SANY-ty

I think the one trait that defines a true Kenyan is our ability to start something and not see it through to fruition or being patient enough to see it grow into something amazing. Like you can start a petty errands company and get all the support you need from family and friends until day three when you are like" oh well, it was good while it lasted I think its time to mess this up!". Then days later we are there asking God why our fortunes have changed.
So anyway, lemme stop with the many stories I think all I wanted to let y'all know is I AM THAT GUY I JUST DESCRIBED. Meaning there is a high risk I'll abandon ship after this thing gets juicy. Heck, I was even tempted to abandon ship after my post hit 10 views; because I was now a star... I thought I told y'all, someone give me a scribe and a personal assistant. But then I chose to be strong, and for sure there is no way I could let the thousands of peeps who believed in me down. So I asked myself what would Kipchoge Keino do? And guys it is safe to say I ran with it. 😎

So anyway, I have been a bit broke so I've been on that matatu vibe but hey, even Trey songs used public transportation when he was around. Wait... I've just realized yet again I've messed up my chances of getting my self a hottie now that I've declared myself poorer even after my newly acquired fame 😒. Anyway, let me introduce today's character the one and only Senior Bachelor Malala Yousafzai Talib- no relations abbrv:  MASTA

Enter Masta, former Matatu owner and driver, now Taxified.

As usual, I hit Masta with my foolproof icebreaker;
 "Kazi inasemaje leo?" I asked.
"Ahhhhhh, nikumalizia tu leo iko sawa..." retorted Masta and just like that, I was in the Matrix.

I must say this guy was indeed the avatar Taxify driver. He had bundled his work schedule to last exactly 24hrs before he handed his car to the next driver. Using logic and most probably street smarts this guy had hacked how to be the ultimate Taxify driver, and his profits were off the shelf.
After comfortably placing him near Jimmy Wanjigi and other top billionaires I figured it was time I changed the direction of this conversation lest I start begging this guy for money.

I changed lanes and took a family turn asking him why he works so hard yet he was not a young man as he had probably hit retirement age?
My Thor moment kicked in, and yes it was popcorn time. After he adjusted his chair to get more comfortable, I took the opportunity to put on my 3D glasses as I waited for my IMAX moment.
So Masta's first wife passed away and clearly, that woman was the love of his life and the only one built for him. With her, he sired two children who are grown ass humans right about now. After she passed on, he decided to marry again, but he agreed with the second wife they would only sire one child.
However, this was Masta's plan, not Gods. Wife numero-two had 3 kids, and this story did not sit well with Masta. That is how he graduated to his current Senior bachelor status after their very very very time wasting divorce as he put it.
So at that point, I felt it was important to explain to Masta that when a man loves a woman, and they live together then their secret parts touch there is a very likely possibility that a stork would deliver a baby to them. But no. I did not think he was ready for the talk, so I let it slide.
 After the tears were dried up, we went on to discuss how he was planning to enroll his son into a driving school for those Sany tractors that all politicians fear.
"You know a man needs to do work that involves his hands not going to school, school belongs to the ladies. Besides, men are not designed to be book smart," said Masta.
"Ama namna gani?" he added.
At that point in life, I felt that I should pretend to be as masculine as his expectations because he had become a dad to me now and there is no way I was going to disappoint my second dad by telling him I am a published blogger with two posts to show.

I decided to take my now dad back to the education story not only as the ultimate distraction but also to get some pointers on how I will explain to my family the reason my future son will be staying at home with a tool in hand while other kids are in school.
Clearly, Masta Dad had had time to think this through, and his reason was rather hard to dispute. He explained to me how men are always quick to take up things they cannot handle stating how we are quick to want all the big jobs and all the fancy education yet we are only good at described manual work.
He then added how we even want to have many women in our lives yet we can't even handle one, and just like that, I was able to see why this education story was a decoy because Masta Dad then went on and on and on about the importance of monogamy and sticking to one woman. It's a good thing I didn't tell him about my ten wives.

Unfortunately, our time had come to an end with my newly found dad who I had not yet disappointed.
"Why is life so unfair?" I wondered in Igors voice.
And just like a true dad, Masta left me with a parting shot;
"My young friend listen- look for a small parcel of land somewhere and start building a house slowly. That is the one thing that you shall never regret doing in this world".
Former Masta/Dad and current Mahatma Daddy looked like he was about to reach into his pocket and give me some money like the good son I was. But no. He was ending the trip and just like that I was TAXIFIED!

