What is this special
relationship between men and vehicles ?
As I look back in my
humble village, Kiaritha, I grew up in a set up where the most treasured mode
of commuting was walking from one point to the other. Boarding a matatu happened
only when it was very necessary and the distance to be covered dictated so.
Either way, few were blessed to own bicycles but no one would dare ‘touch’
these bicycles without permission lest things backfired on him/her. The bike
was a treasure, owned by very few! My dad was favored to own one called Momo
and on Sunday afternoons, he would give it to Zach who would train us on how to
ride. This was always a look forward I tell you. A more privileged lot owned
motor cycles but these were very few. Owning a motor cycle was just not a usual
thing. This meant that owning a motor car was next to impossible! Either way,
very, very few had vehicles and that meant once they were passing by the
roadside, we would get out and cheer like we were watching Ferrari in Abudhabi
. Cars were just not heard of in a very wide area. This made me desire to one
day own a vehicle and break this village curse!
Immediately after I graduated
from Gsu Training School in 2005, I went for my annual leave which was a moment
to ‘shine’ now that I was among the first from my immediate village to join the
general service Unit after a long wait. I realized that to boost my ‘image’
more, I needed to upgrade to also not walk from one point but to cruise around using a personal four wheeled thing to hence I
started to scout for an affordable machine.
In this case, I fast settled for a Mini Moris whose owner was Dan a mechanic
by profession. Later, after a long wait that took me about two years, I went
back to the same guy and persuaded him that he needed to repair his then
grounded Mini Moris and sell it to me. I was even ready to advance him some
amount just to ensure that this thing was repaired and would just crawl from
the garage for road test. I was and still I am a fan of the old school machines
hence public noise in case I acquired this thing would not be a bother, moreover,
my uncle who once lived abroad and was lecturing at the University of Nairobi
used to drive around the city in a Volkswagen beetle.
One sad thing was that I
was scouting for a vehicle but was not in possession of a driving, neither did I
know how to drive hence I called on a cousin on mine by the name Tony to help
me drive this thing from the village to Nairobi so that I would also be
cruising in my Morris like the other buddies. Plans were underway to import an
engine and a mechanic from Kariobangi who was a Mini Morris specialist was the
Lead advisor doubled up as a consultant too. When we got at Dan’s garage, my
cousin called me some steps back and warned me that my decision was ill advised
and that thing would be a total headache if I bought it. I gave in to his advice
not because I was convinced but because I could not drive as I was even ready
to tow it to Nairobi so as to stand and be counted as an owner of motor vehicle.
I remember one day, a friend of mine by the name Vivian telling me that if I bought
a Beatle, she would not dare even accept a lift from me! I thought she was too
hard on me but my love for the beetle never fizzled out. Will still own one
sometime in the future, the old model to be specific…
Fast forward, 2015 is
here. We no longer do a lot of bicycles. Young boys and girls have been left to
in the arena especially in the urban areas but we also got grownups cycling
just to enjoy themselves, for fitness but also for commuting per se. We got motor cycles now. A gift from our
Chinku brothers from another continent.
They have turned to be very popular in
the village but also in the towns as they have been used and are still being
used to ferry us from one point to other at a friendly fee. Ladies have been
the greatest customers as they rarely walk very much, may be to avoid dirtying their
feet. (This is my personal view, crucify me not for this, we got a new
constitution!)We got a new breed of men doing crazy rides especially over the weekend and will do this with their sports bikes that
cause a lot of fanfare especially along Thika road super highway. We got a
lower version of men who do bikes but not out of fun but a means to earn a
living. Young men have abandoned studies in the village to be employed in the
Okada business.
Many have also turned to
their customers for benefits beyond the cash they pay. I once heard some say
that they only enjoy ferrying women as they pay well, are reliable and loyal! I
read mischief in their talk but could not get into the debate as the more they
talked, the more I heard them share of how they romp in maize fields with some
of these customers especially the ones whose husbands migrated to the drinking
dens and no longer fulfill their conjugal obligations as expected of them.
That aside, we got the
motor vehicles. I bet our society takes an owner of a motor vehicle to be a
successful man or woman. Almost every one dreams that one day he/she will own a
car. This however needs to be re looked at and may be was the reason why I was
so much interested in buying one at that tender age. There are several classes
of motor vehicle owners and I will limit myself to private motor vehicles and
may be those in the Matatu industry at a glance. We got the rich and affluent
owners who are able to buy any type of vehicles, fuel and maintain them with
ease and even are chauffeured from one point to the other. Owning a vehicle to them is not a financial burden;
their ‘headache’ may be constant upgrading so as not to be out done by their
peers in terms of owning the latest models. This must be surely a happy lot.
I will skip others in
this class and straight go to the second class that is interesting to look at.
