The Vigilante: Part 2

I told you people. This thing happens a lot in Nairobi's Ronald Ngala Street and Haile Selassie Avenue towards Muthurwa. Just three days after a failed attempt to snatch my old Huawei cell phone, I witnessed another robbery in the Green City in the Sun. I was seated in my homebound bus; the green Mwi Sacco PSV taxi commonly known as matatu. Commuters have nicknamed this particular Sacco Mwizi Sacco because of the theft that goes on in there. If the street thugs are not robbing you of your mobile phone, the bus crew rob you without robbing you. A distance of Ksh 50 they charge you Ksh 100! And if you give them Ksh 500, be rest assured they will “forget” to give you your change! They always forget and your chances of forgetting are equally as high as mine. I can bet.

Now back to the Nairobbery incident. This seemingly gracious lady was a few seats ahead of me but on the same outer side on the bus. She must have been busy on her phone giving written instructions to her house help on what to cook for supper and how to cook it. Perhaps she was writing a message to her daughter assuring her that she would be home soon. Or maybe she was telling her hubby to wait just a little longer, she would be home soon to cook for him ugali samaki. Maybe she had just come from the countryside to see a friend in Nairobi and had connected the bus to her host’s place. Probably she was writing to the host asking him to wait for her at the bus stage because she doesn’t know the place very well. Who knows, maybe she was even sending money to her son at school. Or maybe she was responding to her boss’ messages. Most likely, she must have been on Facebook checking Kilimani Mums and Dads group. That group always has interesting comments on posts. She must be the Chairlady of the Comments Readers Association. Or it could be possible that she was checking on the WhatsApp status of her crush!  Whatever it was, it must have either been very serious or very interesting. She was too engrossed in it to notice the grave danger her phone was exposed to. And it was a very expensive gadget. I could tell. Probably a Samsung Galaxy Note 10!

That young man didn’t seem like a petty thief at all. I should have raised alarm. But I didn’t imagine he was a moyibi. I thought he was meandering between vehicles in the Nairobi traffic to cross the street. I was wrong. He swiftly shoved the window open and snatched the phone with lightning speed. The entire operation took less than a second! He was faster than the insectivorous hunting sticky tongue of a very hungry giant chameleon. He then casually walked away. Shocking. “Na venye ako m-smart na m-hunk aki” (And the way he is well dressed and hot surely), commented a lady neighbor. But who told Nairobians that thieves are the ugly disheveled ones? Looks deceive. And so just like that, her phone grew wings and flew away like ambushed scared wild birds in the bush. She was devastated. She was reduced. She ended. I glanced at her as I disembarked from the bus. Mine was the second last bus stop. She looked beaten with a doleful face. She was lost. Perhaps she didn’t even know where to go. I felt very sorry for her. This time round I was sincerely sorry.

That épisode got me thinking. What can be done to stop this silly behavior once and for all? One of the most reasonable options is to use trackers. Nairobians should consider fitting trackers on their phones so that whenever they are snatched, they can easily be tracked until these gangs are dealt with. We must fix this city. And we will!