25 on 25

25 on 25

It was not my intention to run on the day when the Christian faith was in a birthday party, but it just turned out to be.  After all, it is very long since I did a run, as ‘very long’ as nine days.  The last run was the December international marathon aka ‘the boycott version 2’.  On this date of December 16, my running team, once again, boycotted the run, after doing the same in November.  I knew that this would happen since the three regular runners had said or had done everything that they could to ensure that they missed this run…. and they did give it to me the best way that they thought fit.

Let me start with Karl.  He had peeped through my door on Thursday, a day to the run, at about 12.30pm.

“I feel like I can go a ka-tooo kooo run, maybe to tarmac.  Can we go?”

I would usually have said yes, since the tarmac run route just goes from Uthiru, through Kapenguria road all the way to the Lower Kabete road, where you do a U-turn and back.  The run is anything from ten to thirteen kilometres, depending on the tweaks that you add to it.

“But why would you be running when we have the big run tomorrow?,” I asked him even as he kept holding the door ajar.

“Kesho siko, naenda shags, Mwingi, I have something to do.”

So that is how I got the first regret over the attendance of the Friday run.  Of course I did not join him for the Thursday run.  I was not messing the international.

The second semblance of an apology came from Edu.  He had been on a daily run on this month of December for whatever reason.  Marathoners do things that are sometimes not understandable to the rest of us, marathoners and even non-marathoners.  I had met him one week prior, as we were preparing for this run.  This was during the staff party that was meant to mark the end of the year, the first such party since 2019.  Corona had put a break to gatherings and mass events since that time.  The very corona that is now technically eradicated or a live-with disease, or did I hear that it has had a resurgent from where it first started in China?  

The corona that causes COVID-19 disease, which has now infected 661.7M people globally with 6.68M deaths, hence 1% deaths of the confirmed infections.  Kenyan numbers now stand at 342,470 and 5,688 respectively.  Of course, deaths from road accidents in Kenya this year has surpassed this number.  That is why I believe that corona ended and other things took over, but let me get back to the story.

That on December ninth.  It was the end year party, when the dress code was ‘the 70s’, and Edu was adorned with an Afro wig, a waist high pair of trousers with suspenders, with others in similar for guys and girls with short short-skirts.  On this day of the end year party, when I was in a grey suit and tie – which was surely a theme dress.  If anything, I had overdone it since I was even in a pre-70s attire anyway.  I did meet Edu and we talked briefly as we picked the food and drink stamps.  He had mentioned that he would be travelling out of the city from the next week.  He did not mention anything about the marathon.  I was left to add the one-plus-one on this.  For information, that suit was in readiness of a major award, more on this upon enquiry.

Lastly, it was Beryl who did a number on me.  We had had a Wednesday evening run, just two day prior, with compulsion coming from my side, since it was my run day and she had to follow suit.  She had confirmed that she would participate in the Friday run, but not the full distance.  I had my doubts.  She has not participated in any international since the corona pandemic.  I was doubtful that she would be doing a second run, albeit even shorter, two days after this run.  I did not say as much.  It was therefore no surprise when I got a WhatsApp message on the Friday of the run that was brief and to the point, “Have a good run, we shall speak after the run.”

It was therefore a second time in less than three weeks that I was facing an international run alone and lonely.  The things that I do for the team!  The run was the usual.  From Uthiru through Kapenguria road to Lower Kabete road for a brief run, then turn to the Uni farm past Mary Leakey school, then join Kanyariri road to Kanyariri centre for the right turn all the way to the underpass on Wangige road and back straight to Uthiru.  The weather remained warm and a bit sunny.  I cleared the 24.45k in an average of 5min 00sec per km in a 1796-1935m elevation range.

I subsequently vowed not to do nothing for the team.  And took the end of year leave to prove the point.  I was relaxing and enjoying the good holiday, doing nothing, when the run bug bit me on Saturday night.  I therefore woke up early, at eight-thirty, on this Sunday and just left for the run.  I was doing this run at the home of champions, though I did not expect meet any champion on this morning.  After all, it was Christmas day, and most people were preoccupied with the day’s festivities, be it in church or in the hood.  I met lots of singing from the churches along the route.  I hardly met people on the road, even the motorbikes were relatively few on this day.

I was doing my usual circuits on one side of the Sosiani river, with Eldy town rising to its fullness on the other side of the river.  The circuit is just over 5km.  It is mostly hilly, but it is so far the only route that I could formulate, that avoids the vehicular traffic as much as possible.  Avoiding a competition with motor vehicles is one of the things that you want to do with your runs when you have an option.  I did four full loops and a conclusion run on the fifth one that did not go all the way.  I finished the run just before eleven, having covered 25.69k at an average of 5min 11sec per km.  The elevation of the run ranging from 2054m to 2104m.  I just hope that the run bug spares me and allows me to take a rest until I resume the runs officially in January week 2.

Merry Christmas!

WWB, Eldoret, Kenya, Sunday, December 25, 2022

The costly price of cheap unga

The costly price of cheap unga

I have now proved that the extra germ in my body is doing wonders.  I say this because I have broken run record after run record since that booster shot number 2 of COVID19 vaccine.  I so far have a total of four shots in the arm for this virus, three on the left and one on the right arm.  All this as global infections* of corona virus disease reaches 576,581,896 infections and 6,405,982 deaths.  Kenyan numbers are so far 337,389 and 5,672 respectively.  

*source: worldometers website

Nonetheless, corona is now virtually over and a forgotten disease.  It has been overtaken by other global problems including lack of food (grains), blamed on the Ukraine-Russia war that started mid-February.  Other issues include flooding, drought and wildfires, blamed on global warming.  Corona and COVID19 are no longer the ‘in thing’.  So, I did the 5-in-5 event last week, that is, 5-runs-in-5-days.  However, this time I did it on the longer 15-17km route on the Mary Leakey loop.  The average speeds started at 5.07 (15.4km), 5.03 (17.11km), 5.00 (17.13km), 5.01 (17.14km), 4.59 (17.14km).  Yesterday, was a Monday and I still added another run on the route getting to 4.49 (17.16km).  

All these runs were not for bragging rights, far from it.  These were experimental runs.  I was in the running lab, out there on the road, to confirm that the corona vaccinations, the booster to be specific, worked and had added an extra shot of energy in my runs.  Nonetheless, we still have a fast run, in the name of the July International marathon.  Let this run confirm that my experiment is true, as I take the body for a ‘sprinters delight’ July marathon, where runners are expected to run their fastest over the 21km distance.

However, there is no guarantee that my so far successful experiment with good runs shall continue for long.  This is because of the new global challenges which now exclude COVID19.  The cost of food stuff has been rising continually in the last two months.  While a kilo of our very lifeline staple food, unga, was retailing at 50/= hardly one-month ago, it had risen steadily and even had doubled already by last week.  In fact, it was even virtually impossible to get that maize flour at even the doubled price.  It was heading to triple, all this while, the income levels had remained the same.  This unga thing was going to be a big issue and I had even seen a news clip on Aljazeera about Kenya and the unga crisis.  Of course, that clip showed a demonstration that was taking place in the city streets where the people were protesting these very high prices of unga.

