When tired…. Accept and run on

When tired…. Accept and run on

Monday was my usual day of run.  I was good to go, after a three-day rest period.  I started the run at 11.40am and felt fairly well as I did that first kilometre.  The weather was good, being sunny with the morning sun.  However, it was a bit hot, even as I finished the first k and started on the second.  I was on the same good old ‘new’ route from Eldy town to Kipkenyo centre and back.  The turning point at the centre is on the 8km mark, and that is where I was aiming for.  My tiredness started being manifest on the second kilometre.  I just felt tired thereafter and almost turned back.  The spirit was however willing but it was residing on a weak body on this day.  Was it the heat?  Was it the high altitude?  Was it just the day to be tired?

I however kept going with a view of ‘stretching’ the run to the very limit of collapse, then see how it shall go.  This stretching would get me to the 8km turning back point at ACK Kipkenyo Secondary.  I was just glad that I had made it to this turning point.  But now the real task was just about to start.  I was now 8km from home and I was as tired as a log.  I had to somehow drag myself through the uphill that runs from 2000m above sea leave at the 8km mark, to the 2100m at the finish line.  This run back has been difficult every time that I have been on this run.  Today it was twice difficult as I was the most tired ever.

What must be done must be done, and so I just turned back and started the slow uphill hill over the eight-thousand metres.  That distance was long!  It is just the dream of hitting that finish line eventually, at some point, that kept me going.  I would otherwise have just given up and probably taken a matatu back, in my sweaty form.  I did not take the matatu, but instead kept going.  I usually do not carry money with me, and hence the matatu option would also have not worked anyway.  

My tired body pounded that tarmac somehow, all the way to the 15km mark at the junction where I would either turn to the left to go back to the finish, or turn right to increase my kilometre-age through Langas Kisumu Ndogo.

The mere thought of turning right was already just painful, leave alone forcing my body to turn to the right when the time came.  Finally, I was at the junction and…. And I surely turned left and headed to the finish line.  There was no way I was going for anything more than a k.  I was just glad that I would be finishing the run in another five minutes.  I eventually finished run!  How I managed the 16.32km in a time of 1.28.26 is still a wonder.  That 5.25min per km pace was the most painful pace I have experienced in a long time.  

I was exhilarated that I had managed to finish the day’s run ‘somehow’.  The tiredness would just momentarily evaporate, just like that, since I was back to normalcy immediately after the shower.  Despite this, I wanted to forget the experiences of this run in a hurry and be ready for a better experience next time.  Nonetheless, the body dictates and decides on how to carry itself – some days are good, others days are bad and yet others are ugly.  Today was one of those Mondays.

I would momentarily be seated for the afternoon rest.  The next major event of the week was to be the announcement by the GOK on the next stages of COVID-19 restrictions, since the current modalities were set to expire tomorrow, Tuesday.  I expected that announcement same tomorrow.  I thought that that is the date of announcement as already promised.  It was therefore a real surprise when I heard the prime news item that the announcement was actually on this very day.  I am however already used to extension of restrictions, and was therefore not expecting any better, whether the announcement was today or tomorrow.  

Corona aka ‘the thing’ or TT was still causing havoc on planet earth.  Worldwide confirmed infections now stood at 33,492,659* with 1,005,057 fatalities (3% mortality rate) and 24,801,703 recoveries.  At number 69 in the world, ranked by number of infections was Kenya with 38,168 infections, 700 deaths (1.8% mortality rate) and 24,681 recoveries.  In Kenya, the rate of samples that are being confirmed positive from any sample size was now about 4%, from a high of 14% in June.  This reduced positivity rate had already generated a debate that corona was now a goner, and that life should be reinstated back to ‘normal’.  I was not holding my breath on this end-of-TT prediction.  And it is even good that I did not….

There were no surprises when the night curfew was extended for another two months, meaning that night events would continue to be off until December.  Despite this, more extensions during that December festive month is the likely scenario.  This thing is likely to run until 2021.  The curfew hours had however been shortened to 11pm to 4am, unlike the previous 9pm to 4am.  

Other extensions of restrictions included public gathering still being limited, but to 200 people instead of 100, while the tax reprieve for individuals and corporates would remain in force until end of year.  Attendance at places of worship would remain restricted, but the maximum numbers had now been revised to one-third of the building’s capacity.  Schools and educational institutions would however remain closed, until the ‘how’ of their operation upon reopening was addressed.  

Finally, it was a reprieve to liquor business since bars would be opened for the first time in six months, and they would operate until ten.  Other eateries which could not sell liquor previously, despite being open, would now also be allowed to offer ‘kanyuanji’ to their revelers.  This was a long time coming and I know that hell shall break loose when these restrictions are lifted from tomorrow.  

