Whichever side of my bed I woke up from this morning, I curse that damn space. Yaani, of all mornings I had to forget my wallet today. And to make it worse, I sat next to a woman with chipped nail polish… Let me help you digest that:
Nail polish (Me I’ve been calling that thing Cutex until last year when I had to sound urban) is what completes some of these Nairobi women. And it’s worse when they come from Embakasi. Because dust, Embassava, Kisii touts and drivers, potholes, no trees, sixth floor… Only cutex/nail polish makes sense. So I was already in a mat, halfway into my journey and I realise I don’t have my wallet. The lady next to me has earphones on, and she has chipped nail polish. Gentlemen, that means do not look in the direction of her hands. She was chewing gum at 6:30am. You can’t tell such a woman in Nairobi ati ‘Niaje, nimesahau wallet kejani, si nikutumie Mpesa unipee soo mbili..’ Because she’ll respond with attitude from here to Mpeketoni and back. She may respond with something like ‘Where is Kejani even? Ebu leave me alone. Unadhani we donno guys like you. Mwizi wewe…’. Chipped Nail polish ‘Tingz’. A lady from this side of town with chipped nail polish is worse than those people who used to work at Immigration offices back then when looking for an ID was a form of employment. Wale watu wangekuangalia with your waiting card and without speaking, you would know the answer. Remember that time? Wacha hii ya siku hizi where you even choose a photo that goes to your ID. Just check the laminated IDs of guys my age, ask them why they look like the bark of cinchona trees and they will narrate the tale of the photo taken in a dark room when they were sweating. Back to my story.
And then to make it worse, tukifika hapo Donholm DJ Bunduki (Read Driver) switches on his playlist… You know which song was playing? ‘Murder She wrote’… Ile ngoma ukiwa mtoi uliimba ‘Mother Shiro’. If you didn’t sing it like that, kindly unfriend and block me, because you have an unhappy future. So the song plays as I prepare for a humiliation of the year. Kisiis dont know how to speak calmly, and I was sure this tout would make a spectacle out of it and the lady with chipped nails would do an Instagram post with me in the background and a hashtag like‪#‎BrokeGuysSuck‬. Murder she wrote. So ideas have been flying in my head by this point. The craziest was that I act Epileptic and jerk my body to safe arrival in town, or stand up and start preaching. Yeah, I was ready for that look we all give pastors in matatus. That look that says, ‘Aka kajamaa kanataka tu pesa yaani. Mang’aa’. I was prepared, all because, she had chipped nail polish. So as the tout neared, I stood up… And whispered into his ear “Nimesahau wallet, niko na Mpesa”.
I think it’s my tie that convinced that man. Because I have never seen a Kisii act so calm, gave me his number na akasema ata nisitume ya kutoa. I sent him the money, I sent double the money infact, sat down, stared at the lady and chuckled. Close shave… So now we’re at Muthurwa… Nataka tu kumsumbua nimuulize what makes nail polish look like that… What… She would’ve cut me to size anyway.
Good morning.


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