It was therefore a sigh of relief when the president just last week issued an executive order that the price of maize flour ‘be and is hereby reduced to 100/= for a 2kg packet of unga, in the whole territory of the republic of Kenya with immediate effect’.  That was a big announcement.  It was a life changer.  We would at least start eating.  I was getting tired of starving on rice and other starches.

I visited my local supermarket that is just in front of my living quarters last week, a day after the announcement, and was not surprised to find no packet of maize flour that was retailing at the new prices.  The cheapest 2kg packet was still selling at 206/=.  I gave it an ‘ignore’ and believed that there must have been some ‘clearing of old stocks’ thing going on first.  I visited the same supermarket over the weekend and the situation was the same – same old prices, no new prices.  I even visited an outlet of a major, sorry, the major supermarket chain in Kenya, at Adams Arcade same weekend and as sure as there is global warming, there was no cheap unga!  All branded packets were retailing at over 200/= per 2kg pack.

What is going on?  How can the big boss of the whole country give a decree, and no one obeys him?  It was just yesterday that someone whispered to me that he had seen cheap unga somewhere in Kangemi.  I took it upon myself to check this out and went to a supermart branded ‘friendly’.  I was surprised to see an advert for 2kg pack for 100/= placed somewhere outside the store and for sure when I went in, I did get the cheap unga available.  What a relief!

I picked some five packets and was just about to make my way to the cashier when some supermarket attendant called me back and beckoned me to the unga section of the store.  I assumed that he wanted to persuade me to buy some more.

“Ni mbili tu,” he said.

It took me some interpretation to decipher what he was saying.

“Nini mbili?”

“Unga ni mbili tu.  Kastoma wanachukua mbili tu”

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 26, 2022

Booster vaccines boosts the run – the truth is out

Booster vaccines boosts the run – the truth is out

Yesterday was another runday Monday.  My first run in over one week.  The first run since that corona booster vaccine of last week.  The weather has been cold and unforgiving most of this month.  I have used the weather as the excuse of not going out there.  However, the run finally called me to action yesterday.  I first of all realized that we shall be having the July International marathon just next week, on July 29.  That meant that I needed to start my preps.  

Secondly, being out of the road for over a week is not recommended.  It is just a very long ‘time out’ by any definition.  The only time I have taken a week or more out of the run has been during the long holidays in December, when I go back to my roots and spend the endless days doing nothing, just savouring the good weather under the mango tree.  It is not yet December for those who may not have checked, hence I am not yet entitled to an ‘under the mango tree’ moment.

So, I get out of the warm office on this Monday and immediately gets hit by the cold mid-day weather.  I get almost frozen out before I even make the first few steps of the run.  I encourage myself on, saying that what must be done must be done.  I convince myself that the weather shall improve with time, or the body shall adapt to the cold with time.  I keep running and none of these two wishes come true.  It remains cold and the body fails to adapt.  I can feel the cold.  No wind, just cold.

I would usually have done a 10km run on Kapenguria road to Lower Kabete tarmac junction as the turnback point then back, but that did not happen yesterday.  I instead found myself going to Mary Leakey route, which is not a route that you would usually do over the lunch hour, since it is at least 13k.  It is difficult to fit 13k of hills into the one-hour lunch hour break, but sometimes you have to push the body to limits that you would otherwise not.  This was one of those lunch hours to keep pushing.

I have been to this Mary Leakey route for many years, and I was not expecting any surprises.  I was just worrying about the uphill towards Ndumboini on my way back after exiting from the University farm at the tank and turning to my left back to Ndumboini.  If only someone, I do not know who, could remove that hill!

Anyway, I was on the 10k mark when I started on that uphill that would end on the 11k mark.  From there it was just a turnback across Waiyaki Way and back to Kabete Poly to head towards the finish of the run in less than 10-minutes.  The run ended with an average of 5.07min per k on a 15.4km distance.  That was probably the fastest I have managed on that route maybe forever since this is not a usual run route.  The tweaks, including the 21k version curved out of this, is like the norm.

Today was not a runday Tuesday.  If anything, I had already taken a heavy lunch and was not set for any run.  I would usually do an evening run-walk upon being booked by a student of run.  I had not been booked and I therefore was not intending to do any runs on this Tuesday.  However, as it would turn out to be, I just decided to get out of the warm office at four, changed into the run gear, then was off for yet another run on the Mary Leakey route.  The evening run experience was just similar to yesterday’s in terms of the weather – cold and chilly.  

I was now even having a last minute decision to have a 5-runs-in-5-days challenge, though it had not been sanctioned by the MOE yet.  After all, last month this 5-in-5 happened just a week to the international run.  This is also the week before the July international.  I am nonetheless not sure if I shall have the willpower to do another 3 runs in the week, especially now that I am doing the longer versions of run.  But the speed on this Tuesday run was now even improved to 5.03mpk on a 17.11km distance.

Now, the only variable that I can attribute to these improved speeds is…. yes, you guessed it…. the COVID19 booster vaccine of last week.  That shot has boosted me in more ways than one.  I am now faster, based on a sample size of two runs out of two.  The booster that is meant to prevent severe illness and hospitalization from corona virus disease (COVID) is just the thing that probably all marathoners need!  The very corona virus that has infected* 569,036,399 people in the planet resulting into 6,390,296 deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 336,904 and 5,668 respectively.  Wait till I do the July international marathon codenamed ‘Sprinters delight’ when runners should do their fastest runs, and you shall prove my ‘boosted’ theory.  Free advice – Take a booster shot, it helps!

*worldometers website

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 19, 2022

Will vaccination ever end? Of booster vaccine 4... and 5

Will vaccination ever end?  Of booster vaccine 4... and 5

It was almost 12.25pm when I saw the missed call from Edu.  I had kept the phone in the pocket of my coat that was hanging on my seat and did not hear it vibralert me of his incoming call.  I immediately knew what it was all about.  It was another ‘runday Wednesday’ and I was being called to action.

However, this was not to be.  I was just ‘recovering’ from the very painless corona vaccination on the left arm this time round, after that right arm fiasco of January.  I had enquired before sitting on that chair, facing the small refrigerated container.  This had been placed on a table just in front of the seating position in the small makeshift booth.  This booth had been curved out of a large normally open meeting room, to create some privacy.

“My last vaccination was on January twenty-six,” I started, querying the nurse when the traffic had gone down after a three-hour event, “Am I really due for a booster?”

“Yes, it is already twenty-four weeks since that time,” the nurse responded confidently.

It was not for nothing that I was making the query.  I had been participating in the data entry process since morning, where we update the details of those vaccinated.  I had encountered two cases that called to question this 6-month duration, as far as the registration system was concerned.  One staff had added 6-months to the January 24 date and just told me on my face that he would be waiting for his booster shot after July 24.  Another January-case staff had stubbornly got the booster shot and was stopped on his track when the system refused to register the vaccination, giving a ‘not yet due date’ error.

