EASTER

You would think that the habit of travelling upcountry for the holidays would be dead by now. It isn’t. I can shamelessly admit that I am one of those who will pack up and travel to shags for Easter and Christmas as well. So as is the norm, I travelled home this past Easter. Please do not mistake me for those fellas who load up Eldoret express and the Matunda bus with literally all their belongings and ship it home. I am more laid back; I only carry a couple of tops and a pair of jeans to see me through the weekend.

So anyway I wake up quite early on Friday morning so as not to miss a vehicle home. Traveling during such a holiday is quite a hassle which I had hoped to avoid by waking up early. This did not happen as I woke up after seven.

Getting to town was easy. From there everything just went downhill. It was drizzling heavily, there were no vehicles, I was practically asleep on my feet and fare had tripled. I was too tired to complain. The only available buses were the star buses which were now going upcountry. I wasn’t going to be caught dead in that bus.  I had a friend with me who suggested we go to Nyamakima stage where we may get lucky. So down river road we trudged in the quest for a matatu.

We got to Nyamakima and figured the only way we were going to get home was if we connected vehicles. So we waited for like half an hour for a vehicle for Nakuru, from there we knew we would get another one for Eldoret.

The driver of our matatu drove like a maniac. He overtook carelessly and actively stepped on his brakes frequently. I can’t count the number of times I involuntarily stepped on the brakes too; by the time I got to Nakuru I actually had a cramp from doing that.

Getting a vehicle from Nakuru was relatively easier. The cost was no longer a factor by then, we would have paid almost any amount of money just to get home. As we were leaving the stage, my friend mentioned she was very pressed. We hadn’t had a chance to go somewhere where she could visit a rest room since we had just alighted and taken the next vehicle. I told her to just tell the driver to stop at a petrol station somewhere where she could relieve herself.

Her making this request to the driver was hilarious,

“Boss, si utasimama kwa petrol station mahali hivyo eeeeh, tunyoroshe mguu?”

The driver must have been either hungry or an idiot because he just looked at her with a dumb look on his face, he hadn’t gotten her meaning. She tried again,

“unajua tumetoka Nairobi na eeeh hatujapumzika hata kidogo..”

The blank look remained.

Another passenger decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Madam anataka kwenda choo, kwani huelewi?!” She blushed at that but at least her point had gotten across.
Between the stage and the petrol station the driver chose, she wriggled and shifted in her seat until I thought she was going to pee on herself. At some point she whispered she couldn’t take it anymore- I sympathized because I knew exactly how that felt like. We finally got to the petrol station where she got to pee.

The further we moved from Nakuru, the cooler the air got. We left behind the stuffy and polluted air of the city and welcomed the fresh cool air of the villages. I felt free. I opened the windows next to me and let the wind blow on my face. I felt carefree without a worry in the world. Nairobi, work and the hustle and bustle was all left behind.

I welcomed the fresh air and felt that giddiness of coming home. I knew the welcoming arms of my mum would be there to hold me. My pal had this grin on her face; she said it felt good to be back, that it had been so long and she was just in time for the evening tea.

 I smiled at her because I totally understood what she was on about.