Linet and I walk slowly along the street. It’s so darn cold and I can’t help curse whoever came up with the idea of skirts. I rub my hands together in trying to make myself warmer.

Linet scrolls her phone showing me her beautiful picky friend.. and we laugh at how the picky species ends up picking real crap. Our banter in interrupted by a group of around 10 very young guys running.
Instantly we hug our bags to ourselves. Linet’s phone is back in her bag within a second. We stand against the wall of a mosque and let the guys pass.
Despite that this is in the capital city, the wall stinks of piss and it’s so annoying. For a few frightening minutes, we think of turning back and taking a Tom Mboya street, but then we have to walk back. We decide to put on brave faces and keep walking..

A crowd is gathering from where the guys are running from. More people gather.. we hurry past them but we can’t help but notice the guy in a purple t-shirt writhing on the road in pain. His head is bleeding and he clutches on his side.. my guess is that he might have been stabbed.
Well, Nairobians are just themselves. They are just staring.. crowding him..
We walk past the crowd..

‘Just the other day young guys were shot. People were all over social media complaining’
I say

‘Oh.. lets not talk of that. They were just shot.. right there’ she says..

‘I hate to say they deserve  it but with this kind of behaviour…’
I let that statement hang..

Next time am keeping off downtown..