A boda boda ride that opened my economic eyes

One of the tragedies of improving your economic status is getting isolated from ordinary people, the hoi polloi.

Owning a car makes your life lonely. I miss with sincerity the good old days when I could easily strike up a conversation with a stranger in a matatu. When phones had not enslaved us and taken our humanity away.

This isolation may explain why our leaders make strange decisions. They are cut off from reality.

It’s easy to forget you once walked, ate in a kiosk or had someone knocking on your door at the end month for rent.

It’s worse for those who are class-conscious and yearn to escape poverty. Did I see someone stopping cars on the expressway to pass?

As you become wiser, you learn that poverty has nothing to do with material things.

Some reading this might have enjoyed sleeping better in a grass-thatched house on the floor than in a five-star hotel room and on a six-by-six bed. 

Recently, I encountered economic reality in Ziwani estate, Eastlands, Nairobi, after dropping my Vitz for body work.

Why are mechanics always working in the back alleys? Why can’t we give them space?

Remember those who worked on Kipande Road near the museum? Where did they go? I had to make way to Thika Road, specifically the Utalii Hotel.

I had several options. Take Uber or matatu to town and another to Thika Road. Or pick the usual taxi. It’s only six kilometres. I could even walk! I did eight kilometres every day in primary school.

Traffic rules

I opted for a nduthi (motorbike) negotiating to Sh250. In ten minutes at peak hour, I got to my destination. Remember nduthis don’t follow traffic rules.

Beyond meeting reality, I learnt that the Uber app helps you discover and negotiate prices better with “other” taxis and nduthis. 

 Eastlands, despite a few high-rise buildings, has a vibe and life. And I must add innocence.

Few see this as an asset. But is happiness and being self not what we all strive for? Why else do we love talking mother tongue when drunk? 

Paying by M-Pesa, I noted the rider‘s surname is a woman’s name from Central Kenya.

That is a greater crisis in this region; it supersedes the loss of a deputy president. 

I forgot my status as I sat on a nduthi and met the economic reality most Kenyans go through every day. Have you encountered such a reality?

Did you appreciate it? Let us talk about it.