So, finally, I sat there just before the 12.30pm break and endured the most painless injection this year.  Even the January one had some cold feeling on the arm, but this one, nada.  I wondered why some adults had to be held down to receive this baby needle on the arm.  There were even two loud shouts of pain within the day.  

Anyway, people are different and there is no right (or wrong) way to react to a piece of one-inch-long stainless-steel needle when it burrows itself below the skin.  The update of the system, in my case, did not give any error and soon I could see a second entry on the vaccination certificate, indicating a ‘booster’ of Pfizer.  The certificate that started with a single entry of AstraZeneca just last year, had now grown into 4 entries.

At this rate, we shall soon be walking around with a booklet that shall be keeping track of the many vaccination shots that we are likely to be having due to this corona thing.  The very corona which forced me to fail to do my customary Wednesday run, despite the day having the first sunny weather in a week.  It has been as cold as ice.  The very same corona that causes that dreaded COVID19 disease which had continued to plague the globe with 563,311,932 cases and 6,377,278 deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 336,053 and 5,668 respectively*.  All these in just 2-years.

*source: worldometers website

Of course, we did not have very kind words for corona during the lunch break, with the team of fellow members of the logistics team that had helped out in the camp.  For the umpteenth time I was reminded that corona was a hoax.

“Which disease spares young ones and only attacks the adults?”

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, July 13, 2022

5 runs in 5 days challenge – Day 1 of 5

5 runs in 5 days challenge – Day 1 of 5

I knew that it would be a tough week when the MOE* introduced the 5-runs-in-5-days challenge.  The email notification was direct and to the point, “This week’s challenge is the 5-runs-in-5-days starting today, and daily, until Friday”

*MOE = marathoners of expert, the committee that organizes the run events

“What is wrong with the MOE,” I heard a colleague marathoner asking soon after the email was sent around ten in the morning on this downcast Monday, June 13.

“What about?,” I queried.

“Imagine, they have set a 5-day run without notice!  They want to kill us before next week’s marathon, or something!?”

“Must be ‘or something’,” I responded.

I knew, being part of the MOE, that this was a last-minute surprise that was meant to invigorate the group that has been quite low since the COVID19 hiatus that started March 2020.  Worldwide corona virus related deaths were virtually zero at that point in time.  Two years and three months later and the global* death toll has now reached 6,332,729 from 541,127,668 confirmed infections, hence a death rate of 1.2%.  Kenya numbers were now standing at 5,651 and 327,145 respectively, hence a mortality rate of 1.7%.

*source: worldometers website

However, many things had happened since that fateful March 13, 2020 date when Kenya was put on a corona lockdown.  We now have at least four approved COVID19 vaccines in use worldwide, out of which the country has benefited from many free doses.  Mass vaccination has majorly put a halt to corona.  We no longer put on masks.  Social distancing is a vocabulary nearly forgotten and is likely to slip out of our normal lingua.  We no longer ‘gota’ to greet.  We have gone back to real handshakes.  I do not even remember the last time that I saw or used a hand sanitizer!

So, the MOE we just sprucing up things by throwing in this 5-day challenge at no notice.  It has never been done before, but the time was right.  The deal was made sweeter by the stipulation that ‘the distance did not matter’.  It was therefore a doable thing.

I knew that the first, second and fourth runs would be the most difficult.  The first run occurs when the body is coming from some restful period.  In my case I had not been on the road for a run since last Tuesday.  Seven days of no run would make run day number 1 a difficult one.  Number 2 run is usually difficult due to the pain of the first run.  The fourth run comes at a time when you do not want to let yourself down as you gear up for the final.  That anxiety can cause you to miss that run number 4.  The final run is just pure adrenaline.  It is the final and you must just do it.

The first run lived to its expectations.  The day was cold, if anything, chilly.  There had been no ray of sun from the early morning, if anything, it drizzled.  I was lethargic from a long rest period.  I however found myself at the locker room ready for the run.  I had already decided that the challenge shall all be run on the Uthiru-Kabete Poly-Ndumboini-Wangari Maathai-Kapenguria road-river-tarmac and back circuit.  That would give me at least a 10k per day.  That was a doable daily distance, hopefully.

I started the run at 12.45pm.  It turned out to be a cold run on a 12.6km course, over the lunch hour in 1:06:27.  I finished the run without a sweat, just due to the sheer intensity of the cold weather.  That does not mean that I was having it easy.  Far from it.  I was tired, thirsty, and hungry.  I however knew that the real test would be on the Tuesday run, the number 2 run.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, June 15, 2022

The first marathon since Corona – when the unexpected happens

The first marathon since Corona – when the unexpected happens

The last time we held our regular monthly international marathons was in March 2020 – yes, March 2020.  And even at that time the corona thing almost cancelled that run.  The monthly runs over the 21k distance had by then become a permanent event in our marathoners’ calendar.  It was consistent, it was anticipated, it was a crowd puller, and it was the only talk in our marathoners’ groups.

It was therefore a real relief when the MOE* finally agreed to arrange for the first marathon after corona break.  This run was to the next one that follows the last run held in March, being the April run, albeit April 2022 – 24-months later!

*marathoners of expert – the organizers of the event

However, many things had changed in the 24-months hiatus.  While putting on masks, social distancing, handwashing, sanitizing, curfews, working from home and fear of the unknown had been the language since 2020 towards 2021, the tone had changed to vaccination and return to normal, from late 2021.  By January 2022 the country and most of the world had lifted the mask mandate and rescinded most COVID-19 restrictions.  Working from home had ended and life back to the office had become the norm.  

The world had evolved from 537,042 infections and 24,110 deaths as at March 27, 2020 to 513,670,092 infections and 6,262,095 deaths as at May 2, 2022.  Kenyan numbers were now 323,295 and 5,649 respectively*.  This was a global 1,000 fold increase in infections and 260 times increase in deaths in that 2-year period.  However, the end had now come, with vaccinations, medications and therapeutics halting corona on its heels.  We had moved from calling corona ‘the thing’ (TT) in low toned whispers, to calling it by name and fearing nothing!

*source: worldometers

It therefore did not come as a surprise when the MOE decided to hold the first international marathon of 2022 in the month of April and set the date of the run for the last Friday, as has been the tradition.  The date of Friday April 29 was therefore communicated as the day of the marathon and the runners were asked to start preparing for this inaugural run.  I made this big announcement on April 11.  The organizers were however cognizant that the runners may not be ready for this, having had no serious run in two years, but we had to start somewhere.

I talked to three veteran runners and got their buy in, just to ensure that we could deal with a worst-case scenario where no one turns up.  They all committed to participating in the run.  The month however had many unknowns that would unfold from that date.  To start with, the unexpected would happen, when the former president of the republic of Kenya, Mwai Kibaki passed on on Friday, April 21, hardly one week to our marathon.  It was not long before the Friday when we were to have the marathon was declared a public holiday.

