Forced to walk… during a run
Do not blame me for getting to Westlands at 8.30am. If anything, I was already late, despite this being a Saturday. It was a Saturday like any other. I take that back. I would usually be in bed at this time, so it was not a ‘normal’ Saturday. I was out early, since I was to get my item purchased by online shopping through a delivery agent in Westlands. As already said, I was sure that the agent opened the shop at eight, since I had confirmed as much the previous day.
I would soon walk to the usual agent’s shop, just around Sarit Centre. It was the very one that I had visited several times in previous occasions, especially before Corona was a real thing and moving around was the norm. Corona infections and afflictions were in the zeros, meaning that it must have been late 2019. The numbers* now stand at 102,860,053 infections with 2,221,933 deaths with Kenyan numbers being 100,563 infections with 1,753 deaths.
It was a free life then. Moving around Nairobi was the norm. Visiting places was the routine. Things were normal then. Life is no longer the same now. Social distancing, hand washing, isolation, facemasking and temperature checks are the buzz words. I now prefer to pay extra to get items delivered to my doorstep, but particular order still slipped through my preference for door deliver.
The circumstance of this ‘slip’ was that I had two addresses registered on the online account. When I placed the order, the first default address was picked by the system ‘incognito’, which was ‘collection from agent’. My second address clearly indicated doorstep delivery. Of course, these online things do not ask you to confirm such information such as delivery address. It just rushes you through a series of next… next… next buttons.
I wonder why it does not show a ‘next’ at that payment page, where you have to deliberately pick a payment method, deliberated confirm the same, then deliberated pay successfully before you can get the ‘next’ at the very end of double and triple confirmations! I even forgot that compulsory OTP sent as a text on phone!
Tricksters!
I had learnt my lessons from this experience and I deliberated changed my address as the first action when I did a subsequent order from the same online retail shop. When beaten, you do learn.
Back to the events of this Saturday, January 30. I was at the usual agent’s shop. Even the signage on the window still confirmed that this was the place. The door was still labelled with the vendors logo. I would soon knock, wait, try the doorknob, and find it locked. It was now just about quarter-to-nine. I was taken aback. I was almost one hour late, and the place was not open. This was not what I would expect of such a public service outlet.
I saw a telephone number written somewhere on the door label, which I decided to call.
“We have shifted to Block A, just next to the gate,” a male voice said casually, without a care in the world.
I left the labelled door and walked out of Block C. I would soon be at the building labelled ‘Block A’, just to my left, despite the gate being to the right. I walked around the ground floor of Block A. Most rooms were still new, some even under renovation. There was no business outlet at all on that floor. I proceeded to the first floor – same storo – ongoing works and no business going on. I decided to try the second floor. Same. Renovations everywhere. I walked out and headed to the gate of the compound.
“Natafuta agent wa Kili,” I asked the sentry.
The lady pointed to a collection of doors just next to where she was sitting next to the gate, “Hiyo door ya tatu, lakini bado wame close. Hawaja come job.”
I proceeded to confirm that the third door was surely locked. The pink door was not even labelled anything to do with the online outlet. It was labelled as some form of boutique. I was now stuck in the hot morning sun with nothing to do but wait.
I would find myself bored after only one minute of doing nothing. I called the same number that I had called on Friday. The lady on the other end of the line first directed me to this new location, which I confirmed was where I was, before she asked me to check for the outlets number which should be embedded somewhere on the collection notification. I surely checked it and found it. I called it a first time, but there was no answer. I waited and tried a second time about ten minutes later, and there was an answer.
I asked why the shop was still closed and whether it would open on that day.
“Nimesahau kifungu kiasi, nikarudi home. Nita come tu ma-time zake,” the lady responded.
For lack of what to say, I asked if that ‘ma-time’ would be within an hour and she affirmed, though I was not holding my breath when I hanged up that phone. I probably would not get the item on this day. Nonetheless, I would still give it the promised ‘ma-time’. I then wondered how even ‘kiasi’ comes into the equation. Would she come with some keys and leave others?
I decided to walk around Westlands to kill some time. I walked round the big circle around Westgate and back to the agent shop, only to find it still closed twenty minutes later. I then decided to do a bigger circle on General Mathenge road, all the way to Lower Kabete road at Spring Valley and then back through Sarit. This longer walk enabled me to finally find the shop open, where I picked my item and was soon gone.
I walked to Waiyaki way and emerged just opposite Fogo Gaucho. This is where the usual Westlands stage, for those plying Uthiru route, would usually be. It was not there. The road works had barricaded that stage and all open space upto the gates of Fogo. Vehicles, included matatus were just zooming on.
“Where is the stage?,” I asked the air as I kept walking towards ABC.
I would soon find myself walking and squeezing myself on the little space left with the road construction and all vehicular traffic. I just kept walking not knowing whether I would get the bus stop anywhere near. I would finally get a stage opposite Safaricom HQ, where I got a matatu and was at Uthiru finally.
I had hardly settled when I got a second message that I shall be receiving a second item ordered from the same online shopping outlet within the day. I called the number given and some guy told me that he would deliver the item around four. He said that he would alert me when he was near Uthiru.
This is something that I forgot, until the phone rang around four-thirty.
“Niko Nuclear ya Uthiru”
“But, lakini ulitakiwa uje madukani?”
He thought for a bit, then, “Lakini sijui madukani. Wewe kuja Nuclear.”
I found myself, for a second time in one day, chasing after an item. I had experienced the episode at the agent outlet in Westlands, now I was experiencing the episode of a lost rider at Uthiru. I walked the 2km to the Nakuru highway and was at Nuclear in under twenty-minutes, just to ensure that I did not keep the rider waiting.
I did not find him at Nuclear petrol station. I called him and he said that he was just near there.
“Nipe two minutes nikupate hapo”
Two minutes would turn to thirty minutes. I had already experienced such forced delays earlier on this day. I was now used to it. I would finally see someone on a motorbike in the middle island of the wide road under construction, beckoning me to get to his position. I got there and picked my item, then finally walked back to my station.
I did not feel anything when none of the two connector gadgets that wasted my morning and afternoon worked. It was just another eight-hundred shillings down the drain, plus all the wasted hours running around. I was ready for such an eventually even when purchasing the items in the first place. The reviews on whether these things worked or not were mixed, with some commentators blaming the phone brands for the failure of these connectors, while others swore that they surely worked. I was not even having the strength to consider complaining. Let me just accept that OTP works well for payments, but OTG gadgets do not seem to work for me. Things happened, but life continues.
*source: worldometers
WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Jan. 30, 2021
