public transport in Kenya

Buying car in kenya

After a long break from my blog, I've decided to take up writing again. The title will have to change as I've now been in Kenya 17 months. I have made the transition from VSO volunteer to a speech and language private practice in a few months and well, it's been a lot of hard work and uncomfortable travel by matatu.

I have learned to "just wait" in Kenya but sometimes, there seems no reason for waiting. For example, waiting 5 months to buy a car...and still waiting

This is the story of a woman so tortured by waiting for a car that never existed, she had to navigate the city of Nairobi by matau...

He promised to transport the Prado Landcruiser fromJ uba, Sudan to Kampala and then on to Nairobi...The Prado was impounded along the way as it was a stolen vehicle
Meanwhile, back in Nairobi, my deposit of 1000 euro lay in the hands of an unscrupolous kenyan who wrote a blank cheque when I demanded my money back...which sent me to the police...

With no contact from my conman, I stood tto loose all the money untill I remembered I had met a friend of his at a barabeque and still had her number...
I rang his friend who has a physical address for his parents. I rang another contact of his who mentioned that my conman had studied in the UK for several years and now made a living making opportunities for himself....

Straight to the police station I went with the blank cheque and the parent's address. 2 police officers agreed to make a visit to the parent's home and they accompanied us, with 2 AK 47s ...no police vehicle as they cant afford them

In fact the inside of a police station in Kenya is very barren, only an outdated picture of Kibaki, no photocopier or stationary of any kind...few filing cabinets..or furniture

Just several hungry looking police in dark mouldy rooms

We made our way past the parent's guards and landed on their front porch, with the police...The father was old and frail, one legged , having lost the other to illness. The mother seemed shocked to hear her son was involved in this scandal and promised to beat him when she caught up with him

He has learned many bad habits in the UK, she said

He was no longer in Kenya..hiding out in Tanzania. He had accompanied his father for medical treatment to Arusha and decided to stay there as he was wanted by several people in Nairobi, people like me who were stupid enough to get involved with him

I will pay you,she said

You will get your money back before Christmas if I have anything to do with it

I waited....and sure enough, true to her word, she rang me the day before Christmas eve, to arrange a meeting at the police station. She was going to pay back all the money her son owed on the condition that I drop the charges

I agreed and popped into the police station alone, or should I stay waited in the police station for several hours and endured ingenious requests for money and emotional blackmail

While I waited for the parents to arrive, I was invited into one of the dark mouldy rooms and offered a seat

You will have to give us a Christmas present since its Christmas and we have worked so hard getting your money back

O, I don't think there is a need for that since you have a salary
besides Kibaki ensures you are looked after

I have used my mobile phone to arrange this and we are given little money for that, says the frustrated female police officer

I'm sorry, its just that I'm Irish and in Ireland, we don't pay extra to people who are paid a salary to do their job

The 2 other piped in, realising that their colleague was failing to extract the bribe

It is not like corruption, you give a gift from your heart for a job well done

Really, I said. I visited another police station when my IPOD was robbed and no one assisted me despite presents

Well now we will assist you and you will get your money back....just a little from your heart

I have nothing in my pocket...you can ask the parents for money if you like

We cannot ask the parents

Well it is against my values to give bribes

just a little gift

I'm going to wait outside under the tree until them come

An hour dragged by..and then the father was wheeled in to pay his son's debt. My heart sank when he was unable to sign his signature due to his hand tremor...

Then the counting of the 1000 shilling notes began.It takes a long time to count out all the deposit money,all the while surrrounded by greedy police requiring gifts

I gathered the money after recounting and ran out to the nearest taxi and straight to Barclays bank as fast as I could...

So no car, but my deposit back.....and what a cost

My 12th month in Kenya

Its my one year anniversary in Kenya so time for a quick update. This month has been interesting. I met a guy called Johnnie who whisked me away to the Masai Mara for a weekend..The photos will explain all. It is a pity however,how little respect safari vans have for the wildlife.