Well, marathons remain suspended and maybe being tired today was just a good thing, as I can continue resting in readiness for the time when the runs resume.  It could have been a disaster if I would have felt this way during one of the September marathons such as Ndakaini.

*All data from worldometers website

WWB, the coach, Eldy, Kenya, 28-Sep-2020

When Thursday is Friday

When Thursday is Friday

I would have to miss my Friday run and I was not happy about it.  However, what must be done must be done, and on this Friday the ‘what must be done’ was to get back to Huduma centre, three weeks later to confirm if the new smart DL was ready.  It was on such a Friday, three weeks ago, that I was spending my whole morning at the centre, to initiate the renewal and migration process.  Renewal because the license had expired, and migration because I had to get the new smart card size chip card that is the new license to replace the ‘red book’.

I was therefore forcing myself onto a Friday run on Thursday.  I would have preferred to have the Friday run on Friday as expected, but the Huduma appointment was just too important for even the usual Friday run appointment.  Occasionally, Thursdays are Fridays in the world of marathons, and the Thursday’s Friday run became a reality on this Thursday.  I was still tired from the Monday 25k, but the Friday was already here, one day earlier, and I just had to do this.

This Thursday run would be the good old ‘new normal’.  I was now used to this old ‘new route’ from Eldy town to Kipkenyo centre and back.  When back, I would add the Langas (Kisumu Ndogo) loop to make the run complete.  This run turned out to be heavier on my legs than usual.  I was hardly surviving the run.  While I did an ‘under 5min per km’ on Monday hardly three days ago, I was sure that I would even be do a ‘6min per km’ on this Thursday.  That would still be very OK with me.  I was just too tired and wanted to get this Thursday-Friday run done with.

After about 1hr and 40 minutes, I was emerging from the Langas road to join the Kapsabet-Eldy road to head towards town.  I would soon be through with the run.  The weather was unusually hot.  It has not rained for three days, after a streak of about a week of daily rains.  I was sweating profusely.  The air seemed humid and I laboured to get a full chest intake of air.  I however persisted since the run would soon be over.  I would momentarily run past Eldoret Poly that was on the opposite side of the road.  I kept my run towards town, with the vehicles to town alongside my run route, just to my right.  They overtook me, but I kept going.

After about five minutes on the highway, I would see the imposing white story building that houses Khetia supermarket just ahead, across Sosiani river.  I would have reached that mart just across the river, some two hundred metres after the river had I continued on with the main tarmac.  I would instead turn left just before the river.  I would then take another left turn for the road towards my finish line.  I was just glad to have finished the run.  I was shocked that I was actually on a 5min 14sec average pace.  I was sure I was on the six-ish range.  That was still fast over the 24k route.  However, on this day, I was just glad that I was through with the second and last run of the week.  Phew!  No more runs until next week.

Looking ahead, I still had that Friday appointment with Huduma that I was not looking forward to.  And I had hardly had any rest before it was a Friday already and I found myself on the Huduma queue at 7.30am.  I had thought that I was early, but I ended up being about the fortieth person on the ‘NTSA’ queue.  It seemed that this queue had created a reputation of its own, since it was now secluded for ‘licenses’ only, out of the over twenty services available at the centre.  Other people who wanted to get other services had their own single queue.  On this day, this ‘other queue’ for all ‘other services’ had less than ten people.  Our own queue kept growing with over thirty people behind me.  Long and short queue, we all waited for the doors of the Post Office that house the centre to open at eight.

At eight the doors did open and we started streaming into the internal of the building, in batches of ten.  The ‘system’ must have been working well on this day, since I was inside the building at 8.30am, to now face the internal queue.  I was not in any hurry with the service.  I was here to stay even upto midnight, provided the service was on offer.  My fingers were now just crossed over this ‘system’ issue.  Hoping that it would decide to continue behaving.  So far, so good.

There was nothing noteworthy in the collection of the ATM card sized license.  Just hand over your national ID, scan your index finger, sign a register, repeat telling them your phone number, which is already on the register and also on the system that they are using anyway, then off you go with your two cards that they would have handed back to you.  Simple!  Why it takes forever still beats me!

I left the centre at ten-thirty.  That was a record.  On this day, I was facing almost similar settings to those that were prevalent some three weeks ago, when I spent two more hours.  Maybe things are changing for the better.  I sure did hope so.  Maybe it was that threat of dissolution of ‘the government’ and the very possibility that we shall in 90-days be in similar queues to re-elect a ‘new government’?  Whatever it was that was making service faster, should surely continue being there.  However, it was not all rosy inside the centre.  We observed as four or five ‘strange’ people jumped the queue and got served ahead of our waiting group.  These ‘jumpers’ would normally be brought in by the soldier man with the big gun hang on his shoulders.  Dare you say?  Well, that is life, but our patient eventually paid off.

