Fiction : It was a journey like no other

I always had trouble taking people’s counsel and I’m even worse at heeding warning. Back in the years of my youth, I’d open the water tap, draw some and go leaving water running. My mum uncountable times would tell me, “Son, a time will come when you will search for a drop of water and you won’t get it!” Years later, on a humanitarian mission, her prophesy came to pass. Together with other volunteers, we got stuck in southern Sudan. Our water supplier took four days without delivering us with the precious liquid. I swear, had there been a buyer, I’d have sold my right arm for a half a glass of water. My mum’s words came ringing in my ears like a church bell. This time, however, it wasn’t my mum’s warning I had refused to heed, but it was from an equally older couple who I had gone to visit miles from the city. Trouble started when I refused to board the minibus they had suggested. “Son, don’t board Nyakatsi taxi, town taxis are not the same as these taxis from the village,” they warned but I didn’t listen. I went ahead and boarded a Nyakatsi taxi (small matatus), as the locals nicknamed them after the grass-thatched huts for their poor quality and discomfiture. At about 20 minutes past mid-day, the sun was blazing like it was going on a leave the following day! I opted to sit in the last row of the seats. I started getting uncomfortable before we took off. First, looks like, the higher the sun goes, the louder the touts shout calling for passengers. After what seemed like eternity, sandwiched in the rear of a hot taxi that would put a Russian Sauna to shame, the driver finally hit the ignition, but we didn’t take off. A certain woman chose this time to go buy ‘me2u’. This caused a ruckus! We had to wait for her. Our expedition was delayed for about four minutes as we waited for her. At last she came and we took off. As I was sighing with relief, telling myself it aint bad as my chums threatened, the lady seated on my left groped into a sack which she was clutching close to herself like her life depended on it and fished out oily stuff. Curiosity got the best of me. I couldn’t help it but steal a glance. She caught me gazing and just smiled at me. At first I thought it was a piece of cheese, but it dawned on me when she lifted it to her mouth, aimed and took a goliath bite! It was a king-size Ndaazi! The thing was fried, baked by the sun as the hawker struggled to get a buyer and finally baked in her sack as it waited for its final doom. By the time she got it out, the odour it expelled would give a stone statue stomach trouble! As my despondent tummy was promising to reconcile after minutes of grumbling and my eyes tried to ignore the oils that were running down her fingers, the passenger on my right offered me an orange. Though I’m not a big fan of oranges, I thanked him and put it in my backpack. This didn’t seem to go well with my donor. The look on his face showed he despised my decision. He got out an equally big orange and with skilled fingers skinned it and took a mega bite! He seemed not bothered by the juice that landed on me as he devoured. A middle-aged man seated a row from us stripped a boiled maize cob and without caring threw the corn-coat out of the speeding taxi and went ahead to have his lunch. My neighbour’s kid who was all along sweating strapped on the back of its mother’s back woke up with a jolt! She wailed so loud like it was bitten by a desert insect! Just when I was going to tell the driver to stop and we arrest the situation, the baby was already in mother’s arms breast feeding. Don’t ask me how it got out of her back, well, the whole thing was getting me excited, but that was before the baby got satisfied and had to empty its stomach! The odour was so nasty! It got mixed by the evaporating cheap perfume some individual had showered with; passengers from the front row were chatting with those in the back and the rest were on phones conversing, competing with music of the Nigerian duo ‘P-square’ coming from the radio speakers at a very loud volume! One teenager had his head sticking out of the window admiring the beautiful green hills; basically everyone was minding their business. To them, it was a normal journey. My head was whirling from the loud noise, my belly threatening to revolt! The stench, the noise, the swing of the taxi as the driver swung the car from one corner to another was all too much for me. By the time we reached the capital city, every bone and organ in my body was threatening to sue me for a number of crimes! I vowed to listen to elders next time, but first, I had a story to tell. martin.bishop18@yahoo.com