I leave home today in the afternoon. I cleaned up today because I have to meet up my cousin and other friends for a certain meeting. I have my hair loose. Most of my outfit is white and I feel good about myself. Picking my aloe lips, pink wallet and sunglasses I leave the house feeling superb.
I wait for the bus for a few minutes. I position myself comfortably and I have an urge to look at my gallery photos and I can’t help smiling. After a few minutes I get a seat mate. A young built guy. I glance up and resume going through my photos. Few minutes pass and I note the guy is also staring at my phone. I quickly turn it towards the sun rays. He leans towards me and asks who I am chatting with on what’s app. I don’t answer him. He keeps bugging me with questions and asking my Facebook details. I really hate such passengers. I curtly give him answers and he doesn’t seem to understand he is bothering me. I really regret cleaning up well. I would have had my back pack, jeans and a hood, I would have been a free woman. The guy keeps leaning against me and I have to tell him to just sit well, which he does for a few minutes and then leans on me again. I think of changing seats but then just as we get to the new mall on Ngong road, he alights..
I breathe in and smile. I can look at my photos comfortably.
Ten minutes later the bus picks up passengers and someone sits next to me. This time I don’t even look up. A few minutes pass and then the seat mate taps me on the shoulder
‘You are very beautiful ‘ ( put on Arab accent and garlic stench).
I try hard not to react on the smell. I turn put on a fake smile and mumble a half hearted thank you and keep looking at my phone. Just that I saw how my seat mate looks like.
He is short, Arab with a long beard. He has some specs that make him look weird. His head is covered with a white arafat and he is in white.
He isn’t put off and as he taps me again on the shoulder, I can hear myself praying
Our father in heaven, holy is your name, please help him shut up or move from here
I turn towards him with a raised eyebrow. He doesn’t note. (Put on Arab accent or if you can’t, do the Slovakian one)
What is your name?
Winnie ( me)
How old are you?
What do you do?? As in occupation?
( surprised) at a university?
What year are you?? As in first second?
You know you are very beautiful
( me whispering) our father who art in heaven…
‘ GPO ICA!!! GPO, ICA!!!’ That’s the bus conductor asking who alighting at that stage. I could have hugged him. I genuinely smile at the Arab and tell him
‘ thank you’
I step out of the bus and all I can do is breath in lots of air. It might not be that fresh but at least it doesn’t leek of garlic.