I walked back home with lots of questions.  I still did not get the rationale of change of licenses from ‘red book’ to ‘ATM’ aka smart DL.  Was it just to make us queue?  And part with 3k?  I still did not see its real value even as I examined its information, which was just similar to what is on the national ID.  Didn’t one of the people on the queue even state that we shall be renewing this card every three years?  Facing the same pay-queue-apply-queue-collect cycle?  What is the obsession with ‘new’ cards?  Do not even remind me that we still have the Huduma number card still pending.  The very card that was supposed to ‘consume’ all cards into a single universal card.  Yes, the Huduma number of June last year, that was to have been issued by August…. last year.

I would have been able to still do the Friday run on schedule after all, since I was through with Huduma in very good time and could have been ready and available for the mid-day run.  Anyway, what is done is done and that Friday run on Thursday was still hurting my feet on this day.  It still counted as Friday run for that reason.

“Ooopppssss!,” I exclaimed, hardly one hour after thinking about the possibility of the run.  

It was already drizzling.  The drizzles would soon turn into a heavy rain.  It was torrential by one.  I was now glad that I did not do my run on this Friday.  It could have been the most messed up run of the month.  But things would get worse.  The rain persisted all through the afternoon all the way into the night.  It was still raining by eleven.  At this rate it would probably rain throughout the night.  

So as the rain continued in the background, I could not help but just sit around and get some current affairs going.  I would hear that we are soon coming to the ‘end of Corona’, with schools set to re-open next month.  It was now forgone that life would have to go on despite any prevailing circumstances.  The circumstances of which included the fact that worldwide COVID-19 infections now stood at 32,695,693 with 991,661 fatalities and 24,096,953 recoveries.  In Kenya, we would have to live our lives as normally as possible despite 37,707 infections, 682 fatalities and 24,504 recoveries.  Life continues.

WWB, Eldy, Kenya, Friday, September 25, 2020

Six months later…

Six months later…

Today has many significant events worth remembering.  It is 9-11.  Yes, the date in 2001 when terrorists attached the twin towers buildings in the US and brought them down, causing death to 2,996 people and damage to property.  Thereafter, the terrorists affiliated to the event have continued to attack, damage and kill people in different places in the world, especially on or around this date.

It is also on 3-11, six months ago, when the World Health Organization, WHO, declared that a new virus, the Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Corona Virus version 2 of 2019 (SARS-CoV-2-2019) as a global pandemic.  The disease caused by this virus came to be known as Corona Virus Disease (COVID-19).  The virus and disease originated from a food market in China’s Wuhan City in Hubei province in December 2019.  The virus then started spreading from China to the rest of the world… one country at a time.

On that date that WHO was declaring ‘the thing’ aka TT as a pandemic, the world had recorded 123,416* infections and 4,641 deaths.  Those 124 thousand infections were distributed in regions as follows Americas had 1010, South-East Asia 189, with 22,320 in Europe, 9966 in Eastern Mediterranean, 71 in Africa and 89,860 in Western Pacific.  The deaths were distributed worldwide as 28 in Americas, 1002 in Europe, 2 is SE Asia, 364 in E-Med, 0 in Africa and 3238 in W-Pacific.

In the same month of March when WHO was declaring that pandemic, and in response to this pandemic did Kenya also initiate a dusk to dawn curfew and lockdown of four regions, including the cities of Nairobi and Mombasa.  On that 3-11 date, when WHO was declaring the worldwide pandemic, Kenya had 0 cases of Corona virus.  

The new virus was spreading through breathing in respiratory droplets (cough, sneeze) from an infected person.  The infected people exhibited symptoms such as fever, dry cough and tiredness as common ones, with some reporting loss of smell and taste.  The virus incubation period was determined as 14-days, leading to such a duration of isolation after travel to a hot zone or self-isolation when one suspected that they had the infection.  

However, only a few of those with the disease required hospitalization, and most would just suffer the discomfort of the infection symptoms and get well without the need for medication.  Getting rid of the virus from their body in two or so weeks.  At the period of disease, those ailing are advised to take lots of rest, avoid interactions with other people, be on a balanced and healthy diet.  Visiting the hospital should be the last resort, when home rest is not helping at all.  

It was therefore a virus that was serious and not serious at the same time.  Serious because it was new, with many unknowns and spreading exponentially, but not serious due to the low mortality and hospitalization rates.  

