, I survived the ordeal.

Then there is this socialite whose pictures are usually awash on the internet (she is yet to break the internet and go mainstream with her whory job). Maybe, she should go nude by telling her closest male pal leak the nudes then come out guns blazing or try acting a sex tape like the infamous Kim Kardashian with a prominent chap. That way, she will have many followers on Facebook because the carnal desires of men rage sometimes even though they know that it is a whore they are dealing with. Kind of interesting why a man prefers a call girl at the expense of many virgins who want someone to break them. Never mind that men forget the faux pas when their brains sink down south.

The socialite was tall (above six foot), dark complexioned and very curvy although she was not well endowed on the derriere because her hips that were well defined and overshadowed what is not seen. I usually noticed her coming from exercises because of the way she was draped while javving on my way to work a number of occasions. She was with a small man in tow, maybe a gym instructor preparing her for something big. Say wedding.

Being a very tall chic and residing in this middle class estate, she was easily visible and standing out. She had long and thick legs, a wry smile, small bust and luscious lips. A perfect size 8 that sometimes got me thinking. In fact, she was a walking advert of what she auctions or sells to the next available bidder if her rapid sending of lascivious pictures to market herself on our very own Ghafla! platform is anything to go by.

 
To be continued. [The rest coming is pine]

Read More

ALTO: Every Broke Ass Man's Fetish

It is the little things in life that matter. An Alto is one of those little things. Yes its matters to own an Alto. How did those mandarins who are given the mandate to design a car come up with an Alto? Suzuki (made Suzuki a brand name in "79) for once scored so low even though my main drive is not intended for the company as they just make for consumption by the ever car hungry men who will want to be seen arriving on 'fours.' In Luo they say 'Olo nono.'

The first time I heard that there is a car called Alto, I thought it was probably a Japanese machine from the ubiquitous Toyota or maybe the synonymous Nissan. I had not thought of an Alto from Suzuki. Who drives these Suzuki's though.

Alto is a bland, thin, poverty stricken and a malnourished car that can be mistaken for a gaunt figure struggling for notice on the road. Other than the fact that an Alto is cheap, the car is morbidly debilitating. Even a Mr. Bean car has finesse and chutzpah when on the road. It (Alto) reeks of subtle malevolence and sap cheekiness.

Anyone who plunders his shekels on the moty is nothing but a stingy hell of a man who does not care that he is hurting his ego and that of those he is socializing and associating with. What with the car having no status symbol, making you look like a hell of a first time car owner, and it making you look cheap and a famished being seeking to be seen in a contraption.

Ideally, nothing is wrong with owning this car. You are however a hell of a looser who will be entitled to nothing but chide. A butt of jokes you will become whether you like it or not. Never tell guys you are going to buy an Alto (even Yolz damsels will never respect you). Or never show friends that you are shipping in an Alto. Do it as covertly as possible. Even when you shipping it into the country, just tell friends to wait for a surprise as you will no longer be boarding mats or using route 11. The one (photo above) I decided to use is more stylish and looks like a worthy contrivance to put on road.

Indeed if you planning to buy this car, you need to be a bachelor (below 25 if you can afford it). If you are a family man, an Alto is a machine that even cause your child stress each time you go pick him with that car from school. Unless you take your child to a school where parents have no cars. Either way, other children even if their parents don't have cars will bully and psychologically affect your progeny because of the diminutive shape of an Alto. Why? An uncle of mine wanted to buy a probox (they called it a toolbox) and his boys out-rightly told him not do buy the go damn thing. Methinks a probox in comparison to Alto does better (My revulsion for a Probox is inimical). Such is the pride children have. In fact, the people who influence parents a lot to buy items are their children.