At one point, several white vans surrounded wildebeest who were about to cross the river. One van completely blocked the access site for the animals. When we drove past the Wilde beast, they were moving back and forth, dazed and confused by the white vans parked in front of the river, blocking their crossing. Instead, they attempted to avoid the vans which was impossible as all van drivers communicate by phone and meet at the same point, as if there are no other wildebeest to glare at in all of the Mara

Despite the harassment of the animals, I enjoyed nights sitting around a cosy bonfire, listening to a man on a guitar sing about the stars, making it up as he went along.And of course Masai warriors with advice for me on what to do if a wild animal approached.

This is what he said:
If a buffalo charges at you, lie down on a flat piece of ground and stay absolutely still as the indented buffalo horns cannot pierce your body.
If a wild cat approaches, do not run, they will outrun you. Best stay still and hope they get bored of the stillness. Zebra are relatively calm so don't fret.

I can't remember the rest, a lot of it involved staying calm and not moving.

My birthday was on the 21st. Johnnie and I headed to the Ngong hills which can be seen in the distance from his house. while I was on the phone home, three boys approached the jeep. Johnnie brought a football along, so the four of them played together at the top of the hills until the ball slid off the ledge and plunged to a lower level.

Amazingly, one of the boys ran all the way downhill to try to retrieve the ball, with no success. We then drove in search of their ball. All scampered out, and returned quickly when they discovered the ball. We then played a quick game of football on a rough piece of ground, their school grounds. I stayed in goals as didn't feel like running around. One boy complained to me that the oldest boy was claiming the ball for himself. Johnnie had a word with him later

That night, we celebrated with drinks in the Brew Bistro, followed by a night of dancing in Nairobi's biggest and most famous brothel: Florida. We dominated the dancfloor and didn't seem to notice just how sleazy Florida actually is. Great music but the place is full of whores

I have decided to extend my time in Kenya so 12 months in Kenya is no longer an apt name for this blog...perhaps the land of highs and lows..life without ups and downs is such a bore. Thats why I came to Kenya afterall.

Lamu

Just back from the lovely coast of Kenya, a relaxing place where beach boys serenade and then..ask for money. Lindi and I met a few interesting characters on our trip.

We took the train from Nairobi to Mombasa, a 15 hours trip, indeed polo pole. No high speed trains in Kenya. In fact we spotted a matatu passing us on the road beside the tracks. Life on the train passed quickly as we made friends in the dining carraige, ordering wine and Tuskers. A remant from the past, there were little tables with greyish tableclothes and service where you wish you brought your own cork screw as it does take quite a while to open a bottle of wine...

After a bumpty sleep on the top bunk, we arose to the warm winter sun of the coast and the pine tree vistas. Children waved by the train tracks and many begged

We watched the world cup with a fellow expatriot from Ireland. I had my Spanish jersey from Spain, 3 sizes too big. It read 'Espana' on the back so I was pleased to be on the winning side for a change. We sat in an open square and paid a few shillings for chairs. We hugged and celebrated Spain's win despite losing electricty along the way, we just about managed to watch the world cup in its entirety

Another night, we stumbled across a muslim wedding. I heard beautiful music coming from the stairs above a restuarant and slipped upstairs only to be invited to take off my shoes and sit with other muslim women as we waited for the bride to arrive

'Just wait', they said, 'She will be here soon'

Always an alarming reponse in Kenya as 'just wait' could mean one hour or several. I was wearing a mini dress and my hair was uncovered, very risky attire given the situation

The brides mother inisted we cover our hair with our head scarves

'I dont have one', I responded, getting ready to leave
Suddenly, brightly coloured scarves were hurled in our direction

'Take a seat' which mtranslates 'squat on the floor'
Great, its not easy aquatting in a mini dress
My legs were gangly and bare, so I knelt down as the pins and kneedles ached

The bride never came...so during one of the many dances and songs, I bolted to the door with Lindi, lmy head scarf flying off my head, landing beside our muslim sisters

'Take some deserts with you', one girl offered...so i did

Then off to a night club, the brothel known as 'florida'
And as you might imagine, we were the only women paying for our drinks. The rest had to work for them

I was trying to watch the Germany vs Uruguay match but kept getting distracted by prostitutes in Sharon Stone costumes, legs uncrossed