We usually leverage on the fact that we have staff on duty to raise the numbers for the marathon.  That is why we hold the runs on a working day.  A run during a public holiday, when the staff are not on duty, would not be tenable.  We therefore made a last-minute decision, hardly three days to the marathon, that we were rescheduling the run.  The options that we considered were to keep the Friday date, to move the run to the next week or to cancel the run altogether and wait for the next one in May.  

We decided to reschedule it to Thursday, April 28, one day earlier than planned.  It was on the same date of rescheduling that I was got confirmation that two of the three veteran runners were also cancelling their participation due to other engagements.  That meant that the B-and-B team, a persistent pair of runners from pre-corona days, was not getting back in this run.  However, one B was doing this run whatever happens.

The new Thursday date still had its challenges.  We were coming up for a long weekend, with Friday being the day of national mourning, while the Monday of May 2 would also be a holiday that extends Labour day.  It became even more complicated when Tuesday was declared a holiday as Eid-Al-Fitir, to mark the Islamic end of Ramadhan period.  We were facing a 5-day long weekend.  Our runners were likely to be on a holiday mood, than on a running mood come the run-day Thursday.

I however kept hope alive and was still confident of a successful first group run of the year.  I still had one firmed up confirmation for the 21k.  Thursday was it.

The rain started around ten o’clock on the night of Wednesday.  It was still raining when I woke up the next morning at seven, ready for the 1.4km walk to the work place.  The rain continued the whole morning on the run-day Thursday.  It was still drizzling by two in the afternoon.  For all intents and purposes, this run was technically headed for a cancellation.  We could not risk allowing our runners to be out there through the rains.  It was now two hours to the 4pm start time of the 21km run and the rains were not relenting.

We had one other last minute decision to make.  The 21km route, as originally formulated, has a section of about 1.5km through the university farm that is usually impassibly muddy during the rains.  We had not anticipated any rains when formulating the route and had included this section on our map.  We now had to revise the route, hardly 2-hours before the run, to exclude this section.  I was back on Google map to reformulate the route and share with the runners while they still had time to consider the change.

And just like that, the rain stopped, and the sun came up.  This happened at 3.00pm, just one hour to the start of the run.  The run that was surely under cancellation was now back on, on a revised route.

When Edward and I started the run at 4.15pm, I was already about 2km deep into my own run.  This is because I had left the locker room at 3.56pm to the Generator starting point but did not find Edu.  I assumed that he must be waiting at the gate, since the revised route was to start at the gate.  I therefore ran to the gate but still did not find him there.  I tried his phone, but this was futile, since I knew that he does not go running with his phone.  I informed the guards to ask Edu to wait for me, should he come by in my absence, since I had already decided to go back to the Generator once again to see if he was there.  I got to the generator at 4.13pm and found him there waiting.

“Did you see the new route?,” I asked, wondering why we should be starting at the Generator.

“Yes, I did, but it is so tough, that we should just do the original route.”

“But the Uni farm shall be muddy and impassible?”

“Better that, than coming back Wangari Maathai hill”

We therefore reverted to the original route that started at the Generator and off we went.  It was an easy run.  It is a route that I have been to many times, over that distance, including earlier in the month.  This is the usual Uthiru to Kabete Polytechnic, then cross the Waiyaki way to Ndumboini.  From there we were to run down Kapenguria road past Wangari Maathai Institute, all the way to Lower Kabete road.  We would then turn left and run about one kilometre to then turn left towards Mary Leakey school, then the University farm, then emerge at the tank to get to Kanyariri tarmac.  We would then turn right on the tarmac and run to Kanyariri centre for another right all the way to the Gitaru-Wangire road junction, then do a U-turn to run back to Uthiru.  I did not expect any surprises, but… spoke too soon!

When we go to the Uni farm section we were met with our worst fears.  The route did not disappoint!  It was impassably muddy!  I had to reduce my run to a walking pace to enable me traverse most of the sections.  I almost slipped and fell at some of the sections.  Edu was somewhere behind as I could decipher his footsteps in the quietness of the farm section.

We finally emerged at the tank and joined Kanyariri road tarmac.  It was then a smooth run all the way to Gitaru-Wangige underpass where we did our U-turn on the 13k mark, and then ran back all the way to our starting point at the Generator.  I stopped my timer with a reading of 24.03km in 2:36:43.  The first IKM International marathon, the very first group run of 2022, was now done.  We had proved that it was possible to resume our marathons, despite the various hiccups that came our way. 

WWB, the coach, Nairobi, Kenya, May 2, 2022

End of corona? Really!

End of corona? Really!

I had decided to take a day off work and was just indoors on this Friday, yesterday.  To say that I was doing nothing on this rest day would be an understatement.  I was calculating voltage drops and lengths of electrical cables for a project that is now occupying my time, which should make me a titled man someday, but more on that anecdote later.

The quietness of the house was unmistakable on this Friday.  You could hear a pin drop.  I would occasionally make out some sounds like the house girls around the block doing a jig or two outside the corridor of this first floor apartment.  That laughter and a collection of muffled sounds would soon end and the eerie silence would be back.

The sounds of the engines of motorbikes that would otherwise disturb the peace of the day were unmistakably missing.  I had earlier in the morning passed by the supermarket that is just on my doorstep and had heard an inkling of why this was so.

“Kim anapishana na makarau,” a lady attendant was telling one of the gents who does packing of items in that mart.

“Kwani?,” the guy had gestured, looking in her direction, and momentarily looking through the entrance.

“Wanataka kachukua nduthi yake, na ana waambia haana!,” she updated him, loudly, for the benefit.

“Uongo!”

“Si unajua Kim ameficha nduthi, ndio ana waambia haana!”

This story hit home immediately.  You must be a non-Kenyan resident or citizen to fail to know that motorbikes have had a bad week.  It started by a video clip that made rounds online four days after the fact.  The video shows a short fifteen second clip of some lady screaming while strapped on a car seat, while a mob is tearing into her car, keys and self.  It was ugly!

An explanation note on the Twitter message that accompanied the video indicated that motorbike mobs were molesting the lady for having knocked one of their own, and attempting to flee the scene at Forest road in Nairobi.  The video had caused a national outcry, especially that it was emerging on International Women’s Day, and going against the very grain of the celebrations of the spirit of equality and dignity.  Even the president of the republic made reference to that video during his address on the IWD day… and that is when trouble started for the motorbike people.

A national swoop was initiated and the mob of motorbike operators were reminded to comply with rules that they had largely ignored in every attempt to enforce them in the past.  The rules include asking them to be registered in savings and credit cooperatives (SACCO), having reflector jackets with the group’s name and generally being on self-regulation.  These were best practice rules, but they had since caused a strike by the motorbike operators, a blockage of Thika road by the same mob… and had even caused this crackdown on all motorbikes that were non-compliant.

Now I knew why the motorbike noises were missing from the air.  The environment was so cool for my ‘vee equals ai ar’ calculations… until three, when another stir of excitement disturbed the quiet afternoon.  I could hear the block-folks talk animatedly from somewhere outside the house, possibly on the verandah or the wide parking yard downstairs.

