Of Idiots and Cops

So jana I left home late (as has become my norm recently) and was caught up in the jam. I was in a mat and was glad when the overlapping started (don't you just hate that when travelling by private means?!) But the thing with the mat guys is that they're sharp and they send someone to be their look out for cops.

So there was this doola who decided that he's had it with being overtaken and he joined the overlapping bandwagon. He didn't notice the other cars trying to pull into the lanes and he kept zooming past, pleased with himself. As fate would have it, he met with cops at the end of the road and they stopped him and asked him to get out of the car. Now the reason he's a doola is he decided the cops are thoroughly unfair and are picking on him since they didn't stop the other cars, and he told them as much in flowery language. A dude this is Kenya. He refused to get out of his car but forgot he had left the passenger side open. They were 2 cops and one got in through the passenger side and fished him out. The poor guy was worked on bright and early in the morning before being whisked off. I wonder what he was charged with? Resisting arrest? Obstruction? Possession of an illicit substance? Being a member of an out-lawed sect?!

Many ways not to skin a mbuzi!

Of my many untold stories, the one that keeps me chuckling every once in a while as I go on my way is the story of the goat. Until recently I lived in South B which is really your average Nairobi middle class area that has something for everyone. In such places, it is not surprising to see a goat being grazed within the estate when the festivities of Christmas and the New Year draw close.

It was therefore no surpirse to me when that happened and I would smile to myeslf whenever I saw the animal and hope that I would be invited to the bash of its downfall. Christmas came and went and then the post election fiasco occuerd and I had few thoughts to spare for the goat. So it wasn't until sometime around March (well we can all be slow) that it dawnd on me that the mbuzi was still around and still grazing. By June I was wondering ... 'Kwani they can't think of an excuse to chinja it?' So one day I approached the owner and asked her what gives?

'Ah huyu hatuwezi mchinja sasa' I was told in a coasto accent 'huyu ashakuwa pet kwa watoto'. It is upon hearing this that I remembered that I had often seen her kids playing with the goat and speaking highly of it. But that's not even the cruncher ... not only do we have a pet mbuzi in my court, but it even has a name. The damned thing is called 'Rehema' ... and it itikas when you call it!!!

Dunia ina mambo!