As a person who likes speed, Alto is a car that can never sate my enthusiasm in a car. I rank some of the Altos in the same league as Bajaj (sic). Why? The speedometer limit reads 140 kph . Unless you are over 50 and fear speed since you want to reach the age of 70, an Alto, ah ah. Even a fifty year old who buys this car is just a joker or a very broke ass buda. When you are on the road, you need to press the gas pedal and feel like the car is moving. Again if everyone is overtaking you, it means you are just inferior (worse of all a Vitz).  MWK are the only people who don't mind mediocrity since they accept what they are bought. Dude, unless you are saving for something better or you aim at disposing this thing to a MWK, as a macho man, I beseech you to dispose it off like yesterday.

This car cannot do off-road effectively in as much as it cheap and economical in fuel consumption. Its resale value is unknown as very few chaps want to buy it unless you are thinking of making it a taxi after purchase. I mind my pride and I would be indignant if a person gave me this thing of a car to test drive. This car is arguably meant for Europe and Asia where the roads are well carpeted and maintained and guys are heavily taxed in order to ensure their environments are clean.

Don't get me wrong though, am a car fanatic and when I saw an Alto, I felt cheated because I was thinking of something better. But as much as I have exposed my naivety and ire, I still stand by my words on this obnoxious thing that one can spend his money on because it consumes less on petrol. I am of the opine that, when you entertain mediocrity and measliness, this tenets will follow you in your life.

SITUONANE.

[Photo Source: Google Images]

Read More

LandWind X7: A Land Rover Evoque COUNTERFEIT Retailing at £14000

LandWind X7

The Chinese have done it once again. Yes they have just cloned the Land Rover Evoque and christened it ‘Land Wind’released today in Guangzhou Motor Show. That hurts especially to an auto fanatic and a Land rover enthusiast like me.

Tears are almost falling down my ruddy cheeks in torrents like the El Niño. It hurts  and pains.  I am sad, bored and anguished. Someone give me a face towel. I need it ASAP, PLEASE. I am begging. This has gone too far, far farawayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy………………..

Enough of unceasational mourning that has left my voice hoarse and husky. I must admit I am a minion of Bavarian, Union Jack and Uncle Sam craftily made contraptions that not only ooze class but also create an intimidating posture on our Japanese auto congested highways. 

The LandWind X7 bears a striking resemblance to the Range Rover Evoque, a locally produced version of which was also unveiled at the Guangzhou motor show motor show.

Trust the Chinese to engage in copyright infringement callously at the behest of those who struggle to create formidable brands that are world synonymous and picturesque. The Chinese will clone anything. I bet one uncanny bugger good in mandarin will soon clown an airline carrier like the successful Lufthansa planes in something like Luphthanza and get away with in China.

Land Rover CEO Dr Ralf Speth said LandWind’s X7 SUV qualifies as an Intellectual Property theft and will approach Chinese officials about the matter at the Guangzhou Auto Show.

“The fact that this kind of copying is ongoing in China is very disappointing. The simple principle is that it is not something that should happen; the Intellectual Property is owned by Jaguar Land Rover and if you break that IP then you are in breach of international regulations that apply around the world,” Speth told Autocar magazine.

The executive said Land Rover has invested heavily in China with its joint venture partner, Chinese manufacturer, Chery and what Land Wind has done with the X7 damages its business in China.

While the Evoque is priced from around £40,000, the LandWind X7 will go on sale later this month for just £14,000.

The X7 is powered by a 188bhp 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder engine with 184lb ft of torque. It is offered with a choice of either a six-speed manual or eight-speed automatic gearbox.

LandWind is a standalone Chinese car maker created as a joint venture between respected Chinese car makers Changan Auto and Jiangling Motors Corporation.

 I am enormously pissed off. Period.

Read More

Know your Mechanic

Every motorist knows the essence of having a capable and skillful mechanic who plies his trade with the legerdemain of a Dexter. Mechanics are like personal doctors. They know your car inside out and can detect minor faults that most untrained eyes cannot. As such mechanics are very valuable individuals who many at times we fail to revere due to the fact that they have to dirty their hands and overalls to earn their eke.

