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It is just an overcrowded little place with cheap housing. Him: (Laughing) Where I come from, they only have bullets, guns, bombs, khat and prostitutes.

When was the last time that the both of you played around like children? It takes him a whooping five minutes to conclude his business and get back inside the car.

When was the last time you went to watch a performance at the Kenya National Theatre? When was the last time you spanked your wife’s ass? But the moment I step off the car, I’m hit by such a stench that I fall back inside.

Before I go too far, let me dispense with the introductions. As soon as the request comes through on my phone, it is followed up by the next client’s call which I answer reluctantly.

Me: Um, Charles, I was actually heading home to Githurai so maybe you could do me a favor and cancel your ride then request another one?

If I had to drive around Nairobi for a living, I’d probably turn into a serial killer and follow my passengers home and kill them in their beds just to sweeten my life up. At night, you drive back home to your wife and you’re both too tired to have an interesting shag so you just grab another shower and collapse in bed like a log. Maybe it’s the way he says it that gets me to pull over at the side of the highway. Me: (After witnessing him conducting his “human dignity” business in public, on the highway, I have lost my respect for him. I turn on the radio and normally I listen to Inooro FM because it is MY radio inside MY car. Him: (Singing along) Dictator wayuni, watuire uthaka waku silaha unyarirage arume… I pull over at the Cooperative Bank and ask him again where in Githurai he needs to be dropped off. I have decided I want to go to Donholm via Kangundo Road.