I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO TELL HER. 

Home sweet home. I was leaving home after extending the holiday by two weeks with not so much to write about except for the experience with this one lady. I will never forgive her for stooping too low. She just disappointed me. She is that lady someone reminds you about and you are like “Aih! Nkt!Si ungeniambia huyo ndiye ulikua unamwongelea.“No offense. In most cases I would have preferred travelling using another popular bus whose name I wouldn’t want to mention here.The preference was because I had a former school mate working at the booking offices and so she knew I was a ‘visi‘. To take care of my needs, she would make sure my seat is close to that of ‘vislet‘ so that I don’t get bored during the journey. 

Too bad. This time round all the buses were full and I had to look for an alternative which was Transline Classic. My last experience with Transline hadn’t been a good one despite their motto, ” Travel Cool”. What is a motto anyway? Let me go through my GHCR notes for class two and I will let you know what it means. That particular day I am not sure whether to say I travelled rough or I travelled hot or even if I travelled warm.My nostrils will tell the story because they were the victims of environmental circumcision through air pollution. NEMA will help me on this, the kind of pollution I am referring to. 

I had been travelling home when coincidentally I sat beside my local chief. What had brought him all the way to the city, I have never known. He kept on advising me on issues that were only relevant to the youth who were born if not late fifties, then early forties where early in this case means the nineteenth century. No, early sixties.  I was getting really fed up because he even didn’t notice everyone else was asleep. That dreaded moment came when he removed his shoes. “Achiegni nyombo” I had to sneeze a number of times. That’s what I say when I am sneezing which loosely translates for,’I am almost getting married’. My efforts to waft air and communicate that the stench was unbearable did not bear fruits and had to persevere the whole journey. Honestly, how was I going to tell the chief his shoes were stinking? You want me to be branded the most disrespectful youth of the village. Spare me that .Even though I was going to travel in the same bus I swore that not under the same experience. 

Up to date I have never known what was the exact number of my seat. I had benefitted from ineligibility. I couldn’t tell whether my seat number was A4 or A6. 

My bus ticket.

This would be an advantage to me. Seat A4 was bordered by seat B4 and A6, B6. The best way to survive was to arrive earliest in the bus and have my bag checked so that I don’t accidentally sit with an old man again like the previous case. By 7. 30pm, I was in the bus and sat right behind,  pretending like that was my seat. The plan was, to watch who comes to sit in between seat B4 and B6. From there, I could know where to sit. 

It didn’t take long and a tall, chocolate and well shaped lady in that figure I like most,  walked into the bus. Her strides were short but well calculated. I held my breathe. ‘Huuuh!’ I sighed with relief as she adjusted her short skirt accordingly and sat on seat B6. Definitely I was going for seat A6. Now, ‘warembo hi‘ was going to be effective here particularly with the presence of ‘visi‘. Soon we were off. My eyes kept rolling and stealing glances at this hot chic I was sitting beside. ‘Mwenye macho haambiwi tazama‘(He who has eyes makes good use of them)Hahaha is that the right translation. Anyway, I know the point is home already. In about two and a half hours, we were in Kisii. We hadn’t spoken as I was still taking time to appreciate this beauty. 

This lady made me think she was created on sabbath when God was resting because He had all the time to do a good job. If the sitting apparatus were not balanced, He would chop them off and redo the job. Oh my goodness. I can’t tell how long I had slept when I felt the aroma of warm chips. Of course I can tell the aroma of hot chips even when I am asleep. Mark my word, hot chips for that matter. I am an experienced jawanyo so about the aroma of food, no doubts. When I woke up, the lady beside me was the consumer of the chips whose aroma had opened my eyes. Get it that it’s not my nostrils that got the aroma, it was my eyelids. The lady was lucky because if the aroma got to my nostrils, her chips would have lost its aroma due to the nature of my nostrils, big, dark and oval-shaped.

Uuuuwiiii!!!! . I just realised there had been a stop over in Narok which I had not benefitted from. The stop over had been basically for buying foodstuffs not for everyone but those who had the money. Somebody like me wouldn’t have benefitted from that knowing well that I only had a fifty bob note in my pocket for transport from town to Syokimau. What I would have benefitted from was going to relieve myself during that short stop over. Heheheeh,  tricky. 

To tell the truth, I was really pressed. Very pressed. Overpressed. Name all kind of presses, they all ended at what I was feeling. How was I going to deal with this until Nairobi from Narok yet I had a ‘mission’ to accomplish?  Just then, I remembered that when man learns to shoot without missing, the bird has to learn to fly without perching.I gave my mrembo time to consume her chips that were reducing at a fast rate and I could now count how many were remaining. Paying keen attention. 

Kidogo tu, she stepped on my shoe. I didn’t waste time or even think once,  that was the moment to strike a conversation and make the first impression all ladies look for. A few pleasantries and we were getting on well. So far her name is eeeeeh, I don’t know. I haven’t asked her yet. Things were moving as planned and signs were predictable that I would have her contacts by the time we alight. Suddenly, I felt a strong stench. That stench made my large nostrils to coil. I had to react fast or else I was going to develop bloat and my stomach would be full of gases. The result would be a whole me,  farting. No. No. No. This was not going to happen. 

I lit the torch on my phone and started looking for the person who had removed his or her shoes. First, I noticed this beautiful lady had removed her shoes. This lady was so beautiful and just couldn’t by all means be the source of that stench. Half into the search, I realised there was no other person who had removed shoes. Heheehe. Thitima! The lady was the one. I moved closer to confirm my fears. True. Very true. Mimi kwisha.!!! 

The stench was not any normal stench. It was that of a rotten egg of a kienyeji chicken. I didn’t know what to tell her. Mission fail.. 

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