“Imagine hakuna cha mask tena!  Ayi, nilikuwa nimechoka!,” some loudmouth said.  I was two closed doors away, but the statement did permeate.

“Aki Gresi usinikumbushe!  Hakuna cha masks tena!  Gava ime abolish hiyo mambo Gresi!”

“Joan, Hata sijui nifanyaje ku-celebrate!”

Wait the hech a minute!  What is this excitement all about?  No more masking, did they say?

Only one way to find out.  A few clicks on the keyboard and it turned out to be true that the Government of Kenya had (finally) officially revoked the requirement for putting on masks at public places.  People were now free to operate without masks at all public places without fear (or favour) of being arrested.

But wait again, for another minute!  Hadn’t they made this very announcement already? No, they hadn’t.  The last excitement was the abolition of the ten to four curfew in October 2021, but that same abolition did away with masking, didn’t it?  I am sure it did, since from that day corona ended and masking became optional, largely ignored and was more of the exception than the norm.

So, the announcement that it had finally been dropped did not even make a difference nor sense.  This is something that had already been dropped five months ago.  It was just being formalized now.  And is corona even a thing anymore?  465,132,541 infections and 6,060,378 deaths* later and this pandemic has generally turned into an epidemic that we just have to live with.  Kenya has decided to make this live-with-it decision when the numbers are 323171 and 5644 respectively.  Thank the vaccines for that, or what else can we attribute this to?

*source: worldometers

It could be that our focus has moved on to other things.  Maybe it was even the Ukraine war that started ten days ago that made corona lose its glory.  The war that start when Russia promised not to invade, but still did.  This bluff caught the world unawares.  I was one of the people who took the view that invading Ukraine made no sense and hence it could not be possible.  I woke up ten days ago and the pictures on AJZ were clear, as Russian tanks started infiltrating the Ukrainian borders from the south, east and north – the very places where Russia had been conducting military drills, which was now being turned into a practical.

This event put corona on the ‘can wait’ tray, as the world was caught off guard with an impossible situation.  The only thing that was on the table was imposition of sanctions since directly attacking Russia had not been contemplated.  However, just like invading Ukraine did not make sense, something else that does not make sense at the moment can just happen and it becomes – what shall be shall be.

So, as we celebrate the end of corona, forced by other issues that are taking centre stage, let us try to make sense of everything that is happening, if this is even possible.  While at it, make sense of this one – I participated in a democratic election today, where we had to pick one of two candidates… and the votes were 101 against 100.  How democratic can that be?  If you think that is democratic, then you have not heard about the other one that I participated in earlier in the week.  That one had someone with 250 votes being dropped in favour of another with 200 votes – so as to comply with a regional balancing clause.  How is that even possible?  I told you – things no longer make sense.  Live with it!

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, March 12, 2022

Running into a booster in the wrong right arm

Running into a booster in the wrong right arm

It is exactly one week since this happened.  I have tried to avoid telling the story so that I avoid having egg on my face, but the story is just too compelling to let go, so here goes…

Last week on such a Wednesday I knew that I would be getting a corona booster vaccination shot.  This had been made optional to the staff though it has been ‘highly recommended’ provided one had met the boosting conditions.  These conditions were few – basically the last full vaccination shot must have been 6-months prior.  My last one was in July, so I was qualified.  Being a vaccination day, there was no discrimination on whether one was getting a first, second or booster.  It is only the booster that had that stringent 6-month caveat.

Coincidentally, and for purposes of raking in the numbers, we also had a blood/serological camp, where anyone could volunteer to provide blood sample for purposes of testing their antibody response to corona.  Such tests would then confirm prior exposure to the virus and even details as to the effectiveness of the vaccine on the body, including whether the activeness of the vaccine (N-protein levels) was waning over time.

The first twist to this combined camp was that those already vaccinated on that day could not undergo the serology.  That meant that serology had to come first before the vaccination.  I saw a red light just there on how these two camps that were set at the same location would be managed.  Some were coming for one of the two camps, while other staff were coming for both.  The vaccination was a morning only affair, while the blood thing was full day.  The serology involves being taken through a ten-minute questionnaire session, while the vaccination was just a walk-in-walk-out setting.  This combined camp was going to challenge the very core of logistics, patience and perseverance.

I had to do careful calculations to ensure that I attended both.  I needed the blood works since I had travelled to Western Kenya in December and my exposure level to the population in the travels and while there was a bit higher than I would usually encounter.  I could have been exposed to the virus in that sojourn, though I had not felt the effects at all at any point in time.  The closest that I got to feeling ‘virused’ was when I got a chocking cough for about five minutes around January 10, a week after I had come back to the city.  This episode was quickly forgotten and there has never been any other feeling to make be believe I have or have had corona.  But you never know, the double dose of Asta-Zeneca has maybe been my saving grace!  I needed the bloodwork, I told you! The results of previous such works had confirmed no exposure since I took the first such test in July.

I was also a volunteer at the vaccination camp even as I sought this serology thing.  That meant that I had to first deal with the bloodwork then be free to assist in pre-registration of those coming for the vaccinations, then update their records thereafter.  I knew that this day would be different and even easier to manage.  Afterall, I was confident that the online pre-registration of those being vaccinated would make the process seamless.  However, that is not what happened…..

I stayed for over 30-minutes at the serology tent, where they were asking me for the fifth time in monthly intervals the selfsame questions that they had asked before.  Why can’t they develop an online form where I can answer these questions for myself?  Do they trust the interviewer more than the interviewee?

“Have you travelled out of Nairobi for the last one month?”

“Yes”

“Where to?”

I answered

“For how long?”

I answered.

“How many people on average did you interact with?”

For crying out loud!  When will private life become private?

Anyway, l eventually got through and donated my blood for science.  It was just about nine-thirty.  The queue to the serology tent was already long.  The three tents housing those coming for vaccination were also full.  I also had to get myself in the vaccination booth first, if I was to eventually take a seat and do the vaccinee registrations that was soon going to hit us, judging by the number of those seated and waiting.

I got into the vaccination booth and found the nurse and the data person taking tea.  They were gearing up to start.  We are used to having two nurses during such events.  Today there was only one.  I know that the vaccination throughput is usually fast when the process starts, but having only one nurse for this already big population was an overkill.

“I want to the first person getting the shot so that I can move on with registration work,” I told the lady and gent at the tea table.  Those were faces that I had met in the past vaccination camps.  We had some level of familiarity.

“Let me finish the tea, then we can start,” the lady responded, “I just have to mix the vaccines first.”

New info!  The mixing.  Or whatever that meant.  In another five minutes the mix was done, after I had indicated that I was a double AZ vaccinee, to which I she told me that Pfizer Biontech was the boost that I was to get as recommended by the GOK MOH.

I sat next to the vaccination kits on the table spaced at the middle of the booth.  I could see the tea table at the extreme end of the tent.  On my left was the exit position of this square booth.  I had already removed my coat as I knew the procedure as it has become.  I unrolled the sleeve and looked aside as I momentarily felt a prick on the upper arm, then a pressing of a cotton swab on the same place.  The swab was immediately removed and thrown into a medical bin, together with the ‘sharps’ of the syringe and associated items.

