A day in Eastleigh , Nairobi.

I didn’t understand how the night came to pass,damn it! I had heard a drowning crawl of the estate cock – yes that huge, long-nailed black and white brutal cock. Everyone knows it especially from how thorough and ‘cruel’ it climbs the neighbors’ chicken regardless of their ages. As a matter of fact could it be a human being it would be long dead following a mob justice for raping mothers and children in the estate if not rotting in Kamiti maximum prison! It is that grievous.

As I always do when I don’t feel like leaving my warm comfy bed in the morning, I slapped myself twice to send the sleep parking. As if climbing off a tree, I stretched my right leg to reach the floor accidentally stepping on a misplaced spoon. I was really struggling. Finally I managed to stand. I made my way for the door but lost balance diving back onto the bed!

I fell on my yellow Chinese S^MSVNG phone making it suffer battery dislocation. It was on Sunday, a day when even thugs turn out to be sons and daughters in Christ. One of my learned friends, Jeff, had earlier booked an appointment with me to accompany him to Eastleigh. By then, I didn’t know for what reason was the tour. But as I was later to later realize, he was going to nourish his wardrobe.

To cut short my morning drama struggling with sleep, I later managed to wake up. I took my ‘bhang’ (hot sugarless coal-black tea) and a one-and-half slice of bread that was lucky to have remained the previous morning after I feasted almost the entire loaf on my own. On my own? YES. And before I proceed let me tell you something about myself; I usually don’t buy food to stock my fridge, I eat it. It’s not for display, or is it?

At exactly eight I was right on my door leaving for the ‘small business city’ or ‘Mogadishu ndogo.’ Of course I didn’t forget my yellow sunglasses, I was to be a domestic tourist, remember?

I was to meet Jeff somewhere along Tom Mboya street, Eastleigh bus station to be exact.  If you’ve by any luck visited the city under the sun, you must have seen those old black shapeless containers in the name of buses labeled route 9/6. Those are the matatus flying the route. They are all old, dirty, smelly and almost the most expensive in terms of fares considering how close Eastleigh is from Nairobi’s Central Business District.

It is in these matatus where I found that if you board and remain standing the entire journey you will end-up paying only 10 bob, 30 bob less with those sited paying a whooping 40 shillings for the less than ten minutes drive! Eastleigh.

Ever watched one those United States Army movies shot in Iraq during those peace-keeping missions? Seen those suspicious kids, men and women peeping from high placed windows as US soldiers keep vigil on the ground? That’s the thrilling feeling I felt. There were always these kids peeping through windows on those flats along the way.

At last we got to the city’s most busy division. It is usually very congested, steaming with humanity yapping in all Kenyan languages. It was such a mess that day. To make matters worse, it had poured heavily the previous night. The streets were real messy – flooded and muddy. 

We had to fold our trousers up. We really resembled wazungus* touring a muddy site, thank God I managed to assume the feeling of being a tourist! ‘Damn these Keny’ans,’ the tourist (me) thought to himself.

De_Syoks please stop this ill talk about the place. Okay. Eastleigh is not that behind although the only car model around there is a Toyota Probox. I managed to see several nice hotels the likes of Grand Royal, Diamond palace and Bushra City among others. There are several executive buses connecting Eastleigh and parts of North eastern Kenya like Mandera such as Muhsini coaches and G-coach, Nevertheless. The place is not so bad after all!

I realized that all ladies in Eastleigh busk in a style, spreading their legs wide apart. I think they take advantage of their otherwise very long dresses because could it not be for the long dresses, kids would be playing bulls-eye or sharp shooting with their secret parts!

After all the day’s drama and fun, another friend of ours Koecheruiyot of www.koecheruiyot.blogspot.com took us to a middle class eatery and bought us lunch. We had a lot of fun as we enjoyed the delicacy with him narrating to us some of those homo-erectus stories his grandfather used to tell him as they shared mursik in Rift Valley province back in 1980s.

Soon the day was folding and we had to leave. I remember we hopped into one of those Compliant MOA minibuses back to town. We didn’t even have a proper farewell. Of what use could have been a proper farewell anyway, after all it wasn’t after a date with my clande*. Sorry have I just disclosed openly that I have a ‘side dish’? Sorry I didn’t mean to.

Later I got back to my house, took a warm shower, ate supper and later plunged into my bed playing on my sleep from where I had paused earlier in the day. I was on my own. My fiancée usually doesn’t tolerate visitations on Sundays. It is a spiritual day. I had to fight the mosquitoes on my own. I woke up severally that night after hitting the wall fantasizing embracing her, poor me. What a pity!