I saw a tweet that stated, ‘Matatus in Nairobi would rather drive through Tanzania, go up to Rwanda, and then Uganda than stop in traffic for five minutes.’ I might add to it and state that, ‘They would rather drive through the Congo forest than the Sahara desert just to avoid sitting still in traffic for less than ten minutes.’ You might rationalize that they often move faster, but if you pay attention, they take longer because of the chaos they cause on the road.
I realize a lot of my inspiration comes from what I see and experience during my daily commute to and from work. Over the past three weeks, I’ve witnessed some really interesting—and sometimes surprising—things along the way. What strikes me most is that many of these moments seem perfectly normal to everyone else. But since I rarely leave the house, I don’t see them often enough to know they aren’t just one-off occurrences.
Along the way, I’ve seen things that might not surprise you, but they’ve definitely shocked me. One of the biggest ones is this: as public transport users, Kenyans rarely speak up for themselves—and I’m guilty of that too. Public transportation here is in such rough shape, it still amazes me. Remember the last story I told you? A civilian actually stood in the walkway, blocking it, just so the matatu I was in wouldn’t swerve off the road to escape traffic. Well, something else just as wild happened—not to me alone this time, but while I was with my brother.
We boarded a matatu that picked us up from the roadside instead of the designated bus stop (this has become a common occurrence). The moment we boarded the matatu, it kept going off. ‘Starter imechoka,’ one of the passengers on board said. It stopped about five times within a distance of 500 meters. What got me is that we were approaching a steep hill that is connected by a bridge built over a river. The fact that we all sat in that van until the end without worrying about our safety is very shocking.
Here’s the thing: boarding worn-out vehicles is a normal part of life in this city (Nairobi) and, most likely, in other urban centers across the country. It’s nothing unusual to find yourself in a matatu that looks like it might fall apart at any moment, yet still manages to speed past 50 kilometers an hour. Just as common is watching a matatu breeze through red lights and stop signs as if brakes are optional. (And truthfully, sometimes the brakes probably are faulty—but you never know until you’re already inside, moving along with everyone else.)
Fun fact: driving school doesn’t actually prepare you for Nairobi roads. It only teaches you how to operate a car and memorize the official rules of the road—rules that end up serving you alone. What no one tells you is that once you’re out there, you quickly learn not to copy other drivers’ bad habits, because breaking traffic rules just because everyone else does will land you in trouble.
In reality, you only learn how to drive once you’re out on the road in a real, functioning vehicle—with no instructor by your side and no emergency brake within reach. That’s when insurance suddenly matters, and when your ability to talk your way out of sticky situations gets tested. I’ve learned this lesson more times than I’d like to admit.
If you’re anything like me, and you always end up in a matatu or bus that breaks every rule, then you know the only thing left to do is pray. While this is just one of the interesting things that happened during my commute, it’s the story I felt compelled to share—and I hope you still enjoyed the read.
