The Vigilante: Part 1

It is very notorious in Nairobi, especially along Ronald Ngala Street and Haile Selassie Avenue. This uncouth street behavior makes the great Pan-Africans who are named after them turn in their graves. It is disgusting and irritating. Very immoral! Sadly it happens and Nairobians largely seem unperturbed. Rumor has has it that the culprits enjoy the fruits of their labor with the supposed law enforcers. Sad!

They have unsuccessfully attempted it on me several times. But last Saturday's attempt was quite memorable. I was seated in the inner row of the green MWI Sacco bus going back to my landlady's house after a very long day of hard work. Building this nation is not a joke! That day I had not had time to do Shadrach's standing assignment. So I decided I should do it on my way to the house. I was seated on the second seat from the window. I thought I was safe enough. But I was wrong. Very wrong.

My plea to have the pseudo-slay queen seated on my left, next to the window, close it just a little failed. She needed fresh air because the PSV was stuffy and smelling bad. So I fished out my old, tired and failing Huawei cell phone, logged into my account and began writing. I was writing about Rwanda and how civil Rwandans are. I am told this Nairobi behavior is unheard of in Kigali and the public transport system in that country of a thousand hills is so well organized.

No sooner had I started typing than the brutal attempt was made. Like an angry puff udder, the petty thief swiftly spit out his itchy fingers into the vehicle on my side in a bid to snatch my Huawei. As usual, you never see where they come from. But you can see them casually walking along the street after taking your gadget as if nothing has happened. They are encouraged by two things. First, the victim does not have the luxury of time to disembark from the vehicle stuck in traffic to launch an effective pursuit in a bid to recover the gadget. Secondly, Nairobians are never concerned about stopping such behavior. Kila mtu apambane na hali yake (everyone should struggle with their own plight). Very selfish I say!

I was lucky though. I have always been lucky. He missed my gadget. But left some excruciating pain on my right thumb. These Africans have iron hands I tell you. However my pain was nothing compared to what befell my pseudo-slay queen of a neighbor. She bore the greatest brunt of such an attempted robbery. The petty robber's fingernails violently brushed passed her nose taking off a generous chunk of flesh. I have never seen such a crime against humanity.

That African daughter wailed! Her sharp shrill painful voice sounded like a scalded barren swine! On my face I felt pity for her. I even said "sorry my sister." But deep down my heart I smiled. I even laughed without laughing! Had she accepted my request for the window to be closed, perhaps her nose would have been spared. This is Nairobi. Nairobians call it Nairobbery!