Unfortunately, some of those who needed hospitalization would turn out to be surely badly off, with respiratory failure and hence needed assistance to breath by use of ventilators.  This need for ventilators posed a new medical challenge since this required a higher level of hospitalization facilities with associated equipment and expertise costs.  This is where the disease was considered a serious thing.  Lack of such intervention would surely mean death.  This is serious I tell you.

Six months later and the world is different.  There are no more social gatherings or any grouping of more than ten.  Bars and night clubs are closed.  Hotels and restaurants are mostly operating take away service or minimal occupancy with short operating hours.  Night life ended, as most countries have night curfews from nine.  People have to put on face masks when in any public place, including while using public or private transport.  

Temperature checks and handwashing or hand-sanitization at entrance to public spaces such as supermarkets, public transport systems and office blocks has become the new norm.  Humanity have to keep a distance of at least one-metre from each other wherever they are, be it while using vehicles or while being served in a supermarket.  This restriction on number of people at any gathering has meant that sports and social events are now cancelled for the year.  

All marathon events are not possible this year.  The organizers of the Stanchart Nairobi International marathon that was to be held on Sunday, October 25, 2020 have already communicated the cancellation. The event is now pushed to next year and is scheduled for Sunday, October 31, 2021.  However, this remains a tentative date, meaning that the possibility of another postponement exists.  That is how badly things have gone.  Ndakaini marathon that should have been held tomorrow, Saturday, September 12 is off.  The Mater Heart run of May was cancelled (read the list of marathons on this earlier blog, where anything scheduled since April 1 has been cancelled)

Our own monthly ‘international’ marathons remain cancelled since March.  I do not see possibility of holding any such event this year.  Nonetheless, individual runs are ongoing just like the one I did this lunch hour, despite them being lonely, boring and non-motivating.  I was on the same route from Eldy town to the 8km junction at Kipkenyo, then back same route then added a twist on the 15k mark leading to a finish on the 22.32km mark.  That was a 1hr 52min 46sec run.  I was glad that I was not rained on, for the first time in many runs.  The last time I took this selfsame route was on Monday.  The rain hit me through the last five minutes of that run.  Today I was lucky, was I not?

But not being rained on did not prevent the world from the reality of Corona virus as we mark the 6-month anniversary of the declaration of the pandemic.  While the total cases were only 124,116* on 3-11, when TT was declared a pandemic, the infections now stand at 27,972,386* with 905,413 deaths.  The infections per region (and fatalities) being 14.4M in Americas (0.5M), 5.1M in SE Asia (89k), 4.6M in Europe (0.2M), 2M in E-Med (54k), 1.1M in Africa (23k) and 0.5M in W-Pacific (11k).  The infection numbers have multiplied 226 times in that 6-month period.

Good news is that the fatality rate for TT remains relatively low at 3.2% world average.  Nonetheless, loss of life remains a serious thing and we do hope that this COVID thing shall be defeated soon.  Several vaccine initiatives are at advanced stages of development, while Russia already has a vaccine available for its masses.  It is now just a matter of time before TT is defeated.  Let us enjoy the secluded moments while they last.  We shall be soon back in the midst of big crowds… laughing out loud in crowded eateries…. while looking back at how 2020 was a totally messed up year.  

Enjoy the moments while they last.

*All the data used in this article are from who.int

WWB, the coach, Eldy Kenya, Sep. 11, 2020

When you have nothing to do, do nothing

When you have nothing to do, do nothing

Today I had the misfortune of watching a reality show, rather the remote fell from the table to the floor and the button pressed themselves to a channel that had a reality show.  I believe that I must have watched a similar setting of such a show, but must have been many many year ago – emphasis many many.  By then it seemed to have been a program with content.  There was humour and lessons in equal measure at that time.  However, what the remote stumbled upon today was nothing comparable.  

I have nothing against anybody who adores reality, and this particular one.  You are entitled to your liking, that is, if saying the f-word every sentence is your fancy.  Is it to get attention with the viewers or what?  I know that the program narrative usually starts with many strangers being forced into a house over a course of 40-days, during which time one or two of the housemates are eliminated until a winner emerges many weeks later.  At least, that is how it was then.  

I do not know how it is now.  I blame the remote for forcing me into watching this day’s version, rather to have some background sound as I blogged away.  I long for the good old days, when reality made sense!  Now it is a matter of curse and swear to get attention, followed by doing nothing to waste the little attention.  The R18 rating is a waste of a classification label.  There is nothing 18 about it.  Swear and curse does not make something 18.  Singing nonsensically over a full hour makes no sense.  

Trying so hard to get attention by the vulgar does not add any value.  Even the scenes that should surely have been x-rated and no longer anything close.  If dressing skimpily, commenting about body parts, lamenting loudly about going to the washroom (instead of just going!) and playing nonsensical games deserves an x, then so be it.  Shouldn’t viewing a program leave you enriched?  Give you some lessons?  Draw some ironies and life lessons?  You have a higher chance of learning something from square pants than that biggie program.