“Done, we are now ready to start, you may call them in,” she gestured me out.

I put back my coat and got my laptop from the side table in that booth and walked out.  I left the queue management to another volunteer as I quickly went to one of the four big tents to setup my computer station.  I knew that very soon we would be having an influx of those already vaccinated and in need of an update on the computer system.

I logged into the system and was ready to get the ball rolling.  Obeying the principles of separation of duties, I asked one of my three colleagues to update my vaccination record on her system, promising to return the favour when her time came.

“Your ID number?”

I told her on the next desk

“The vaccination taken?”

“Pfizer”

“Let me see, there are three listed, which one was it?”

I remember being careful to confirm the vaccine batch number when I finished my shot.  The batch would usually be the same for the whole camp setup of the day.

“The middle one on the list, the one starting with N”

“Oh, I see,” she responded, “How about body temperature?”

I remembered that figure from the blood tent, where you also get your vitals taken.

“Done!”

I knew that very soon I would be the one asking people these questions, and it did not take long, since I was soon registering the first, and second and third… and tenth, and eleventh… and thirtieth, and thirty-first… and sixtieth vaccinee on the system.  They were just so many coming for post-registration.  The pre-registration done that we had already filled in two days prior having turned out to be a non-starter hoax!  What a waste of our computing resources and time!  It remained a busy day until at some point I was updating the CEO himself on the system having taking his booster.

We took a lunch break and wrapped up with the last ten or so after the lunch break, upon which time the nurses, who were now two, and the data person from the MOH closed camp and left.  The serology camp continued in the afternoon though our data entry team had already left the ghost tents in the middle of the field.  We had taken one step towards slaying corona, despite the worldwide numbers* being 384M and 5.7M deaths, with Kenyan numbers being 321,671 and 5,593 respectively.

*source: worldometers

I woke up the next day with a pain on my right top arm, just near the shoulder.  I could feel the unmistakable sensation of a needle prick on that right arm.

“Oh emm geee!,” I woke up shouting to myself.  I had been vaccinated on the wrong hand!

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Wednesday, Feb. 2, 2022

New Year? Really!

New Year?  Really!

It is just yesterday, in the early hours, that I heard that customary shout…

“Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year!”

It was all over the air.  Out there.  I could hear the sound of fireworks.  I could hear some random noises.  Some shouts here and there.  It was late night, but the darkness of the night could not keep the folks quiet out there.  

That was not all.  I could hear the singing.  The music.  The preaching!  It was all there.  In the dead of the night.  So, what was going on yesterday in the dead of the night.  In the wee of the hours?  I was just on the late-night watch…. Doing nothing but watching.  I have made it my custom to take a ‘real’ holiday when times like this come.  Times like a holiday break that I was having at the moment.  A time when I do nothing… but look at the screen.  I inter-switch between the live and the recorded.  I sit on a designated seat.  In the middle of the living room and stay put for over sixteen hours.  The only break I do take is to the restroom, and then back to my seat.  

I enjoy my holidays to the max.  I get my maximum rest during such times.  I usually do not even know which day or date it is once I start the rest.  Everyday is just any day.  I just know there is day and night.  It could as well be a Sunday or a Monday.  Well, it could even be February or October for crying out loud!  When I take my holiday rest, I do take the holiday rest… doing nothing – technically, taking a rest.

So, when those noises of the wee hours erupted, I was kind-a-taken aback.  What was happening?  How can the environment, the darkness of the night, just erupt into noises and sounds of fireworks and singing and music and preaching and praying and chatter?  In the middle of the night?  I had to halt the watching.  This halt must have been on the tenth-hour of events occurring in real time, out of the expected 24-hours of watching 24.

Well, this must have been quite something.  To interrupt ‘real time’ screen time was quite something.  So, I took the break, opened the door of the second-floor apartment and stood out at the front verandah.  I could see the dim light of the streetlights just beyond the apartment block compound.  I could just make out something like a firework in the horizon of the Eldoret town.  There was nothing else visible in the dark, just some flashes in the sky, and the sounds and noises that whiffed through the darkness and stillness of the midnight.

I got back to my seat and unpaused.  I was re-immersed into the real time on screen and life continued.

That was just yesterday.  It is now a new day.  It is today.  It is a Sunday, so they say, since from my seat it could as well be any day of the week.  It is January – another thing said, which may be true or not.  Tomorrow, I am told, schools reopen, same as offices and the rest of businesses for something called the start of the year in the month of January.  Then we shall count another twelve months of anticipation and waiting, to finally get to another such noisy night like yesterday.  Another day like yesterday, when we make resolutions on what we want to happen, simply because it is a new year.  What would happen if we made that resolution say in June?  Will it change the happening of the resolution?  What is this new year obsession thing?

I am now seated over the eighteenth episode, determined to get to 24 by the end of the day as I wonder what is the obsession that we as humanity have with this New Year Day thing?  Let me disclaim that I have nothing against celebrating the New Year.  Go ahead do it.  Enjoy to the max!  I would celebrate myself if I got to know when it was and was convinced that that was the real start of a new year.  Therefore, please, celebrate New Year as you deem fit.  Who doesn’t like a good celebration, even if it is just once in year?  I am not against anyone celebrating.  Just do it.  I am just wondering aloud why this is such a big deal and a big day, than say today?  Don’t the different days all have 24… I mean 24 hours?

Let me even disclose that I was an annual new year celebrant.  During my primary and secondary school days I did participate in New Year celebrations on the date, on the day!  Life at the rural areas did not allow us to celebrate in the midnight as it is done in the urban areas.  At shags we could not afford to light the midnight oil.  We should have gone to bed by eight to conserve the kerosene in the lamps.  Nights were (and still are) quiet and still.  No noises are made in the night.  The night is for quietness and darkness.  Nothing should interfere with those two whatsoever.  That meant that we would celebrate the new year on the new year day morning.  We would start with an early morning congregation at the local church, followed by loud resolutions of what the new year should bring forth.  Then we would move from homestead to homestead just feasting and reminding all that we had made resolutions.  Good old days, but unfortunately, New Year is no more!

Anyway, let me not keep you guessing for long.  I will go ahead and tell you when New Year ended.  New Year ended in 2020 when a virus called corona virus hit the world and people started suffering from the disease caused by that virus.  This disease, called COVID19, has since become the defining moment for the human race.  It has caused closures, shutdowns, curfews, lockdowns and everything bad.  It was led to cancellation of events, days and dates.  The 2020 Olympic games were even held in 2021 for crying out loud!  With all that disruption of events as we know them, do you really believe that we still have New Year?  With 290,054,489 infected* with the virus in the world and 5,459,176 dead?  5,384 of which are dead in Kenya? 

*source worldometers website

Have yourselves a Happy New Year 2022.

