Of little frustrations in Nairoberry, where just playing my part is not enough

Me, I don’t know.

I’m yet to find a day that I wake up to a world bila news that make me angry. Spent last Saturday morning reading worrying news of what’s been happening down in SA lately, xenophobia and all. But then a quick check back home and UNCHR has around 3 months to close Daadab. So bad is everywhere you look. I know, many issues. Our security a concern so much so that we are building a 700km wall. Oh, well. Hail the tenderpreneurs. Insecurity has big money. But then we are sending those refugees back to Somalia probably because we thrive on knee jerk reactions to our problems all the time. Jana I read that Yemen refugees have fikad the horn of Africa. Boats are docking at Djibouti, and probably they will come down to Somaliland soon. Look at Kidero now. I’m no expert in queue theory but you can’t have 4lane traffic feeding into 2 lanes and not expect awkwardness. That’s the only nice term I can afford for the chaos that I experience everyday. But what do I know; the mtungi and mchanga people wouldn’t have won tenders to supply the drums. I know I shouldn’t envy Rwanda much but last I visted, they didn’t have traffic mess, insecurity and their streets are lit and clean, man. Maybe I should write a personal letter to Kidero.  Why aren’t street lights never working or harvested all the time they are put up. Now Nairobi is like a little dark hole. Ok, a big dark one. Oh, I know some parts are. And then the little mounds of earth that we have along the Yaya-Kileleshwa-Riverside bypass.

Having been accustomed to walking home under the cover of darkness, and saw some vans a couple of weeks ago, seemingly digging out earth in a manner of laying down or repairing some electric fault, I was excited that perhaps things will work again. I could not tell whether the vans belonged to Kenya Power but my skepticism was starting to wear off, and a far off was a little excitement that lights would work. And I would even walk home a little later in the evening without mistaking every pole or little bush for a terrorist or moving object with an ability to harm me. Actually a few more lights worked and it looked beautiful. But suddenly most of them are off. I have been keenly checking whether night runners may have run down the street light pole or a bulbpreneur may have lifted it off to sell it again, but nay, things are as they were before. Where a light never worked, it still never works. Where we had pole standing erect with no bulb, we still have no bulb. And where a light pole was flattened off by a swinging night runner, a strayed motorist or similar, the pole is still knocked off.

And now this is what annoys me most. I had started to toy with the idea of investing in a bike, as while my route to work is traffic ridden, it’s probably the only route I have seen with a nice pedestrian and cycle track. But they have messed it up. Never fixed lights hence making me more upset than I was before they attempted to fix it. Why, you tell me, would they excite me that the street would be lit and then squash my hope? Anyhow, I have moved on quickly. My current annoyance is the little mounds of earth along the hitherto pleasant to walk on, walkways along the bypass. Why would they leave that mess there?

And then all the uchafu in the drain along the road. I remember breathing fire under my nose another day because a mama in some little car had her kids throw this huge pizza box through the window. Luck was on their side because they sped off just as I was about to reach them and inform that they had dropped one of their goodies, and should make a turn to go and pick it up. I know there are people who will litter the streets whether or not bins are installed at their feet. And then if only Kanju people arrested these  people with the diligence as they collect levies. I remember a buddy who was carried up in the air by Kanju people for talking on phone while crossing the road. Before we could turn in his direction, they has scooped him off, and already bargaining for their cut.

Just outside Yaya, there are all these Vibandas. And hail the entrepreneurial spirit of these mamas who wake up to make all kinds of goodies for passersby. But this is right next to a bus stage. Where because of aforementioned traffic chaos on the bypass, you factor an hour of queuing before catching your bus to work. Matatu, I mean. And while at it, inhaling all kinds of stench, the urea from the street rascal that used the drain in the manner of a urinal, right next to where the vibandas are, and the filthy water and residue from these food vibandas. Very unsightly. Only that the men who squat there every morning, gulping in the milky tea and sweet potato with relish, don’t seem concerned about what bothers my mind.

I got no idea how the permits for these food kiosks work, but if someone is checking, shouldn’t there be a regulation against having food prepared in open jikos right next to a bus stop? Probably make better food stalls, ventilated, proper drainage and lease out to these mamas at a small cost, if we must do it this way. But chaos is everywhere, so moving to a different place is not a solution, because I dream of a better Nairobi. And in my dreaminess, I hope they will fix security, traffic and the city would be clean. Maybe we need someone to adopt our security. Someone to adopt our traffic management. Someone to adopt our waste management. I just don’t know.  I can afford patience when we are making even the faintest steps in the right direction. But when we are cruising at high speed towards the wrong direction, I get very worried. Didn’t someone wise already tell us that if you find yourself in a pit, the first step is to stop digging. Jesus take the Wheel. Me, I can’t.