But could the portrays on this program be what it means to people when they have nothing to do?  Doesn’t the saying already tell us that ‘if you have nothing to do, then do not do it (here?)’.  You are better off doing nothing on a long queue waiting for government services, than being behind this screening.  Oh Yes, doing nothing on a long queue waiting for GOK services….

It started when the government decided to migrate my data from the forms that I had filled, into an online system, without my consent, knowledge or information.  However, that was not the big deal, since it is expected that the forms that we routinely fill-in would end up in a computer system anyway.  The big deal was that they made an error in spelling my name when doing that data migration.  I had checked the information on the online e-gova site and noted this error about two years ago.  

I had immediately sent an email to the address given for such purposes and asked the provider to make the changes.  The email was not acknowledged or acted upon.  The phone numbers provided on the site were not going through.  It was not an urgent issue at that time, since I could still undertake renewals using manual methods without the need for integral system data.

The government then started the process of changing of driving licenses from the current ‘red book’ to a smart card, where the information is stored in a chip, unlike the book where renewals are printouts that have to be affixed in the book.  These small almost ATM card size receipts had been bulging the red book with every additional renewal ticket.  

This would be no more with the anticipated changes.  Just an ATM size plastic card was all that was in the offing.  A chip in that card would carry all the data.  That is simple enough and good enough.  This project was not urgent over the last two years, since the migration would be phased, and would be rolled out upon the subsequent renewal.  With renewals running either one- or three-years, with the latter the preferred, the transition was surely expected to be phased and likely smooth.

My renewal was due early in the year, and I had decided to migrate to the new smart version.  Despite that, the powers that be had already decided that all renewals from 2020 would be to the new smart system anyway.  This renewal and hence change to new card was however only possible by initiating an online application on the same system that had an error on my name.  The same system that gave a warning that one should not undertake the renewal if there was an error of any sort in their data.  Such erroneous information was to be reported on the online system for correction first.  

I did this reminder online correction request in January, knowing that I still had upto end of February before license expiry.  That online correction request of January, just like previous requests, was never responded to.  An email and a reminder email in the same month for action on the correction were not answered either.  The phone number given on the website was going unanswered and other numbers shown were non-existent.  By March, I had decided to probably just go to their offices and have the correction done.  Then….. then corona hit and everything came to a standstill and the country virtually shutdown.

I revived the issue of data correction and renewal last month, when I took my sabbatical break from the many runs that had been my routine since March.  I sent new reminder emails, which still went unanswered, while the online application for correction remained unattended.  The phone numbers provided on the site were still not being answered and the corona thing also meant that probably there was no one of the other end of the phone.  I was getting desperate to at least renew the license.  Had there been no error on my data, then the process would generally be smooth – I would just have applied online, paid for the service by mobile money or card, then gone to a registration centre in the country and applied for the new license. 

I was searching the web to get sentiments on how services were being offered and what my other country-people were feeling about this new license thing.  The feelings were worse than I thought!  There were complains from Moyale to Kwale!  I was even forced to get to FB, which I have not done in a long time, just to get a sense of what the people were saying on the providers site.  I observed that it was a general concern and frustration about this issue of correction of data and generally non-responsiveness to emails.  

I also saw that going to a registration centre for the application process was a frustration in all ways possible, from the centres not having tools, delays in process, repeat visits, delayed receipts of final licenses to long queues.  However, I was still in the process of data correction first, before I could start the real frustration.  Checking the FB at least enabled me get a new email address, which was not on the official site, and which was offered for communicating issues of data correction.

I was not holding my breath when I resend my email to the new address.  I had already resigned to the fact that I would never renew the license until I get back to the city, which would be sometime later in the year.  And this would mean going to their offices in person.  I was even contemplating renewing the license with an incorrect name, and then start the process of name correction later.  All these options were now on the table.

It was therefore pleasantly surprised when I got a response to my email, hardly 24-hours later, that the correction had been done.

“This can’t be true!,” I murmured as I quickly got online to check on my details to confirm the correction.

It turned out to be true.  The one misspelt letter, M instead of W, was now corrected.  I did not even wait to reconfirm.  I was quickly initiating the renewal process and paying up the 3,050 for the smart license so that I get this done with.  For the second time I was seeing this breakdown of 3,000 as the license fee, while 50 was a ‘convenience fee’.  The first time was when applying for a passport two years ago.