Another quick exit

Then off to the lovely Lamu

We stayed on Shella beach, and spent our days sun bathing and chatting with locals including...
The Masai warriors of the coast, friendly chaps who wanted us to buy their jewellery
and beach boys who wanted us to pay for Dhow trips

Life on the beach is relaxing but the night life is interesting. You have to take a boat to the night club or a donkey, a little different from home

There we met Satan, the manager of Petleys and friends from other places

Several drinks later, myself and Lindi boarded a Dhow boat bound for Shella

The fuel had ran out so we drifted in the ocean several minutes with 3 drunken men from Petleys. Then after picking up some fuel from another boat, the engine broke down

Thanks to the whiskeys, we found the situation quite amusing. Eventually, the engine was given a kick start, and off we went, with one the beach boys singing 'Maria Maria' in my honour

I had told him I was married. He asked if my husband was still alive

'Yes', I replied. 'He is a young man'

Then he actually pretended to jump off the boat at the thought of my husband still living..

Eventually , we made our way to Shella, in one piece

Kwaheri Lamu

Life is more serious in Nairobi, with talk of upcoming constitution on August 4th. I'll write again soon with tales of constitution mayhem. Its bound to be dramatic..

Mob justice

Last Wednesday,I was delivering a training program in Malaba, near Uganda, to parents of children with disabilities.I was encouraging parents to interact with their children with speech and language problems in order to further stimulate the children's language skills

I was on my way to the bathroom in the compound, when I turned the corner and confronted an angry group of young men, whipping a younger boy on the back with car tyres. An older man was laughing in the corner at the spectacle. I found out later that the boy had apparently stolen some roofing from a nearby shop. The owner of the hotel where I was was staying, paid local youths to kill him and they decided to carry out the torture in the grounds of the hotel where I was staying

The boy appeared intellectually disabled. Gripped by panic and fear, he was wailing loudly and unable to articulate at the thought of his imminent death.
The crowd was getting more and more animated. When I returned from the bathroom, the situation was getting out of control. One man was charging at the boy with a shovel.

This is when I decided to intervene.

I could not let them beat a man with a disability to death in front of me when I was giving a lecture next door on valuing people with disabilities.

I ran towards the man with the shovel, pleading and shouting at him to stop.
A woman crept up toward me, giggling quietly, and whispered in my ear. She explained to me that the boy was a thief and this was how Kenyans dealt with petty theft- by handing down a death sentence and dealing with it themselves

The police were not called.There was no need. They would deal with this themselves.

The owner protested that the policeman would ask him why he had not killed him.

The mob were getting more fired up and took off towards the back of the hotel.The boy was bleeding on his head as one man had hurled the shovel at him and hit him on the head. He was also bleeding inside his shirt from the public whipping

I continued to follow them, with my bosses looking on in silence and complacence. This is the system here, they said, despite it being illegal.

Mob justice

I continued to plead with the owner to take him to the police so they could investigate the matter. Eventually the owner agreed to take him to the police

I screamed at the owner saying that he himself should be charged with attempted murder..the boy after all was disabled and had stolen a small amount of roofing material, hardly deserving of death by blow to the head with a blunt instrument

He replied that the man was not disabled. He was caught stealing and must be punished. He was simply teaching him a lesson and ordered the mob to stop

'I am saving his life', he protested

I insisted that he in fact was trying to kill him. I was the one trying to save his life

All this time, my boss was laughing, proclaiming that this is Kenya and Marie, you are like an Afican woman, fearless

The crowd simply did not see the benefit of taking him to the police..he would not learn his lesson, he would steal again. Besides the police would beat him also

So there... a day in the life of Marie Fahy in Kenya

And all I wanted to do was go to the toilet!

Kenya is a harsh place and sometimes very barbaric

but then why are there so many Christians heading off to mass every Sunday if, when the whim takes them, they beat a man to death with a shovel for stealing so little

Where is the compassion? It's not very Christian

Innocent people are being lynched not only in Malaba but also in Nairobi. Mob justice is absolutely unethical in African society so why does it continue?

