• It’s exciting to not have to leave home early to attend a meeting.
• But there is that niggling worry about tomorrow: Will I be able to have another matatu Zoom session?
Image: COURTESY
It was my typical daily morning matatu commute. Only it wasn’t so typical.
Yes, I was in a matatu headed to work in the morning – running really late, as I do sometimes – but that is where the typical ended.
For, you see, I was following on Zoom an office meeting that I would otherwise have missed because I was running late. The internet connection wasn’t great though; I missed like half of the conversation.
Still, who ever thought I would attend an office meeting from the comfort of a matatu? For comfortable it was.
I was in a near-empty 25-seater matatu, a vehicle that would usually be full at that time of the morning plus a few extras standing on the aisle.
The 10 or so passengers in the matatu were observing social distancing, each of us occupying seats that would otherwise accommodate two people. My bags occupied the other seat, freeing my hands to better position my phone and listen in.
Just last week a man entered a 14-seater matatu I was in and sat right next to a woman seated on one end of a column and everyone shouted “corona!” at him.
The matatu conductor remarked that Kenyans were now being ferried around like tourists.
When I got to my drop-off point the driver actually slowed down gradually and stopped long enough for three of us to alight. Usually, they brake suddenly and start moving before your foot touches the ground.
As the driver was slowing down, the conductor told a passenger who was also waiting to alight, “Kumekuwa kugumu [the times are tough]”. She echoed his words and they both shook their heads and fell silent.
They summed up the situation, basically. Yes, it’s exciting to not have to leave home early to attend a meeting — although I couldn’t help but feel that speaking up would expose confidential matters.
I get off the matatu wishing the driver and conductor all the best instead of damning them to hell. I’m paying Sh20-30 more in fare but I’m also cognisant of the fact that fuel prices are still high and many of their passengers are cooped up at home.
But there is that niggling worry about tomorrow. What will become of me, us, if this situation worsens? What does the future hold for me, us? Tough times. Indeed.
Will I be able to have another matatu Zoom session?
Edited by Henry Makori