I have never understood the logic of this convenience fee.  It would only make sense if all options were given, each with its associated cost, so that we can judge the convenient option and then decide whether to use that option and pay its fee, if we believe it is the ‘convenient’ option.  But this is a fixed amount that all have to pay in a tupende-tusipende style.  I would strongly suggest that they just include this fee in main charge, other than giving it a separate name and forcing everyone to pay it nonetheless.

Anyway, I was just glad that this process was now underway.  After the payment, I had to pick a ‘collection point’, which is where I should collect the smart card.  The list had many towns in Kenya.  I picked Eldy.  It was then just too good to be true, when the next process asked me to pick a date and time when I should visit the collection office to register my biometrics.  

Well, ‘collection point’ was now more like ‘registration point’.  But this still did not make sense.  Doesn’t the big brother already have this data?  Why the duplication?  I provided all this info and more during the Huduma number registration process!  Including these very self-same biometrics!  Did I not even provide a retina scan in that Huduma number process of last year June?

Nonetheless, I needed this project done with, and so I picked a date and a time.  The time slots were being picked from a green array of small rectangles drawn on the screen.  Any unavailable time slot was marked as a red rectangle.  None of those coloured rectangular arrays, about 50-per-row, for a total of about 4-rows had any indication of what time they represented.  There was just a display of about 50-rectangles, most green, some red, in 4-rows.  You just had to guess and click on some box, before the time that the rectangle represented would pop up.  I scanned row number two of the green rectangles and clicked somewhere on the first half of the array.  I saw a pop up showing, “10.10 – 10.12” as the box turned red.  I clicked it once more and it turned back to green colour.

Too early, I thought.  I clicked another green box, about ten boxes away to the right.  It showed “11.57-11.59”.  I unclicked it, then decided to click the box that was five columns to the right of this particular one and I got a slot that I liked, “12.10-12.12”.  I clicked it and it turned red.  Thereafter, the screen indicated that I was booked to visit NTSA offices at the indicated time on Thursday, September 4.

That technology was just top notch.  Despite that time booking system lacking in details on what each green block represented, it was still quite something.  Good stuff!  Great technology!  Booking users in 2-minute time slots was just pure genius.  No more congestions.  Just be there at your time and you are sorted.  It even sounded too good to be true. 

I was at the designated offices at exactly 12.05pm on the designated Thursday.  I had given myself a five-minute advance arrival to clear any preliminaries, including the gate access, where the sentries tend to take their sweet time (and stubbornness, depending on temperament).  I can however not say that I was any surprised, when the sentry told me with all politeness (thankfully), that the service was not being offered at these offices and that I should go to Huduma centre instead.

Though I was not very surprised, I still felt cheated out of the seemingly smooth process.  It had just been too good to be true.  The true colours of the real process were now coming out, surely and progressively.  I did not know for sure, but just guessed that Huduma centre should be at the Post Office.  It usually is.  So, with pure instinct as my guide, I rushed towards the direction of the PO.  I still guessed that I had a 12.10pm appointment.  I would just barely make it, but I would make it nonetheless despite being probably a bit sweaty.

When I reached the PO, I immediately knew that this was the Huduma centre, even without any signage or being told so.  I could see the two long queues leading to the entrance of the building, as I approached the gate to the compound of the PO.  Did I really have an appointment at all in this setting?  I approached slowly without much hope that I would be served at 12.10pm.  It was now already 12.10pm.  I approached one long queue that was winding round the building, where I probably was the fiftieth person.  I asked the forty-nineth person whether the queue was for license renewals and he confirmed that it was.

I was stuck!  So much for booking an online appointment!

I was just about to ponder on whether I was ready to stay on queue until midnight when someone who had a windbreaker sweater with the words ‘huduma’ on the right breast pocket walked along the queue, repeating every often as he walked along, “Walio kujia license warudi kesho au Monday.”

I could have chanced and waited to be served, however late it could have turned out to be, even if it was midnight had the promise of service been assured.  But now, an official was already telling us to leave and come back another day.  Most people on the queue did not react to the statement.  They stayed put.  I had a different approach.  I obeyed his call and left for home.  My appointment was already disappointed and I would just have to try another day.  That ‘other day’ would be the very next day, Friday, but with a new approach that would cater for all the experiences that I had encountered and the lessons learnt from them so far.

On Friday I took the fifteen-minute walk to Huduma to ensure that I would be there at exactly eight, when the centre would open up.  Oh, my, my!  How wrong would this strategy turn out to be?  I was approaching the gate of the PO compound when I saw the long queue already winding around the building.  This was just crazy!  I almost just turned back without even trying!  I would instead join the queue at the exact position that I had joined in the previous day – with about fifty people still ahead.  The centre had not yet opened up.  The time was just about eight.  I just joined the queue and hoped for the best.  I had a Swahili story book about Mau mau rebellion at hand and headphones at head.  I had not planned to use these two arsenals at all, but they were now proving to have been the right tools for the day.