Everyday cars develop faults and when not rectified early, most of them develop into disasters that may stall the vehicle altogether. While it may be delightful owning a car, it is very stressful when a car develops mechanical faults. Diagnosis may be apt but repair may be not lead to the desired results. Many at times the quack mechanics we seek technical advice from fail to precisely deal with the problem at hand and in turn one ends up with a much worse case scenario.

A car is not a cash cow; instead it is a money guzzling asset that has a depreciating return whose only source of comfort is the pride one gets in having it. Having a car however is no longer a luxury but a necessity that one cannot do without if one has owned one and saw the benefits.

After purchasing a car, a grease monkey comes in handy. Alas most people usually can’t afford the services of professional mechanics and hence resort to the cheap mediocre mechanics who many at times don’t have diagnostic equipment that can aid in detecting faults in the systems of their cars since most heavily rely on their senses when making diagnostics.

Since most people prefer cheap ill trained mechanics who do not offer the very best but are able to solve mechanical problems, it does not hence matter when the service they offer does not prove satisfactory.

I recently went to one such mechanic on the advice of a frequent user. This was a referral I hoped would prove worthy given my finances were strained to the core and I need a quick fix.

The major problem was as a result of the car having leakage which I did not precisely did not know was coming from which source. The gears failed each time I tried switching them to the drive or reverse mode since it was an automatic contrivance.

When the more experienced mechanic came, he first checked the dipstick and confirmed my fears. The automatic transmission fluid that would have aided in propulsion of the vehicle and changing of gears had been completely drained.

This I attributed to a minor accident I experienced when it rained heavily the previous day and since my car was not fitted with a sump guard, I had summarily viewed off the road and drove on the edges of the road. This was due the fact that the road was heavily flooded and it was a moonless night making it difficult to steer the car on the driveway. This had a severe impact on the under belly of the car damaging various parts and preventing flow of gas as I was driving at a high speed. The container housing ATF was disfigured and this resulted in the continuous subtle leakage that drained the car of enough torque to gain enough propulsion when started.

The mechanic seconded proposed the purchase of ATF which worked. Then we went to his garage for further repair in order to reduce the leakage that had to be checked if the car was to retain ATF. He used silicon to conceal the imminent leakage which was able to check the outflow for only a short while which I thought would have been infinite.

Perhaps the most interesting thing that captured my attention was the fact that the car relied on sensors and had to be reined on in order for it to rejuvenate the strength it previously had. One of the boys who helping the mechanic entered the car in order to test drive it and ignorantly commented that it was not pacing because the sensors were not responding.

He was amazed to see me laughing since the sensor he was pointing at was the indicator which usually signifies when one has not fastened his seatbelt. This was a show of sheer ludicrity that even a nursery school pupil could easily notice. When we fastened the seatbelt, it no longer showed the fault he was claiming. The car had failed to start since it did not have enough gas as the problem of the leakage had been temporarily fixed. When gas was bought, the car easily started and returned to motion again.

The next day however was one to reckon with. When I started the car, it had the same problem I had noticed before and this time round I was wiser. I checked the dipstick and easily noticed that all the ATF had leaked since the ground beneath had evidence of the shoddy workmanship that had been done.

A quack mechanic had only aided in short term repair of helping me move from point A to B. In retrospect, I had acted quite oblivious and the injudicious fellow should have alerted me of the impending calamity that lay ahead having brushed aside the warning owing to his incompetence.

Read More

Engineer's new Bimmer

My older brother has had this air of confidence which borders on arrogance surrounding him ever since he was a child. He is a former first-class graduate in engineering in one of the Ivy League schools of higher learning. As such he secured a job in his fourth year and has never lacked when it comes to matters finances. By his standards, he has accomplished what most of us would only dream of in life.

He is normally booked first class on best chartered carriers and upon arrival he is chauffeured around in some of the best cars that ooze class and can deflate one’s ego if a rival of petty means. Many a time I usually think this is a ploy to pamper him to retain his immense wealth of experience acquired over years in blue chip corporation. As such he never uses the bus as we head to the rural areas via the hectic and uncomfortable buses found in Machakos bus station. He has become a common face in country's millions of dollars loss making and bourse listed airline riddled in a financial mess.

