Running without rules – this is what you get….
I saw the warning sign after I was through with the walk at the
beach. I had used the same public
entrance route at Pirates. If I had missed
this signage on my way to the water mass, then many others were capable of
missing it. It was too late now. I could only reflect.,,
It was a Monday. A day when
there should be nobody at the beach, right? Wrong! The water front was as busy as ever. I have been here before hence can confirm
that this place is always full – no exception.
Now proven.
I was taking WWB Junior to appreciate the marvels of the water
mass. She who previously was reluctant
to taking a surname.
“Wam-what?,” She has asked when I was about to register her for her eight
grade exams.
“That is your surname,” I confirmed as I got busy filling in the KCPE information
papers, in readiness for registration.
“You people could not get any palatable name in the whole wide world?,”
she had expressed her chagrin.
She did not like that surname for long.
I even imagined that she would drop it at some point. It was quite something when she cleared her
secondary education and was still keeping the name. I even observed various connotations of that
name in her school books. She finally
adopted W-jnr.
She is the one who actually drew my attention to the rules as we left
the ocean shores heading to the main Malindi road.
“Ilani – Onyo”, it started off, white letters on a red background,
capital letters. The rest of the writings
were unnumbered…. but the footer indicated: National Police Service and County Government of Mombasa courtesy of Kenya Ports Authority
Rule 1 - that drink
Rule 1 on the sign (first unnumbered item on the listing): Unywaji wa
vileo na utumiaji wa mihadarati hauruhusiwi (Taking of alcoholic drinks and
hard drugs is not allowed)
How is this possible when I had just seen a couple partaking of
assorted brown bottles, which they made no secret about? Did I not even encounter one riffraff who left
a trail of the characteristic bhang smell?
At the very public beach!
Rule 2 on the sign (second unnumbered item on the listing): Kuogolea
uchi na kutembea uchi ufuoni hairuhusiwi (Swimming nude or walking naked is not
allowed)
Bollocks! Lies!
I did count at least five gals who were technically naked, either swimming
or walking. I therefore discount both
clauses of the rule. One of the ‘naked’
girls had approached my pathway, making me momentarily embarrassed in the
company of Jnr. This naked girl had a
small transparent wrap which did nothing to conceal her otherwise bare
undersides. Her front formation was well
laid out with the hairs clearly visible.
Her chest area had something that looked like a strip of cloth,
pretending to be a bra. It was not, it
was a strip. Nothing was concealed. She should have as well just loosed those two
pieces and walked in her birthday suit.
Her colleague, who seemed still on training, had at least tried, by
having some under garment which left so much uncovered nonetheless. Did I imagine her having the bad behavior of
trying to look my direction? No she didn’t. It was may imagination.
“Jameni, huyo hata anipe, siwezi,” someone commented. The someone seem to be in the business of
renting out floatation tubes, say it as it is, inflated tyre tubes.
“Huyo lazima ana mdudu,” he added, to the
benefit of the other four or five people gathered at the show, two of them were
ladies and they had no kind words for Miss Naked either...
“Hao ni wachuuzi. Mwanamke na
heshima zake anaweza kuwa hivyo kweli?,” the spectator lady wondered.
I had the benefit of seeing, listening and witnessing to all this as
the waves hit our feet and pushed us further ashore with every wave break. After all, “macho hayana pazia” (same to
masikio).
Rule 3 on the sign (third unnumbered item on the listing): Uchafuzi wa
mazingira ni hatia (Pollution is illegal)
“Hi ni kama kupigia mbuzi gita,” I told Jnr, as I reviewed this rule
later on as we walked out of the beach.
My observation was different.
The shore was littered with plastic bottles, mostly. Some polythene, some paper. How did glass bottles get into the
water? I saw quite a number.
As if rules 1 and 2 were not pollution enough!
We even saw a dead fish on the shore.
What could have killed it – anything, including a non-conducive
environment that could have been a result of pollution.
Rule 4 on the sign (fourth unnumbered item on the listing): Mda wa
mwisho wa kukaa ndani ya maji ni saa kumi na mbili jioni (6pm) (6pm is the
latest time that one can be in the water)
Finally, a rule that was enforced, but with some coercion. At five-thirty we had heard a whistle. It kept being blown, before we finally made
out the figure of the man blowing off as he walked the beach. With every whistle, he would gesture to the
water in a manner of calling the swimmers towards the shore.
“Saa bado,” someone commented to his earshot.
“Twa anza mapema. Ikifika siksi
basi, watu wawe wametoka wote,” he announced, to the benefit of anyone who
could hear.
He repeated his whistle blowing routine at 5.45pm, and then again at
5.55pm, when he persisted until all were ashamedly forced out of the water – by
just the power of the whistle!
“Why do you think they force people out of the water, yet everybody is
independent and on their own?” Wam Jnr asked.
