It’s been such an interesting week of commutes for me, and this is why: the size of my body. If you have interacted with me physically, I’m sure you understand where I am coming from. If you have not interacted with me physically, worry not; this is not a body-shaming kind of article. Before I started working, public transport was not my daily mode of transport; now it is. Especially because I rarely left home, I was what some would refer to as a homebody. It’s related, I promise.
Depending on the route that you take, the experiences are different. On the route that I take, the matatus always fill up the vehicle to the extent that the conductor has no place to sit (I worry a lot about their backs). How do they do this? There is this thing they have started doing where they use wooden slabs as alternatives to chairs. It’s innovative, but it also reminds me on a daily basis that it’s only God who protects us.
Today I was one of the passengers who willingly boarded a full matatu and became the passenger that displaced the conductor. Later into the commute a passenger alighted, and I became the passenger who sat on the makeshift seat. When I tell you that I could feel that if I moved the wrong way, that whole thing would go down and I would go down with it. It did not help that the matatu was maneuvering on and off the road, rocking us back and forth.
Earlier in the week I boarded a bus that was full to the brim, and it required me to sit in the back. Sitting in the back was not the problem; the problem was that I had to walk through a bunch of men who boarded the already full bus and stood in the aisle. I was glad to see that chivalry is not dead. These men really moved and squeezed themselves to make sure that no inappropriate contact was made in the name of the bus being full. It was also funny because of the jokes they made (none of them were inappropriate, but they were all in Swahili).
This matters because when I first boarded the bus, I was very uncomfortable, and my survival instincts immediately kicked in. The only reason why I stayed on board is because I identified two other women seated in the seat in front of where I was. All the girlies reading this will get it. Something else that the girlies will relate to is the decision-making process that we have to go through when picking an outfit for the day. Have you seen that meme that says, ‘Girls dress according to their mood, their menstrual cycle, their waxing schedules, their makeup and lipstick shades, their shoes, and their bags’? They should add mode of transport to the list.
I have nice clothes at hand, but I always overthink myself into wearing something less cumbersome. This week I decided to lock out that voice and risk it all. I was terrified throughout my commute. ‘What if I slip in the mud? What if it gets caught on a nail or a door hinge in the matatu and tears? Or even worse, what if I eat something with tomatoes and I spill it on myself?’ But I got through the day intact.
If you have come this far, I would like to ask you to pray for all service providers because they are the most valuable members of society and yet the most undervalued individuals. That’s all from my week.
With love,
Mulai Kibaara.
