MATATU TALES.

We’ve grown so discourteous and unlettered that apologizing for wrong-doing is seen as an uphill task. While sitted in a bus earlier today, on my morning commute to work, a man in heavy industrial boots accidentally stepped on my feet (I was wearing open shoes) and I quickly retracted my foot in pain and yelled, “eish, buda, ni nini?” But the man looked back at me with bulging, bloodshot eyes and yelled back, “unaweka miguu kwa njia kwa nini?” and promptly proceeded to walk on to the back seats. I sized him up, realized i couldn’t beat him in a fair, pitched battle and decided to hold my peace with what was left of my dignity and manhood. He was around six foot tall with a faded leather jacket and long unkempt hair, a typical charlatan.

I was, however, dumbfounded at this utter lack of courtesy. What would it have cost to simply apologize? Oddly enough, no one found fault in the manner in which the man handled the situation, no one reprimanded him for being grossly inconsiderate, not even the conductor. The woman sitted next to me simply craned her neck to assess the damage on my toes, found it insignificant, shrugged and went back to smiling at juvenile memes on her phone as if to say, “don’t be a whiny little B*”. This discourtesy escalates after someone acquires their first car. Like I pointed out a while back, you ask someone for a lift and instead of politely declining, they reluctantly accept and then proceed to drive like maniacs so you never ever consider asking for lifts from them in future. What would it take to just say no even if we’re friends rather than risk both our lives with ridiculous stunts designed to instill the fear of God in me?

Some time back, I was in a matatu travelling home from work when a man who was slightly disabled flagged down the bus. The driver may have thought that the man was okay since he didn’t completely stop the bus, it crawled along in the middle of the road as he waited for the man to quickly jump aboard but the man hastily yelled out to the conductor to bring the bus to a halt on the left shoulder since he had a bad leg and couldn’t board while it was still moving.

The driver did stop the bus and the man boarded albeit with great difficulty only to find that the bus was full and he had to stand. “Watu wanashuka pale mbele Mzee,” the conductor reassured but no one offered the man a seat including those closest to him in the front seats. I was both appalled and disgusted at this indifference. I quickly stood up and beckoned to the man to come take my seat which he did thankfully. Everyone else on the bus then proceeded to stare at me in awe as though I were a strange nocturnal creature. I was the only one standing on the bus and I knew of the implications if we came across a traffic stop but I felt inclined to do the right thing. I had to take the moral high ground if no one else was willing to. Here was a disabled man who appeared to be in great pain and couldn’t stand straight yet no one gave a hoot. All the healthy passengers were simply immersed in their fancy gadgets double-tapping on pictures of semi-nude models on instagram. Disgusting and shameful is how I would describe this repulsive show of indifference.

On yet another incident, a young, probably underage, girl in a really short skirt and ridiculously high heels boarded the bus I was on, with her cleavage dangerously exposed, but the bus was full so she had to stand. No sooner had she boarded than a man in cheap replica sunglasses, rasta hair and a mouthful of “muguka” stood up and called out to the lady, “mrembo kuja uketi hapa” causing the lady to blush and politely decline by saying, “asante but nashuka hapa mbele” and the man was forced to sit back in shame and briefly remarked to the man sitted next to him, “huyo dame anaringa na ata si mrembo” (a short online course on handling rejection would have sufficed for the “gentleman”). However, I couldn’t help but wonder if he would have done the same for the disabled gentleman in my previous encounter. I for one would rather have had my butt impaled on a giant cactus rather than endure the indignity of having to part with my seat for the indecently dressed damsel. As I nurse my sore toes, let us endeavor, if only for a second, to think beyond the proverbial box and exercise some semblance of courtesy and restraint when using public transport.