The queque remained static for some time.  A staffer of Huduma would soon get to our standing position moving progressively from the first person.  He was checking on our documents.  He wanted us to show the copy of invoices that we had printed, and also a screenshot confirming the online booking.  None of these was a requirement when applying.  If anything, the whole information was already online and printing the very same just to show out was an overkill and a waste of trees.  Those without printouts were told to get them either immediately, or wait to get in and get them printed at the cyber.  

I recalled one complain that I had read amongst list of frustrations was that when the invoice ‘disappears’ from the online system then it is surely disappears, without any way of getting it back whatsoever.  In my case, I have made a habit of just saving everything savable, and printing progress screenshots when dealing with gava websites.  This is because you never know the surprises that may be coming your way in terms of something needed later that was not mentioned at all.  

I have also learned to carry with me originals and copies of anything and everything when seeking gava services.  Though the Huduma staffer had just checked on two of the documents, my brown A4 size envelop had many other documents in original and copy, just in case.  This included ID original and copy, the red book original and copy, birth certificate original and copy, KRA pin certificate original and copy, job ID original and copy and my CV, just in case.  My A5 size Swahili story book was also in there.

The queue would remain stationery for long.  However, at around nine, the queue started moving and it moved quickly.  At this rate, I would be through with this process by ten.  I wore a faint smile in nostalgia.  Then the line once again just came to a standstill.  I was now about the twentieth person from the entrance.  All movements ceased and we stayed stationery.  Another staffer from the centre would at some point force us to move back in the name of keeping to social distance markings on the floor of the corridor around the building.  We continued waiting, with people getting agitated with each passing minute. 

What was really going on?  Nobody knew and nobody said.  Soon murmurs would start amongst the people on the queue. 

“Lasima ni huyo mashini,” I heard one of the two people ahead of my position say.

“Hiyo mashin ya chana?,” his colleague responded.

“Huyo mashini chana nagataa.  Aligataa mbaka watu najoka na gwenda du nyumban.”

“Chana nagua mpaya san,” the colleagues agreed.

“Chana mbaya san.  Lagin leo lasima tabata huyo lesens.”

“Nazahau saa saba pia hao nafunga na guenta lanj?”

“Na imachin mimi ni gujugua du lesens ndio nadaga!  Una panga du lain refu gujugua du lesens!,” the first speaker lamented, loudly enough for the benefit of all and sandry.

I had already gathered so much.  This registration may happen.  It may as well not happen.  I had now kept an open mind that I may be making another trip to this queue on yet another day, especially now that we were not moving at all.  That standing on the corridor and doing nothing was really tiring.

It was at 11.30am, after more than three-and-a-half hours on the queue, when I finally got through the entrance scan and security check, before getting into the centre.  I registered my name and telephone number at the reception before I was shown a seat.  The seat was about the fifteenth, each seating two people with the social distancing forcing a seat to be blank between any two people.  I was therefore on another waiting queue of over thirty people.  At least I was inside the shade of the centre and was even having a seat.  However, the seating was going to be long, at any rate.

We kept moving forward through the seats, one person at a time.  I was now in the deep of things.  There was no giving up however long it would take.  This would be the day.  Unless something drastic happened, which was still possible anyway, I was determined to stay here even upto midnight, provided I completed the process on this day.  Of course, there were no washrooms, and you either had to keep it in the pressed in the reservoirs or lose your queue position by going for the public pay washrooms two streets away.  Occasionally, you would get good queue-people who would allow you to take the ten-minute break and later rejoin the queue at your initial slot.  If you did not get such good people, then that washroom break would cost you over twenty positions back on the new queue.

I was now in the centre, though the service was painfully slow.  It seemed like the license people were the majority in the open space.  The rest of the counters with all manner of services were virtually empty.  A load balancing scheme would have solved this particular impasse, but in gava the left and right hands are very distinct, and so are differences between the fingers of the same hand.  Thirty computers would rather be unused since they do not belong to that department, while two computers are spewing dark smoke due to overuse.

As I said, I was here to stay, for as long as it would take.  Then we had a new development.  When we still had about twenty people ahead on the seats, one staffer came about and asked us to provide him with the invoice copies for those registering or ID copies for those collecting their licenses.  We gave them out and he went with them to the serving desks, which I could see just ahead.

We now just waited to be called, some to collect their DLs, other to register for the DLs.  At about 1.20pm I would be called to the counters, to participate in a process that took like a minute.  Just register name and telephone number on a sheet, followed by signature, then face a monitor-mounted camera to take a photo, followed by placing the two index fingers on the fingerprint scanner and that was it.  Get back your invoice copy and you are out!  So, why was this one-minute process taking forever?

