I can choose to pick out all that is wrong in the Kenyan transport system but I won’t. All I’ll say is that there is room for improvement.
I was in a Bus on Sunday and I was taken by the conductor, he was polite and helped people out of the Bus. I can remember he helped a couple with one of their children; he carried the child from the back of the Bus all the way to the Bus stop outside. Even in asking for fare he was not abrasive. He seemed to provide sanity in the speeding Bus, it was reassuring considering I was really tired and fed up.
I am grateful that I have a Bus or Matatu (minibus) that I can use to commute to various corners of my city and country. Watching Africa Journal and seeing what other people on this continent have to face with limited public transportation yanks at my heart strings, but at the same time helps me appreciate what I have.
I have the privilege of being able to wake up in the morning and choose to travel up country a 500km drive without having to wait days for the next Bus. I know some of my fellow citizens experience that and like I said; there is room for improvement, but I am still grateful that I have the luxury.
Public transportation in Kenya is privately owned, but even though it is an entrepreneurial tool that does need regulation, it provides the average person on the street the ability to move around, carry their wares to sell, help those with huge sums of cash hidden in their socks get to the bank safe and sound. It enables schools the ability to take students for field trips. The system that we have makes it possible for me to get to work in the morning and home in the evening. It’s what makes boarding school bearable for high school students, knowing that outside that school gate they will be able to go home to the loving family and hot meals, when schools close.
Public transportation in Kenya is a tale; it’s a play that unveils new characters with each act and scene as passengers board and alight. I can guarantee you that anyone who has encountered a matatu (minibus), has a tale to tell, good or bad. The jokes the tears, the abuse, human beings are the most fascinating and impossible creations on the face of the earth. Not only are Matatu (minibus) and Buses a never ending play they are a proof of a vibrant pop culture especially in major cities.
I was in a Bus on Sunday and I was taken by the conductor, he was polite and helped people out of the Bus. I can remember he helped a couple with one of their children; he carried the child from the back of the Bus all the way to the Bus stop outside. Even in asking for fare he was not abrasive. He seemed to provide sanity in the speeding Bus, it was reassuring considering I was really tired and fed up.
I am grateful that I have a Bus or Matatu (minibus) that I can use to commute to various corners of my city and country. Watching Africa Journal and seeing what other people on this continent have to face with limited public transportation yanks at my heart strings, but at the same time helps me appreciate what I have.
I have the privilege of being able to wake up in the morning and choose to travel up country a 500km drive without having to wait days for the next Bus. I know some of my fellow citizens experience that and like I said; there is room for improvement, but I am still grateful that I have the luxury.
Public transportation in Kenya is privately owned, but even though it is an entrepreneurial tool that does need regulation, it provides the average person on the street the ability to move around, carry their wares to sell, help those with huge sums of cash hidden in their socks get to the bank safe and sound. It enables schools the ability to take students for field trips. The system that we have makes it possible for me to get to work in the morning and home in the evening. It’s what makes boarding school bearable for high school students, knowing that outside that school gate they will be able to go home to the loving family and hot meals, when schools close.
Public transportation, as a writer is the basis of my stories. From the annoyed and rabid passenger next to me who doesn’t want to part with a cent. The exhausted driver who has to meet ridiculous sales targets who illegally maneuvers traffic. The conductors encounters with the law. The teenager who’s experiencing commuting for the first time in their life, the drunk who seems to think the seats are a couch, the fruit and vegetable vendor who is on the road at 4am every morning to get their fresh wares, the live chicken, to the kind of music they blast through the speakers and the favourite radio station the driver tune to. There’s so much you can learn and hear from in a matatu (minibus).
Public transportation in Kenya is a tale; it’s a play that unveils new characters with each act and scene as passengers board and alight. I can guarantee you that anyone who has encountered a matatu (minibus), has a tale to tell, good or bad. The jokes the tears, the abuse, human beings are the most fascinating and impossible creations on the face of the earth. Not only are Matatu (minibus) and Buses a never ending play they are a proof of a vibrant pop culture especially in major cities.
The bodies emblazoned with celebrity faces, mostly American artistes, East African Artistes whose music blast through Matatu (minibus) speakers almost as if declaring their rule over the hearts of the populace. The political figures, the late President John Garang, President Obama (this is Kenya remember), Paul Kagame, Kofi Annan and even Osama Bin Laden believe it or not.
The flags and iconic British premier league teams, proof that this is a Football nation, faces of their favorite national and international players; it’s a craze, it’s a colourful scene. I believe that is proof enough that in all the gloom and doom we choose to see in this country, colour is right before us each dawning day as we board into the Bus or matatu (minibus).