They are in constant debt as most log books are still safely kept in the banks
as they are purchased through car loans or they are servicing a loan that was
used to buy the vehicles they own. These will be seen driving from the first
day of the month but as we get mid month, the numbers reduce drastically as the
cars are left in the parking lots and their owners return to where they belong,
using public means of transport. Saying this can be termed as hate speech as
they will say that their cars are their choices as they decide when to drive
them and when not to do so. I question this justification though. This is a
class that would better live in a rented apartment or house but will spend a
million plus shillings to buy a vehicle. Rarely will they think of buying plots
even in the outskirts of the city, build there and may be drive in the later
years. This is very un fashionable as they would appear backward in front of their
peers but may be as a justification, our priorities are different.
Young ladies and
gentlemen will take a car loan and not give a mortgage a glance! These will be
seen jamming the roads will learner stickers and accompanied by heavy reggae,
rock of other types of music that characterize their lifestyles. Ladies will be
seen driving Volkswagen Golfs and Polos whereas men prefer Subarus. Most of
these are often parked next to drinking dens if not joints in the estates and
will at times double up as lodgings for the obvious! Most will be police
station customers on Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights and if not very lucky,
they are towed to the same Police stations after a drinking spree gone wrong
and if the owners are lucky enough, they are left hospitalized for a
considerable duration of time. Subaru owners are good culprits of these
happenings may be because they rarely know home at high speeds as the slogan
goes.
Lastly, there is
another class who own vehicles that rarely leave their parking lots not because
they do not have fuel but because the mechanic failed to turn up as agreed as
he has been angered by the owners in ability to buy the required spare part
leave alone paying for it’s fixing. This is a class that owns vehicles that
require constant pushing in the morning, that one will often here the fuel
attendant ask of kawaida, that is fuel for Ksh 200 Maximum, will always have a
towing rope in the boot, on top of the dash board exists spanner number twelve,
a very reliable partner of these owners, whose doors rarely open from inside,
that rarely have a serviceable spare wheel and so many other funny
characteristics.
These are owners that
are very often asking passer by people to help them push the vehicles from the
middle of the road as they ran out of fuel and will later jump out holding a
five litre jerry can hoping to the nearest petrol station. They later open the bonnet
and using their mouths will inject fuel to the ‘Kafuraitor’ to help the car supply the fuel to the necessary
areas and they often appear drunk not because of a morning visit to the local
but because of constant inhaling if not ‘drinking’ petrol. The love that these
men show for these vehicles is second to none, the bond so strong and the attachment
so strong too. These owners are always hopeful that the vehicle will one day
grow up and manage a whole week running without breaking down.
The wives to these
owners are a frustrated lot! All the love that they once enjoyed was snatched from
them by these junks leave alone emptying the family bank account without any
signs of improvement. Kids can be sent from school for fees, will stay home for days but these machines cannot
spent a night in the bush after the usual breakdown as the owners can use any
other means to raise rescue cash but not cash to send kids back to school. These
things if well audited have consumed a whole family fortune bit by bit, have
led to family break ups and also have made men slaves! Many school fees joing
accounts are no longer operational as the man can no longer be trusted
especially after marrying a Datsun 1200, a Datsun 120Y, a Mahindra jeep and
other classic oldies.
A casual walk in
estates occupied by most civil servants reveals much of what am saying. There
are so many stalled Ex Gks, Ex Un, Ex Kenya Power, Ex Army, Ex Posta and Ex
Jirani laying there in sad states. Rotting and creating ugly scenes but dare
say so and you may end up losing a whole set of teeth as the owners see nothing
like what you may be seeing if you are blessed enough to see the misery there
in. The owners are usually in the false
hope that one day, they will grow up and at least craw from the parking lots.
The most shocking thing is that some own more than one but none of these is
mobile and incase another is on sale, someone will still take a loan, buy it
and tow it to the parking lot, start watering it with hope that it will
germinate one day, grow and bear fruits and he is counted to be in procession of
three log books!
My constant pity goes
to an interesting lot that buy old Psv Matatus that barely make a trip without
breaking down, the tires busting or being arrested and detained by our
‘Friendly’ traffic cops. These have worn out tires, are always in the welder’s
park, the driver has several phone numbers so as to call the mechanic once
their valuable services are needed but that lastly end up hanging on four
stones, the owners are left servicing loans and if not very lucky are left
taking stress management pills if not classes. This is all in an effort to be
counted as a motor vehicle owner. Sure enough, the biggest percentage of these
are men but a good number of women are often found in the mix.
My question is, is
there a motor vehicle curse or are most people’s priorities wrong? Well I
appreciate that most people have been able to make money from the Ex Gks,
Salvage Insurance auctioned vehicles and other have graduated from the last
class above to owning serviceable vehicles but the numbers may not be very
significant compared to those whose families have been shattered by emergence of
second wives namely junks. A joke goes around that if a man has not been able
to convince a woman to render him her ears, he only needs to stand next to a
motor vehicle and behave in a manner likely to suggest that he is the owner
and things immediately fall into place faster than expected. Whether that it
true or not, I leave it to you!
I have observed that once most of my male friends bought their vehicles,
women officially became passengers with benefits and slowly forgot their wives
and children and married alcohol. I guess am jealous...? Right...?
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