THE SAVAGE GREED ON THE ROAD

The day had finally arrived when I would say goodbye to my loved ones and tell them see you in the evening. No more would I be a potato sack at home. The comforting words given by my friends and family are finally over. I was now part of the working force. It was the first week when I realized the effect of Covid on the roads. Wear a mask, No entry without a mask, keep social distance. The drivers, conductors and traffic police all ensured it was done but at the price of my wallet. After the first week, I was busy calculating and finding out that all my savings was spent on the road and it was not because of a PSV (public service vehicle) strikes or fuel hikes. Would I be able to survive in this economy? This was the question in my mind.

You have to be in the game to know how it is played; knowing the rules doesn’t cut it. This was the lesson of week two when I was the road. I grew smarter, waking up early and doing a walking marathon in the evening, timing myself to catch the last and cheapest PSV home. My efforts were futile that week. I had given up. There was no hope. I decided not to give my body stitches on a daily basis by rushing my body muscles to the bus-stop. Day one of week three, my arrival at the bust stop was met by a crowded station that was bursting with horns, music and filled with dust. There touts were each calling out trying to hurriedly fill their selected PSV with passengers and move to the next in swift motion. My route to home has a variety to choose from. It was then I learnt, the game was rigged. Tout number one was calling out a price and the other one shouting a higher price while the third tout said a higher price than the previous. As if it was a competition, the first tout hiked the price of the third tout by another 10Ksh. They looked at each other and laughed as they continued their game with people’s livelihood.

The anger of passengers were only consoled by the touts who whispered consoling words when they dropped the hiked fare by 10ksh and led them to their PSV. It was a victory for them. They nailed a foolish one. We are all foolish because even as we all decided to gather and complain about their abuse, we were ignored and when they had the audacity to answer us it was “we kaa hapo, wale wakujaza gari wanakuja.” It wasn't even a battle to begin with and the only thing a person got was a sense of disappointment and loss. After a verbal exchange with the conductor, we gave up so as not to spend the nigh at the station. Once it was full, we were ready to get on the road, until the conductor told the tout “wengine wawili,” the person seated beside me was like, these senseless people. Two people became ten more. A hiked price we had to pay yet the bus was filled to the brim with no social distance. Other passengers were adamant, the stern verbal response from the conductor was “gari si yenu, msongeane na ka hamtaki mshuke.” It was a lack of ethics and a verbal abuse that would emotionally hurt someone just for not being able to purchase a range-rover. These people knew the power they had, and knew the outcome of their actions even though they were on the wrong, they still did it.

What kind of world are we living in? The government has set the bar so high that even us on the ground we have to snap and bite each other to survive. A struggling person taking advantage of another struggling person. There was no kindness, no empathy, no consideration on the road. The only thing you could do as a person was survive. So I woke up early and I gave my body stitches just to survive. It was one of those day that I felt the world was against me. I did my part and it was the best but my arrival at the station was met with no PSV. I had to wait. I met another passenger waiting for the same bus route and we got to talking. How much is the fare right now likely to be? There is no bus at the terminal, the first one will likely hike prices for the rest, expect a price of 150ksh. She was shocked. So we waited until after rush hour is over or what? Not possible even past rush hour the price will be that same hiked price or even higher, its better to leave when you can. The information needed to digest and the rest of the wait was done in silence.

As predicted the first bus came in and it hike the price but at least it maintained COVID-19 regulations. The way home was met with traffic. We hadn’t gone a kilometer when the conductor started collecting bus fare. The lady I met at the station was one seat in front of mine. When the conductor reached her seat, she couldn’t contain herself. ‘Nyinyi watu hamna utu, mtu anaumia na bado mnamuumiza. Fare 150, na hata hamna uchungu.’ The conductor gave her her change and the following response. “Ndio maana gari si 200, ni kwa sababu tunajua mnaumia.” I was ready to chime in my support of the lady’s words when the conductor’s response left me disconcerted. So was the lady, who was left speechless as the conductor went on collecting bus fare.

This is the true power they hold and abuse. We are in a state where when it comes to the streets the masses have no power or a voice. We, the passengers are the victims. The complaints to Saccos has no effect as they benefit from the savagery in the transportation industry. Despite me having no power, I decided that no matter the situation I will survive the wilderness that has become of the Kenyan transportation industry. If I am motivated enough, I will complain while obliging to their standards. If I am not exhausted, I will go head to head with the conductor while telling him his actions are unethical. If the Sacco offices are open, I will drop by while asking where is the manager. Never stop speaking, despite the rude responses, SPEAK. Even if it is your only voice, let it be heard in the silence of abuse.

It makes me happy, there are those strong enough to take shit from conductors. So much so, the words they say leave those hungry mongers unable to fit a rude response. ‘Gari 120, gari 120,’ it is the song sang by conductors at the bus station. ‘Ukona mbao, madam ukona mbao, huna mbao?, angalia ka ukona mbao, ukona mbao’ is another song they sing. A lady fed up with their antics spoke out. ‘si mweke gari ikuwe mia, hii ni biashara gari ya kuuliza watu kama wakona change. Ka hamwezi pea mtu change mweke gari ikuwe mia. Ulafi ya mbao na hata hamwezi pea mtu change.’ The truth and humor of the matter left the conductor unable to speak as he stopped asking people if they had loose money. It was one of those days where despite passengers being submissive to the whims of drivers, touts and conductors, there was sense of victory. As we continue to courageously face the ultimatums of the streets, let speech be better than silence.

By The Explicit Explainer.