ESTIMATE:250
FARE:250
STATUS: PAID




*dedix: Mo ule mfine, Lindaa nakucheck hapo Tena

MARIBE'D

Boots.. check, backpack- check its a new day so let's carp that diem. Adios mi ambotch, as I walk out through that door- I hummed as I bid Stella farewell. Most often than not I tend to think she is among the top ten people who wish me well in my endeavors. For those of you who do not know Stella, she shall feature in a Cameo soon Inshallah.

Enter our narrator for the day, I call him JackHE Maribe- no relations. Usually, I do not document these tales, but my wife(number 8) insisted that I should try and write down my Taxified tales because she felt that I had too many of them flying around or maybe she just wanted to shut me up hmmmm😏. Wait I just realized that the above statement has disqualified me from a bunch of chicas that want a man who drives. Oh well, I digress. Aluta?

So anyway, I sit down, look at and reach for the free daily that was occupying the front seat. I tend to ride shotgun coz that's where all the action is of course unless you are in a limo, drunk and not alone. Flip through the pages, and obviously, this Jowie story is all the daily's are talking about.

*Deep sigh*

"I really pity these two," I burst out to my compadre.
He looks at the paper then he goes, " I feel for Maribe I have been in her shoes, I know what she is going through."
At this point, I could hear that caramel popcorn already flying towards me like the Mjolnir when thor summons it.

Storytime!

Circa: 2001
Location: Kisumu

Enter JackHE Maribe(No Relation) Abbrv: JM

It was just an ordinary day for my niccuh JM, all was well the tilapia were swimming, hyacinth growing, Omera flossing- just your typical day in Kisumu until he was called in for this sweet deal. These two hombres approached him for a quick sale for this Toyota 110 that was so fresh and so clean- Andre 3000 might have sung about it, but that's subject to confirmation. It was an emergency, and they needed the cash ASAP and word on the shores was my niccuh JM was in car shopping.
Being quite the opportunist, JM did not sleep on ears( as the millennials would call it). He quickly jumped onto that deal like a hillbilly who has just seen an abandoned Mountain Dew truck.
JM put forth his offer of Ksh 450,000 with an initial downpayment of 250,000 balance upon transfer of logbook. The two men reluctantly agreed to the said deal only because they were "desperate" and put it down on writing. JM was quite happy with himself as he had just made a killing and what better way to celebrate than to take this baby out for a spin?
All was good in the hood and JM decided to put his newly acquired Toyo into the taxi business, well this was the plan, but clearly, that's not how the world works.

Dinner time at JM's house at around 8:00 in the pm- Just him and his wife. The door gets broken down, and a mob of cops comes flying in. < Insert broken Swahili with a Kalenjin accent>
Enter: Inspector O'Mwala Abbrv: IO
"Give us your guns, a list of your accomplices and the whereabouts of the loot you and your crew have been stealing," echoed the one who looked like he was in command. At this point, my niccuh JM has hung like those VCD's you'd buy from hawkers in town, and no amount of Ctrl+Alt+Del would have saved him. Apparently, IO and his crew had been trailing him for five days now.
I am telling you at this point in life JM was more confused than Noah after he woke up naked and hangovered after his "grape juice" mistake.

So the plot had thickened- 😎51*101 😎. JM's Toyo had been stolen in Nairobi, plates changed and then sold to him. Alas, JM now was a wanted criminoo...

JM was arrested and put behind bars. OI indicated in his report that he had apprehended the dangerous thug who had stolen the Toyo, the Lancer whose plates had been used on the Toyo and also committed all the felonies that were associated with the said plate. Simply put my niccuh JM was f*ucked- well maybe not yet 😂.

As the Almighty had decided that JM would be a textbook example of the famous Murphy's law, he made sure he went overboard with the examples and the demos.
JM started using up all his finances, liquidating his assets trying to raise money because these lawyers needed to get paid and he needed to be free. But like I said, Murphy's law was at play- my former niccuh now bro, because- pain and of course at this point am feeling all emoshonoo, had to lose everything.
Exit wife, close friends, and family.
Am telling you at this point I am on that Velvex tissue like am a Chandarian ( Manu would have adopted my broke ass). JM had lost it all. Having no cash to pay lawyers his fellow inmates taught him the ropes. Apparently, Cliff Ombeta and Fred Ojiambo have nothing on these inmates. JM told me how he studied criminal law while in prison from his fellow inmates, represented himself argued out his case and regained his freedom.
At this point, my ride was coming to an end, and my bro JM had to sum up the story, and this was his parting shot;

"My friend, jela sio poa he he he heri ukose kila kitu but be free!"
                                                                                                         - JM

and that brings us to the end of today's TAXIFIED.

*P.S for Y'all who are wondering if I asked JM if he was ass fucked in prison - I did!