By Silas N
One day, my friends called me for a beer in the most expensive thing in the CBD.
At around 8.50 p.m, I got a bit jittery and wanted to live and the women with them were clearly enjoying my company.
“Matatu za home zitaisha,” I told them, since I have nothing to prove to anyone I have decided to lead an honest life.
In unison, they screamed, “Utachukua Uber,” and sensing my disapproving looks, they added, “Si expe, ni cheap, kwani unaishi wapi.”
Uber to my place is about Sh 500. Bus fare is Sh 50. So the one night Uber to my place is a whole week’s fare.
When I was young and stupid, while living in Umoja, I used to wonder what kind of a miser who stands in the stage from 7.30 p.m, to 9 p.m waiting for the fare to come down by Sh 20.
I can assure, as an adult, as a father, as a husband, sometimes I have been forced to stand at the stage until the fare becomes pocket friends.
In my better days I used to wonder, why would anyone board Otange Buses to Kisii. I mean, why wouldn’t everyone travel in class, with Transline Classic.
But now, that I am older I know that the Sh 10, the Sh 20, and the Sh 200, someone wants to save means a lot to them.
Talk to watchmen who walk to work and ask them what Sh 20 means to them!
I have noticed that people who grew up in middle-class families and graduated into a comfortable life as adults are the most insensitive.
Also the lucky few who landed those prime jobs in KRA, Central Bank, and the monster auditing firms tend to have that attitude of “let them eat cake”
See when you have an income you have alternatives. Public schools are run down, you have an academy. Insecurity? Easy, hire private security….No food? You can import.
But just know, more than 90 per cent of our population needs to be cushioned.
Those are the guys who travel in deathtraps, designed to kill, in roads that are poorly done, it takes a million years to even erect a guardrail that could save a life.