WWB, the Coach, Eldoret, Kenya, Jan. 2, 2022

A birthday run that never was

A birthday run that never was

If there is a time that I thought I had COVID, and specifically Omicron variant, then that time was last week Friday.  COVID due to the symptoms and that particular variant due to the fast progression of the symptoms.  I had started feeling the signs of a common cold on the Thursday but had not taken any second thought of it.  However, on Friday the symptoms had multiplied ten times in less than a 24-hour cycle.  My throat was sore, and my body was weak.  However, I was not having a running nose nor a fever – just the urge to clear the throat and feeling tired for no reason.

Had it not been for the evening meeting that I had no power to cancel, I would surely have taken an early break and taken a bedrest.  I nonetheless persevered through the evening meeting that was to run from six to seven on that Friday and was glad when it eventually came to an end.  I had struggled to stay online and pretended to concentrate, but my body was telling me otherwise.  I needed a rest.

I was still contemplating on how to drag myself home when the meeting ends when there was a knock on the office door.  I suspected that it must be the sentry checking on who was still in office to alert them to lock-up the block as they leave.  I was however getting irritated.  I think that people get unnecessarily irritated when they need a rest.  I had previously told the guard that he did not need to keep reminding me to lock up.  I would do that automatically if I was the last person leaving.  I therefore did not know why he was still insisting on reminding me.

“Come in,” I said and continued conversing with the computer screen, counting the last fifteen-minutes of the evening meeting.  I could not wait to get it done with.

The door remained closed.

Another knock.

“Come right in!,” I raised my voice.  I was not going to answer that door in case nothing happens after this.

The door creaked open.  I was still concentrating on the screen.  I expected the guy.

“Happy birthday!,” I voice shouted from the now opened door.

“Happy what?,” I reacted, slowly turning my gaze from screen to door.

“Daktari, what did you say?,” I heard a participant on the Google Meet event ask.  I had already cautioned that participant that I was not yet a Daktari but he refused to live in the now.  He lived in the ‘by faith’.  I had told him that the ‘Doc’ thing would be happening next year, but I was manifesting it now.

I had to mute the online meeting first, to absorb what was going on.  Into the room matched in the young runner, Atieno, with a big white box at hand.  She proceeded to lay it on the desktop.  That box did not need any imagination to figure out the content.  She laid a Club soda besides it, the two-litre version.

“Have a seat while I get this meeting done with,” I motioned.

The meeting was done by seven.  I was back to the reality of the situation.  It was December 17.  

“You know it is your birthday, right?,” the architect in training said once I had closed the online meeting.

“Oh, how can I forget,” I lied.

I did not know that adults still had birthdays.  I have associated birthdays with the young ones and any other person.  I was still wondering how this birthday event even came about.  Unfortunately, my body was still weak and my throat could not partake of that soda, nor did I have an appetite for food, leave alone cake.  This birthday would have to be postponed.  I just needed a rest.

I tossed and turned and tossed and turned on that night.  I had a fever.  Covering up with three blankets did not even work.  I still shivered and felt cold.  I feared that I had been infected with the corona virus, though when I woke up to reality of the Saturday morning, I was a bit better.  The chills had gone, and the sore throat had gone down.  My remedy had just been hot water laced with lemon, masala and honey.  It seemed to have worked.

But I still had some last minute COVID jitters to contend with….

“I am not reporting for duty.  I have a bad cold.  I suspect I have COVID.  I am going for a test today.”

That short text beeped on my phone at around eleven on Saturday.  A colleague who was to be on duty on this Saturday was cancelling.  We had discussed so many projects the previous day in the small office.  If she was suspecting that she was having the corona virus, then…..

Anyway, I kept getting better, masala and honey at hand, and was surely back to normal by Sunday.  My method of recovery has always been to identify the onset of the flu before it hits, and then take it down with some honey.  This modus operandi enabled me to have less than two-days of downtime whenever the flu hits.  That works for me but maybe not for others, since that young runner would report a flu of her own two days after that birthday surprise and be forced to seek medication in her case, incurring a bill of over 10k.

So, was it COVID?  The Omicron variant of COVID?  The very COVID that has now infected 276,724,130 people with 5,388,439 deaths globally*.  Kenyan numbers are 267,571 and 5,354 respectively.  Could it be the one?  Did that double-jab of Astra-Zeneca vaccine contribute to my low downtime or I was just having a normal flu?

*source: worldometers

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Dec. 22, 2021

Running into a taxi business with a twist... four twists

Running into a taxi business with a twist... four twists

Today I added one more view to the most viewed videos on YouTube.  I was just curious to know what makes the billion-view videos be worth their ‘B’ achievement.  It is a question that I had already asked a few members of a ‘friends’ group to contribute to not so long ago.  They had told me that such a B-viewer video needs to appeal to, or be for…. guess…. the kids!  And surely video number 1 was a kids’ video – with 9.81B + 1 from me!  It was a sobering reminder of what the innocence of the young can achieve.

But it was not long when I had another kids’ discussion, but in a different context.  That was last Saturday, just seven days ago.  I was eventually travelling from TRM on Thika Road on a taxi.  I was coming back to Uthiru after a day out, probably the first time out of my comfort zone in over a year.  Even that three hour stay in that mall had already been a too much outing based on circumstances.  You know what to blame for this situation of not going anywhere else don’t you?  Of course, corona, silly!

So, the discussion started with kids as I was seated on the taxi from TRM about seven in the evening.  The driver who had already told me to cancel the Uber request and pay the indicated amount offline was driving smoothly on the almost deserted Thika road towards Pangani.  He had already lamented that the app only benefited the app.  He had said that the drivers were hardly even getting the crumbs, since they had no say in how the fares were being set nor were they even employees of Uber.

We were discussing corona in general, and why we would soon be having another lockdown in Kenya, or even not at all.  The pros for a lockdown was due to the ‘new Omicron’ variant of corona virus, while the cons were ‘the youth’.  Omicron has just been ‘discovered’, of technically speaking, had just been ‘sequenced’ in South Africa on November 24, just ten days prior to this taxi ride.  

Of course, SA and another eight of its neighbouring countries had faced a travel ban from most Europe and Americas, hardly one-week after that sequencing activity, leading to much uproar over discrimination in how international bans were being imposed.  The argument being that the ban had been rushed, and that SA had just been forthright with scientific truth.  Keeping quiet was the alternative, and that is the alternative that many on the web were now advising SA, in hindsight, to have done, instead of speaking the truth and now being banned (plus its neighbours).

The new Omicron variant was believed to be more transmissible, though its ‘deadliness’ had not yet been determined.  Even as late as today, some three weeks later and its deadliness is not yet determined.  Nonetheless, it seems to be less deadly than other variants or than previously feared.  The corona numbers* now stand at 269,570,565 infections globally from all variants, with 5,315,126 deaths since December 2019.  Kenyan numbers are 255,932 and 5,342 respectively.  On that Saturday, as I sat on that taxi, my Uber app off, my phone also off due to lack of charge, the global numbers were 265,795,997 and 5,268,209 respectively.  

