The Hustle and Bustle of Things that Were

By Denise Tuyi

Harakisha!”

That’s what they say to you when the ‘matatu’ is on the verge of leaving and you are a few seconds late for taking the so-called sweet time according to the ‘tani boys’ or ‘conda’ or however these cool kids are called these days.

You get in the nganya just before it decides to squeak like it’s the only engine in the entire universe and woosh it’s gone.

Hanging by a handrail you struggle to get up the steps. Lucky for you there is a faux-conductor who stands behind you that intends to alight at the next stop. You are assured if you trip you might have a safe landing but your thoughts aren’t there really.

Your survival depends on where to place your carry-on bag and the tired body you have on you of the troubles you carry about the life you have been endowed.

You smile when you spot a free-ish seat and your spirit runs there as fast as it could but before you could heave a sigh of relief the seat is taken by someone close to it because you are five people away in line to that seat.

Bummer!

Then you contemplate on alighting but then a stark memory of how lucky you were to get this ride and the minutes that felt like hours you stood on the bus stop. You sigh then try to get comfortable with the space you have.

You hold the top handrail, you place your carry-on bag between your legs and try smile at the lady snap-chatting on the seat nearby so that when you rest your other arm she won’t roll her eyes or worse look at you funny like you have a life-size booger sticking out of your nostrils. I’ll spare you the disgust or graphical images that might ensue if that were the case.

Next stop, the guy you left at the door who by now is crouching in a fetal position lest the police spot him and he is apprehended, stands up to alight for another similar project like what you just witnessed. To his peers he is known as the most charismatic one, you know the ‘it’ guy. Before you meet, you imagine, he has been at it from 4:00 pm which is rush hour time.

You wonder if he has had one too many to keep up his feel-good spirits. Then you think of how you could use one to take you through this commute back home as you recall how the hustle and bustle of today had you by the neck.

Railways, that’s you ‘pandad the mat’, you are few stops since you boarded the ‘nganya’ and all of a sudden you hear, ‘kanges!’ and just like clockwork all five of you who were standing dive below the bus and stoop as if to hide from the impending danger.

Destabilized and almost having the groceries you bought at a cheaper price in town spill out from your carry-on and shamelessly announce their existence, you keep it quiet until it’s safer.

Yours is a 20 minute commute and you have mastered the distance as well as where to place your valuables lest the hands of friendly strangers want to help you with your valuables.

The scramble to have a seat keeps you awake, unlike the guy sitting by the window and must be now in his REM state when it comes to dreaming. Having paid transport just after sitting he could only snooze as much as he could. Maybe he alights at the last stop, you think again.

As if to remind your mission at hand, your mind comes back to the need to sit. You see a spot and you heave a deep sigh of relief.

If only the sitting wasn’t for a short minute till your turn to alight and would have wallowed in your thoughts like the ordinary day commuter from work you are…

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Denise Tuyi is a Rwandan based Journalist and blogger with Kenyan roots. She is about the good life which is all about good food and hanging with her family and friends. Make sure to check out her blog out at DeniseTuyiLife