Change can only come when the administrators adhere to and respect the law..Kenya has a long way to go in this repect

The judiciary system, just as other government departments, are riddled with corruption and it is not surprising that people have taken the law in their own hands

Having witnessed firsthand "mob justice" in Kenya, I absolutely condemn this barbaric act which is due to the incapability of the Kenya Police and high level of corruption which sees many criminals walk free after small handouts forcing the public to take the law in their own hands.

I don't believe that Kenyans are bloodthirsty and enjoy killing their compatriots but the justice system here just doesn't seem to work, leaving people with no other option but to take the law into their own hands.

Many law enforcers have failed to deliver and people have to live with the fear that they are not well protected. In other cases law enforcers have forged alliances with criminals and this has reduced the confidence that people have in them. It's time kenyans reviewed the way their law enforcers work, and maybe give them enough resources.

Otherwise many more people will get killed on mere suspicion of having committed a crime.

Pimp my ride

The other day while whizzing down a highway in Nairobi in a battered health and safety risk matatu, the wheel fell off. I was seated in the front beside the driver and noticed some confusion amoungst passengers in the back. As I turned around, the matatu had fallen sideways as we skided along the highway on three wheels! I jumped out with the other passengers when we screeched to a halt. My immediate reaction was laughter at the sight of the missing wheel- the entire thing had flown off while we were driving.

Noone was injured. I took a photo of the scene and exchanged laughs with the other passengers.I am getting very laid back about these type of matatu situations since that same week, the door of another matatu had fallen off.I could have been more alarmed but since none of the other passengers appeared concerned, I also moved away from out battered three wheeled matatu and hailed the next one, hoping that this time all vehicle parts would remain intact for the duration of my short journey.

No-one seems to complain about the state of the unroad-worthy vehicles. People complain all the time about the crazy erratic driving skills of the matatu drivers but not about the state of the vehicles. Road accidents are reaching alarming rates yet there is no monitoring of these battered machines or the driving skills of road users.

Imagine the worst Hiace van, ceilings lined with second hand carpet, dodgy doors that don't shut, blaring music at 120 decibles, a tout extracting shillings from 20customers who are squashed in 12 seats (they have no half seat rates despite sharing a seat with up to 3 people). The ceilings are so low that even I, at 5 foot 3bang my head everytime I attempt to 'alight'.

The police continue to extract bribes but noone insists on updating the matatus to a reasonable state of safety. Seat belts alone would be a good idea, let alone operational doors and wheels

Later that same day, I was invited to the polo club in Ngong road to go horse riding with a friend. I must be the only person in Kenya to arrive at a polo club in a matatu.One other member flies to the club by helicopter, a relation of ex- President Moi. I arrive in style in a battered matatu, four wheels this time,dusting the flies from my face and the red Africa soil from my shoes

That is the confusing contradiction of this great place.One minute you are riding down the highway in a three wheeled matatu complaining about Mzungu prices and the next minute you are riding a horse in an elite polo club.Kenya is certainly confusing and unpredictable but I am addicted to the highs and lows. It's certainly never boring and keeps you on your toes!

Is sexual harassment to blame for crashes? Daily Nation, Kenya

I came across this hilarious article in the Daily nation last week. Only thing is, it wasn't meant to be funny. It goes like this....

26,662; the number of people killed in road accidents in Kenya last year
Female passengers who caress boda riders blamed for rise in accident

According to one chief in Meru, the problem is not Chinese made motorbikes or their riders. The chief, who was addressing a public gathering last week, said the cause of motorbike accidents is...female passengers.

"Women passengers caress the riders, who are young men with hot blood. This is what leads to accidents", he declared

Motorbike manufacturers should now consider changing the design of their models. For instance, they can put the luggage carrier between the rider's seat and the passenger's. For extra caution, they can convert it into a cage or plastic box. This will ensure that there is a reasonable distance between the passengers and hot-blooded riders. Another option would be to have handle-bars between the two. This would require passengers to hold the handle- bars rather than virile riders. That way, contact would be reduced and, one hopes, so would accidents

Ingenious piece of critical thinking and deduction..
Kenyan women are to blame for the rise in motorbike accidents rather than the drivers who don't know how to drive

Watch out for these futuristic boda boda models on the market and
take care girls,
try not to caress your hot-booded boda boda driver, however tempting it may be