Transport business has many ups and downs

If you remember, last week I was in the process of repairing my car in anticipation of booming business this December. Ali, who constructed my state-of-the-art bungalow; and who is my mechanic, had told me that the car would be ready last Sunday.

But you know all fundis. It was not ready. If anything, he needed more money, as more defects had been discovered. “Hii steering wheel inahitaji alignment,” he said. Luckily, I already had received a deposit from another customer and I paid. “Sasa ile imebaki ni Gear Box fluid, brake oil and clutch oil,”

The car was ready on Tuesday, but he would not allow me to take it just yet. “You have to practice again, nisipokuonyesha utachoma clutch yake.”

We spent the better part of the afternoon with him. I may not be a professor, but those we went to school with will tell you that I am very bright. This shone through the driving lessons. I passed with flying colours!

Business was waiting for me as soon as I was done with Ali. As expected, the Nairobi people had started arriving. First to arrive was my cousin Kizito, his wife Wairimu (whom we all call Nimo), and their children. Although there were boda bodas around, it was raining.

TOO TIRED FROM WALKING

Looking at Kizito and his wife, it was clear that they were too tired from walking in Nairobi, and it was my pleasure to show them that we in the village have not banned anything.

“Don’t leave,” I need you to take me somewhere,” Kizito said after I dropped them.

“Baba Dylan, huwezi ingia tu na kutoka,” said Nimo. “Hata hatujui kitanda na mattress ziko wapi.”

“Siendi mbali,” he told her, wore a jacket and got into the car. The first stop was Cosmas Bar and Rest, Mwisho wa Lami’s famous bar that is active during December, and remains mostly closed for the rest of the year. It was clear Kizito had money, and from my past experience, he would have nothing within a few days. I demanded for Sh2,500 as I knew he would need a few other trips from me later, and he would be having no money.

“Kwanza you haven’t paid me back the 1,000 I gave you last January for your fare back to Nairobi,” I told him when he complained. He gave me Sh3,500!

As a responsible person, who was also being entrusted with people’s lives, I only took one beer at Cosmos, and went back to the stage to wait for the second Western Coach bus to arrive. It was still raining so I had an advantage over the boda boda.

I was lucky to get one customer whom I ferried with his family to the neighbouring village.

Drama started just after we left Mwisho wa Lami village. I got stuck in mud. It took the help of a few village boys to push and pull the car through the mud.

“Daddy tutaanguka,” one of the boys screamed loudly as the car swerved from one side to another, the boys pushing it. It was about 7pm when we got to their home, and we had a long argument when I told him he had to pay Sh2,000 more. After long haggling — actually it was quarrelling — he added me Sh1,500 to the original Sh1,000 he had given me.

The journey back was not good either. The road was muddier and, despite our best efforts, the car landed in a ditch. I walked home, arriving at 10pm. Together with Ali, we picked the car the next morning. It had dried a bit, but his skilful driving got it out without any pushing or pulling.

“Hakuna matope hapa, Dre,” he said. “Nissan Sunny hazikwamangi kwa matope, ni wewe hukujua kudrive,” he said.

A few things had been spoilt and it took the rest of the day to fix the car — plus Sh700. On Thursday morning, I ferried Kizito and his family to Kizito’s aunt a few villages away. Once we arrived, Kizito and I left them and went to the nearest market where Kizito, still loaded, walked straight to a bar. I tried to avoid taking any alcohol but you know these things, the heart was willing but the body was weak.

“Usijali, mimi ni driver, ukishindwa nitaendesha gari,” he assured me. So I indulged. I can’t remember how we got back home. All I know is that Juma came to wake me up on Friday at 9am, dressed up and ready for me to drive them to his father-in-law’s funeral, having already taken deposit for the trip the week before. The car was nowhere to be seen. Kizito would return the car much later that day, with no fuel and with a flat tyre, among other defects. The story of how the car got back on the road yesterday is a long one, or even how I handled Juma.

At Hitler’s, my new exploits were the talk of town, with boda boda crew complaining that I had taken over their business.

“Relax,” one of them said yesterday. “Dre anaringa kwa sababu mkebe yake haijagusa lami. Si Jamhuri Day anapeleka watu Busia na lazima atapitia lami? Atajua hajui! Wacha tuone kama atafika!”

Busia, are you read for Yours Truly this Jamhuri Day?