He lives in the suburban bliss and when I did visit while still a scholar, the security guard would look at me the way a supercilious and grandiose Karen resident sneers at an impecunious Kibera micreant. I learnt to condone them owing to the fact that they thought I was of pitiable pedigree. As such it was hard making friends with them. Since it was a long distance from the main road, I could not be able to afford the price of the motorcycles that ferried most to the highly secured, picturesque and beautifully manicured pads.

The other day we had an extended family get together. Some of my aunts came in the latest Japanese machines that I must confess did evoke jealousy among those who had prided in previously owning automobile. One of my uncles had just joined the SFB (Subaru Fan Boys) club. His iconic contraption was what caught the attention of all and sundry. The toy had big wheels and with an equally aggressive body work that subtly shrieked of his newly acquired fortune. The hood was vented and it had a whopper of a rear spoiler in place. He had also upholstered it so that it produced the safari rally noise common in such cars while revving. 

Then it was time to exit the scene. Being a curious fellow, I told all of them to let me test drive the cars considering I had a jalopy I inherited which hitherto had served me well. I can’t complain since it is fuel conservative (literal translation) and efficient and most of the time the previous owner (my old man) comes to my rescue to service it once in a while. 

I never saw my elder brother enjoin us in the hullabaloo that ensured as everyone congratulated the new car owners. He was seated somewhere slowly mulling over this disturbing and humiliating experience on his part. He did not have his own personal car. He was most of the times out of the country and that meant he did not have a car of his own. Seeing people he thought were not as financially muscled as he being congratulated, he retreated and became envious as he also never knew how to drive albeit he had a DL. He had tasked that role to a driver he was assigned as he usually behaved like an ‘engineer.’ What’s up with some engineers by the way, they think they are more learned having only done basic maths in campus which is even too easy. Even a class eight drop out can tackle them effortlessly.

A week later, we were at home. I was watching my favorite comedy series ‘Big Bang Theory.’ Sheldon had just kissed Emmy (In real life Sheldon is gay). The next thing I saw was part of the fence fall down as a Bavarian monster was literally struggling to go beyond the damaged fence. The ignition was still on and I could still hear the accelerator pedal was still being pressed by the driver inside. One of the car tyres was hanging and revolving at a very high speed while the other was on top of the derelict portion. Inside was a man who was wrapped in airbags. He was screaming for help.

How could one resort to damaging a brand new Bimmer when he had already arrived and it was only a matter of parking the car that waited. Since the impact was not quite catastrophic when the revving stopped, I saw a bulky figure emerging out of the car looking disheveled and weary. Alas, it was my brother. He was shaken. 

He had wanted to surprise us by coming back in style but all that had backfired on him when he was on the verge of completing his journey cementing his grand entry. I had to come in handy as an expert driver to remove the car from the wreckage and being a certified first aider from Red Cross, I did basic first aid to him. Inside I noticed some bottles of fine Scotch whisky that can pay a regular campus student’s fee for a whole year and you still you would still get a rebate. The car’s interior was luxurious and angelic white plus everything was fully automated.

My father’s fence was to be repaired. That he declared tacitly. He also had to take the guzzler to Bavaria as there are no cheap spare parts and mechanics in Grogan. Those were just but some of the woes that had afflicted a wounded lion. I bet it’s never prudent to act out of jealousy and envy. 

Later when he was taking the contraption back for repair, his co driver later admitted that he never knew how to even control the air conditioners, the headlights and a variety of other things that were in the car. In fact they had to use the indicator while driving at night. 

I later learnt it was a hired vehicle. The following day upon receipt of the car the owner called the police and that night the two spent a night behind bars as there was no one to come to their rescue. The co driver was released on grounds that he was not part of the deal but my brother had to shoulder the bill unilaterally. That left him with an egg on the face and it was a lesson well learnt.

SITUONANE.

Read More