*source: worldometers

Interestingly, the infection rates had gone up on a week-by-week comparison, while the deaths had gone down in the same period in the last one week.  A new highly transmissible variant was therefore ‘in the air’ yet the death rates had gone down.  The general prevalence and case numbers were even higher in the countries imposing the ban.  A punishing ban in the southern part of Africa had come to naught.  What a contradiction!  It did not even take long before the variant was being detected globally anyway, including in places that had no links with SA at all.  The variant was already out and it was its turn to do the rounds – live with it, as we now say in these days of corona.

Back to the taxi, where my phone was about to go off due to lack of charge.  The phone that I attempted to replace hardly a week prior with little success, after the replacement phone developed a starting error forcing me to return it to the vendor, and now be reluctant to migrate from my old phone.  The young runner, Atieno, had already laughed at me even before that one-week-old phone got faulty, telling me that I could do better than an Umidigi, her words, not mine.  I had and have no love to any brand of phone.  I buy according to my money and live with it.  Anyway, with my phone almost off, I paid up the initially indicated fare on the app before I had cancelled, by MPESA.  I did not want to be reach my destination and fail to payup due to a phone that was off.

However, before we had started that corona discussion, and the pro-cons of Kenya shutting down soon, we had discussed this issue of phones going off before paying up for the taxi.  The driver, who had been on ungoverned talk since I stepped into the taxi, had volunteered his wisdom on this.  He had disclosed that some drivers can screenshot a different fare display and show it to the passenger at the end of the trip in cases where the passenger’s phone is gone off.  

It would usually need a keen eye to detect the deception, though by such a time it is likely to be too late, usually after the fact.  However, he then confessed that it was possible to report such cases to Uber for resolution and penalization of the offending driver.  This would usually lead to the reduction of the driver’s ratings and the eventual crediting of the passenger’s account with the difference in charges, ready for use during a next ride.

We discussed the joys and the ‘not-so-joys’ of being the in the taxi business.  It was now almost seven-thirty as we joined Waiyaki way from the Museum hill roundabout.  He has told me that he would be closing business after he dropped me, since it was already night.  This seemed a contradiction the expectations of the current business environment.

“But we no longer have a shutdown?  You can surely work for 24-hours!”

“I just fear the night,” he said casually.

“Must be due to bad people,” I nodded in agreement.

“Not bad people, the good people!”

This got me thinking!  Fear of the good people?  Was I missing something?  He then opened up the story telling session with the top four reasons why he feared the good people and hence would like to avoid them as much as possible.  Do not hold me to account or call me names as I state the list, his list.  I am just reporting what the driver told me.  We were now on Waiyaki way, heading to Uthiru.

Good people number 1 – the drunk girl

He said that these are the types that he picks up from some nightlife joint, already tipsy.  The girl settles on the back seat and stays restless, asking him why he is not getting to his destination quickly.  They get into the list due to what happens at payment time.

“Nipe namba ya MPESA!,” the girl says, slurring with every word.

He gives the number, taking maybe five or ten times just repeating the simple ten-digit number.

They have now arrived at the destination, but the MPESA has not yet reached the driver’s phone, who then complains about it.

“Yani, hujapata!  Hebu nipe namba ya MPESA tena!”

He says that this is the cycle that makes him avoid doing night rides.

Good people number 2 – the drunk girl no. 2

This was a particular girl, but the cab driver still gets the jitters just imagining how he got himself into this situation.  He had responded to another call for taxi and had ended up in a nightclub.  A lady approached his taxi and stood by the rear window, leaning of the boot of the car.  The next sound was that of shattering glass, as the hind window smashed through.  He got out of his seat and went out just in time to see the impression left by a drink bottle that had hit that window.  He still does not know how and why his car was smashed, but it ended well, with the girl agreeing to repay.

Good people number 3 – the guy who sleeps

This is a guy he carries from… guess… from a nightclub yes, already drunk.  He tells the driver to wake him up when they get to the destination.  Many things happen at the destination.  They start by arguing over the destination itself.  The Uber app would be showing the pin confirming that they are at the destination, while the guy on the backseat would be swearing that that was not it.

“Nirudishe penye ulinitoa!,” the drunkard would finally slur out loudly.

They usually, somehow, get the right house.  He had not returned a client in his experience.

At alighting time, the driver stops the app and presents the figure to the guy who is now just awakening from the usually deep slumber, now trying to figure out his current whereabouts.  I will never forget the gesture that the driver made at this point, as he impersonated the drunkard.  We were now just past Kabete Polytechnic, about to get to Uthiru in less than three minutes.

The taxi driver pointed ahead, and continued to say what he was told, his right index finger being wiggled towards the windscreen, “Wewe… we… we… wewe!,” he shook his finger, his tone changed, even as he kept driving with one hand.

“Unataka nikulipe mara mbili eh!  Unafikiria nimelewa!, Eh! We, wewe, we!”

That reenactment was just magical.  It was like the drunkard was in that taxi at that very moment.  I could feel him.  I could feel the driver’s shock at the turn of events.  He did not tell me how he resolved it.  I can only imagine.

Good people number 4 – the guy who does not pay

This one is a story that I have heard before.  I was even ready to tell him the story myself.  This is the guy who is dropped at an apartment block and claims to go to the house to bring back the money for the taxi charges, never to come back.  However, this was a story with a twist.

He had waited for over ten-minutes and the guy did not come back, nor did he have any idea of to which house among the many in the storied complex the guy had disappeared into.  It was in the wee hours, as wee as three in the morning.  He got his courage and alighted from the taxi.  He then approached the sentry’s cubicle at the gate and asked the watchman for help.  The watchie had been one of those who just sleeps the night away, and was now also coming out of slumber.  He had just opened the gate to let the taxi in and had resumed his sleep, not caring whether the taxi was to leave or not.

After jolting the watchie back to consciousness, he started to ask him where the person whose name he knew as James, from the casual conversations, lived.

“Ai, hapa kwa hii plot hatuna mtu anaitwa James!,” the watchie was categorical and now fully sober.

“Ule jamaa nimelete hapa saa hizi!”

“Hata sikuona umelete nani,” the watchie confessed, truthfully.

The taxi man was at a dead end.

“Pole,” I told him, “Such loss of money!”

“Not so fast,” he continued with his story.  We were now at the Uthiru roundabout.

He had proceeded to describe the guy to the watchie.  It happened that the description that he gave were spot on, since it did not take more than two minutes before the watchie had a smile in his face, “Ah, huyo anaitwa baba Angel, anakaa B6!”

He found the guy in B6 collapsed on the sofa set, with the wifey trying to revive him with some early morning bowl of hot soup, which he was not responding to!

We did not get to conclude the pros and cons of closing down the Kenyan economy, again, due to the new Omicron variant of corona.  However, just like the YouTube videos that are a hit due to young people, the country was not going to be closed due to the same young people.  If you guessed that the this is due to some young persons’ street protest or some social media anti-Gov movement by the youth, then you are wrong.  The reason is that corona has not had an effect in the schools and there is no reason to close the schools and mess up the status quo.  Life shall continue as is, as usual.

WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Dec. 11, 2021