I feel like when you ask someone for a lift in their car, they deliberately overspeed and drive recklessly to scare the living sh*t out of you or to flaunt their (usually less than impeccable) prowess behind the wheel or to express their displeasure at having to endure the indignity of sharing their precious car with a “carless” commoner.
One is thus forced to tighten their seatbelts and clutch for dear life on anything they can find and hope that karma has taken a leave of absence on that day. One cannot dare direct criticism at the driver lest he get overwhelmed with emotion and demand that you alight in the middle of nowhere and walk the remaining distance in this unpredictable weather or hit you with the popular “nunua gari yako uendeshe vile unataka” or “gari huendeshwa hivo my fren’ ungekuwa na yako ungejua” lines. If you’re lucky enough to arrive at your destination in one piece, you kneel in prayer and politely decline any future invitations for a lift and focus on a (legal) strategy to acquire your own automobile and practice the driving soundness you’re left feeling only you could possibly possess.
importoptions.car.blog 