Tag Archives: matatu

Getting hit on in matatus

Getting hit on in matatus

I am typing away at the computer. This is my favourite part of the job. Not the data entry, that makes me feel like the Epson machine next to me. I laugh at that very techie joke in my standards and think about Wendy back in high school, the girl’s idea of studying was making a replica of her notes in a different exercise book. Oh well, we can’t all be interesting. I draft, edit and save all documents and would you look at the time…4.00 pm. This is starting to get old, I think… Continue reading →

Broke girl’s paradise

Broke girl’s paradise

I am squeezing coins real tight in my palm lest they fall and scatter and disappear into the night bush like my life depends on it. You see, I am headed to town and specifically at this time, half hour late for work, to save money so you can imagine my near hypertension moment when the bus tout says that the fare is ten shillings above what I so desperately cling to. I stand my ground and make the least diva face I can manage. I am born diva. I have held my head high… Continue reading →

Would you date a matatu conductor?

Would you date a matatu conductor?

We all have been heartbroken, it was my first time, the ache was too much, my heart was in ruins, it did not help that it was raining and I was getting late for an interview, Murphy’s Law was in total force. That is when I saw him, in black trousers, a red cap and a red t-shirt written, “Dig This?” He had a baby face, not too light, not too dark, curly hair and a swagger in his step. I dug him already. He smiled as he walked toward me and in a moment… Continue reading →

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