“Well,” I started, “Rules are rules”
The next day as we took the express from the coastal town back to the
city as we had a reminiscence of the 2-day holiday. The signage in the train that cycles every
minute kept reminding us:
2018-03-06
Now: 16.23
Outside: 35oC
Luggage must not be put in the gateway
Help us to keep the train litter free
Train speed is 0km/h
Train speed is 0km/h
Only the second two lines did change.
The last two lines were exactly that, throughout the 5hour ride. That was the fastest zero km/h that I have
ever travelled at. When it was still working, on my way down coast, the train had severally hit 114km/h, though it tended to average 80km/h. After 300 repeats of
the same wordings over and over again, I was relieved to finally step out of
the Madaraka express, which the ‘lazy’ call SGR. How do you refer to a train a ‘railway’? Isn’t the R in SGR actually the work ‘railway’? Call the thing Madaraka express, the express,
the train or the carriage, not SGR!!!
While I had used a taxi from my residence to the
in-the-middle-of-nowhere train station at Syokimau, I was delighted when we
were shooed to the ‘old’, OK, ‘narrow gauge’ train that was waiting on an
adjacent platform.
“Travel to City Centre at only 50 shillings,” the concierge had announced
on megaphone.
Finally it shall happen. I shall
be able to ride the ‘old’, OK, ‘narrow gauge’ train to city centre. The contrasting experience was something I
was really looking forward to. When I
stepped into it, I noted that the train was changed since the last time I got
into one, more than two decades ago.
Instead of the seats facing each other with an isle in the middle, the
seats were now aligned along the sides of the coach, with the wide middle isle
left for standing passengers. We
initially missed seats, but were encouraged to walk along within ten coaches to
reach an empty coach where we sat. For
information, that ten coach walk is about 150m.
It was quite a walk.
We got into the ‘old’, OK, ‘narrow gauge’ train just after disembarking
from the express. Since the express ‘landed’,
sorry, ‘railwayed’ at 8.15pm, our entry into the old train was from around 8.20pm. By 9.10pm the express passengers were still
streaming into the old train. I have
never seen a full train in my life. Believe
me when I say that it was full. The
rains did not make matters any better, since everyone thought it best to use
this means to the city.
Then… then the unexpected happened, we just started seeing people
disembarking… back to the rainy platform!
“Gari haiendi,” we heard the murmurs.
“This is just great!,” I finally had to say!
The state corporation was willing to lose out on the 50 shillings times
1,000 passengers for whatever reason!!
They had the audacity, the impetus, the infantry, to ask us to
disembark!!! Isn’t government just
great! Who should help the ‘helpless’ in
us when forced out into the cold with no explanation! (And no refund! In fact a refund is necessary. Didn’t I read somewhere in the terms of
service of the express that the ticket price of 700 shillings includes a train
ride from city centre and back back!? I
read that fine print somewhere)
To make matters worse, we were even ‘politely’ chased out of the
terminus building and told that, “It is getting late, hence better for you
people to go out there in the rain since that is where you can easily get
vehicles”
The day could not get worse than it was right now.
The parking yard of the terminus was empty. The public service vehicles must have given
up when they saw no one coming their way when all of us were convinced to get
the old train. We were now facing a new
crisis. Everyone had to turn to taxi
hailing services, and Uber was the worst hit.
Its server probably just crushed!
“Prices are now higher by upto 3 times due to demand,” my Uber app
announced, and projected a cost of about 4,000/= to Uthiru, which normally
should be 1,200 (or less). On the morning
of my travel on Sunday they had offered to ferry me to Syoks for 980/=. Despite that, and just to ensure that the
knife sank in further, they added, “There are currently no drivers available”
“This is just great!!,” I shouted to the phone screen.
A phone call to the employer contracted taxi firm was a bit
positive. The controller confirmed that
for a fare of 2,800/= I shall be taxied to my destination, though he would call
back in ten minutes and confirm when I could get the taxi.
“Where are you?” he had asked
“At Syokimau, SGR Train Terminus”
“That should be easy, since we usually have fleet at the airport,” he
reaffirmed.
Ten minutes later, “We are now ready to pick you. However, the only available cab is at Uthiru
and that is what shall be coming your way.”
I need not tell you that I was quite mad. It is good that I did not graduate to crazy
since I was at this point in time capable of doing something crazy! The rains made my situation worse. It was now heading to ten.
That is when I remembered that I had another taxi hailing app – and the
Taxify came to the rescue. Thought the
first two trials gave me a message almost as crafty as that of Uber – informing
me that the prices were now about 1.5 times higher than normal and there were
not vehicles available, a third attempt gave me a 10-minutes waiting time. And as sure as the sun rises from the East, I
was being called to go to the rainy parking lot to get the taxi. The price of 970 shillings was normal, even lower than
average.
On reflection, I have learnt that “rules are rules” but that is easier
said. Many circumstances shall arise
that shall makes rules to be just that… rules… nothing else. Instinct, situational awareness and the
cellphone shall come in handy at such times.
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Nairobi, Kenya, March 7, 2018
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