I was moodless as I walked home from the centre, knowing very well that I would have to face another long queue in three-week’s time to collect the card.  Of course, for my troubles, I did miss my Friday run even as I took my missed breakfast at two o’clock.

WWB, the Coach, Eldy, 5-Sep-2020

You can predict the weather everywhere else …

You can predict the weather everywhere else …

“I give up on you, Eldy!,” I exclaimed as I watched the floor next to where I was standing progressively get wet and soon get flooded with the rain water that was running down my running gear.  I had been rained on yet again.

I had started the Monday run at 12.30pm when it was hot and shiny.  There was no semblance of clouds on the wide heavenly blue sky.  I was confident that the Friday-like rain would not fall on me on this weather.  I was still set to run on the same new, now turning to be old, route that runs from Eldy town towards Kipkenyo on the 8km mark, then back.  I had already decided on that turning point since my right knee had not improved much since Friday.

If anything, the right knee was feeling worse than it did on Friday.  I was even doubting if I would make it through the run at all.  This feeling started with the first step.  I was in total self-doubt when I got to the first kilometre mark, ready to do the right hand turn to join the tarmac to Kip-kay.  I had already reduced speed though the run was just starting.  I kept going on this slower than normal speed.  I had already decided that I would just struggle to reach the 3k mark, then turn back.

At the 3k, I decided to push myself to the brink of pain and make it to the 5k, which I did.  At that point, I then decided to push it to the 6k.  That would be it!  Just 6k, then I shall turn back.  At 6k I could easily make out the 8k turning point at Kip-kay.  Surely, there was no turning back now, when I could see the 8k just ahead.  That realization even reduced the pain on my knee, making those last two kilometres to the turning point quite fast.

I was glad to finally do the U-turn at Kipkenyo primary school.  I would now just have to run back on the same familiar route.  I kept the self-motivation going.  I had already done half the run.  I would surely finish the run.  The weather continued being hot.  The sky continued being blue without a trace of cloud.  I was glad that my Monday run would be a dry run.

The weather suddenly just changed when I was about three kilometres to the finish.  I started noticing some blackness in the distance horizon ahead, following by some flashes in those distant skies.  This observation was however so many kilometres away from here.  The weather over here remained fairly cloudless though the hot sun had now dimmed for some reason.  There was however no rain and no signs of any rain.

I kept going while the weather remained good by virtue of no sunshine but no rain or cold either.  I was also sensing that the end of the run was near.  I would be done in less than fifteen minutes.  It was still cool with clear skies when I got to the junction that marks one kilometre to the finish.  The distant horizon remained dark.  I knew that it was raining somewhere far, but nothing here.

With my finish so near, and the weather so favourable, I decided to add a twist to the run.  Instead of heading to the finish by a left-turn, I instead turned right at the junction to get to the other side of the road.  I started running onto a new tarmac road still under construction.  I was now running opposite and away from my finish line.  The weather would surely still allow me to squeeze in some extra ks.  My right knee was now well greased after over one hour of run.  I was not feeling any pain.

This decision to run far from my finish would spell the start of my troubles on this day, since I was barely five minutes into this diversion when the once distant darkness of the horizon started approaching the town.  I could see the dark signs of rain steadily approaching my run.  The once clear blue overhead skies started getting the dark cloud cover just before my very eyes.  I kept going against the approaching rain, but now with lots of doubt on the wisdom of extending this run.

I reached the end of the new tarmac and made a U-turn, just as the first drops of rains started falling.  The rain then started chasing me from behind.  I really accelerated on that new tarmac as the rain kept up the chase.  I would soon discover that my speed was no match for the rain, since it momentarily started falling heavily and the rain soon overtook me just before I hit the tarmac junction.

I was not deep in the rain.  My finish line was still one kilometre away.  I was already fully soaked though I had not even been in the rain for over two minutes.  It was heavy.   My shoes were soon completely flooded.  I was now in the thick of things.  I just had to keep going to the finish line, adding a little extra distance towards the finish now that I was already being rained on anyway.

I finished the run after 1hr 45min in the middle of the blinding rain.  The time was 2.15pm.  Then the rain just got switched off, just like that!  Before my very eyes!  It has rained for about fifteen minutes but it had mostly rained on me.  The end of the run marked the end of the rain.  The dark cloud cover would soon evaporate from the skies leaving the familiar blue azure overhead.

“I give up on Eldy!,” I exclaimed a second time as I marveled at the change of weather that was unfolding before my very eyes.  It would even shine, and brightly so, later in the day.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Aug. 31, 2020