29/08/2025
A Ride to Remember
Around this time in 2022, I boarded a matatu from Thika heading to town. It wasn’t full, so along the way, the crew kept stopping to pick passengers. By the time we got to Witeithie, a young but gigantic man hopped in; short-lived like Rigathi Gachagua’s tenure in office.
From Juja through Ruiru, the nganya rolled with loud reggae blasting from old Panasonic speakers. Honestly, you’d think we had been transported to the streets of Kingston, Jamaica.
As usual, the conductor started confirming payments from those who had paid via M-Pesa. (Back then, Safaricom had not yet introduced Pochi la Biashara). With his rugged katulu phone in hand, he was checking messages one by one.
Just then, the driver halted abruptly to pick a new passenger. The conductor jumped off to usher the client in. At that moment, the “gigantic man” also stood up, instructing the conductor to drop him off at Roysambu Footbridge.
When asked to show proof of payment, the man casually flashed his screen. But instead of an M-Pesa confirmation, it was just a bold “Please Call Me” message! Before the shocked conductor could react, the man dashed out of the matatu, laughing, “Leo umia, sina pesa mzee!”
The whole matatu burst into uncontrollable laughter. Except the conductor, of course. He was so annoyed that he didn’t pick or drop anyone else until we reached the CBD.
That incident left me thinking deeply—beyond the humor. If someone can risk embarrassment just to dodge fare, what does it say about the level of unemployment and financial struggle in our country? Sometimes laughter hides the reality we are all battling with daily.
Photo: Super metro
