There are two things I am doing as I type this message to you. First, Butu Na Moyi, by Makoma is playing in mid-volume. Secondly, I am trying to peep into a very interesting text message conversation I shall tell you about.
Thing is, I have unconditional love for people who text while seated next to me in a matatu.
That is just that…
My journey begins at Tusky’s Beba Beba, Tom Mboya street, on a Friday! This is the only Friday of my life that has ever sacked!! It’s 6pm, no coin in my pocket, neither notes in my wallet – so am going home. Yaani… sina form.
So, this is my story…
I was seated beside the driver. Then it hit me that I should double-check my valuables, just in case I had lost my phone or wallet along the CBD’s most dangerous streets, full of thugs and bad people!
Everything was INTACT, just as I had expected.
I usually aim for the front seat because of the following reasons:
The driver could either fall asleep behind the wheels, lose control of the vehicle – or something close to that. If any of these occurrences took place, I would save the day.
Secondly, I like the fact that leg room is so vast in the front row, compared to the rest of the seats, where I have to fold my legs beneath the seat in front of me to fit in.
I also love the window factor, which is to say, you won’t remove me from this position, unless you are stronger than me, or at least you look so.
So on this very Friday, a strong man did exactly that. He had a very huge chest… and he pushed me with his butt effortlessly. The force relocated me to the next adjacent seat, automatically. He had a brick wall for a torso, square mandibles, and his arms were gigantic as well.
He had shaved his hair very clean. I could see the reflection of CBD lights on his balded head. His beard was equally shaved, just like his head. He was also wearing a black muscle shirt, tacked inside his faded jeans trouser. And, he was also wearing a genuine leather belt, faded and strong… it looked like it had been manufactured out of a Zebu cow’s skin. He had black and shiny KDF/watchman boots on.
I was most interested in his phone, when he forked it out of his pocket. It was a tiny Nokia phone, with a bright torch. I noticed how bright it was when he used it to find a coin he had dropped below his feet.
The palm of his hands were big, round and thick. They looked like a small satellite dish. His fingers could comfortably wrap around a meco gas cylinder… so the tiny phone looked really tiny on his hands!
I hope you see how gigantic this beast was…
Here’s the next bit
He was carrying an envelop written ”Bartis club”. The words ”Bartis club” were crossed off in black ink, and just below the writings, I saw the name ”Morris Oyugi”.
What I figured from this intelligence was that he was a bouncer at Bartis club… you know where Bartis is? Anyway, am not judging who this man was.
The monster was texting non-stop, throughout the journey. I was back to my old habit of peeping into people’s conversations on phone. I wanted to find out what ”monsters” or ”bouncers” say on short message service.
I was taking chances because, just in case he got me, he would snap my neck mercilessly. I also remember taking part on an internet quiz which estimated that I would die between the ages of 65-75. It would be unfair to compromise this just by peeping at someone’s conversation. I had to apply my S.W.A.T tactics.
My eyes caught a glimpse of the first text message that said; ”Not today, Wednesday maybe”.
At another point, the beast received another text message, and his facial muscles busted out with visible anger…. ”why not?” He started writing. Then for a second, he posed, deleted a whole sentence only to add ”why not baibe?”
If this man was the size of a beast, I wondered who the hell was this baibe! But that was just that!!
It was evident that they were planning a meeting, though the person on the other side wasn’t feeling his vibe. This man, seated next to me, misspelled (or is it confused) every word he sent to the person on the other side.
The person texting from the other end had an upper hand because, with every text message that came in, the more the beast got angry!
”I will not, and you know why”… a reply came in.
This reply got the beast by surprise. I could see how hard he was trying to think, as if he was trying to figure out why they could not meet on the said date.
I was concentrating so hard on things when the beast caught me red-handed. There’s a way instincts tell you whenever you are doing something you ought to be doing behind closed doors. I guess he could feel my eyes staring at his tiny phone’s screen.
”Umekosa form?” He shot at me, with one of his brows slightly dipped. I could not respond, so I held on to my breath.
He got visibly angrier with every message that came in. This time, he was doing it quicker, and the messages were getting shorter and shorter… Be advised that now I was looking with the corner of my eyes… and not directly.
”Sweetheart, way?” He wrote. Something told me to remind the beast of his silly spellings, while another told me to refrain. He must have had enough of this, so he decided to call. The phone rang several times on the other side, and it went unanswered.
He tried the second and third time and there was no response.
Finally, I saw him slide this tiny Nokia torch into his pocket, then he cooled down! This was the last thing I was expecting from a furious beast!
Then a text message came in. He took it out of his pocket, read the first two lines and smashed the thing on the dashboard!! I was dying with laughter. Then he alighted at the next stage!!
And that was that!