Transportation

The greatest hassle during our time in Nairobi has been getting from one place to another. We don’t have a car, but even if we did transportation would be a major obstacle most days. Reason: the traffic is horrible. The city roads have changed very little since we lived here 30 years ago, and they are simply not up to the number of cars on the road. So, one must routinely budget one and a half hours to get from one part of town to another, and much of the time it’s just as fast to walk.

So we do. Lots of walking. But since sidewalks are scarce, walking is not particularly pleasant. You dodge cars and mudholes while breathing pollution. We get most of our exercise hoofing it.

Or we take a matatu. That’s what Kenyans call the buses and vans, privately owned and operated, that are the backbone of the transportation system. {If you look closely at the photo you’ll see Popie getting on one of the nicer, bigger buses.) There are many matatus, maybe a quarter of the vehicles on the road, so you don’t have to wait long, usually. Generally they are jammed full, and the seats are set so close that I can’t get my knees to fit. The drivers are, shall we say, aggressive, and the conductors who take your fare are a marvel of gymnastics swinging in and out of the open door, jumping on when the vehicle is already moving into traffic, and singing out their destination and cost in a singsong that sounds very much like a fired-up Pentecostal preacher. Matatus are cheap. We pay about a quarter for most routes.

Matatus work, except when they don’t. One day two weeks ago the local Mafia known as the Mungiki called for a one-day halt to matatus, and everybody got stuck. (It’s an interesting story: a UN representative had that week issued a report accusing the police of killing people without a trial, the government blew it off, and the Mungiki, who perpetrate horrible, grisly crimes, protested in favor of human rights. The Mungiki are the ones the police tend to murder, so they had developed liberal sympathies.)

The third option is begging a ride from friends. Our hosts the Okonjis and the Wachiras have been extraordinarily generous—and in this traffic, it’s no casual thing to offer a ride. We rely on their help, particularly when we have to travel after dark (which falls at 7:00 p.m.) because it’s not very safe to be walking around then. Most of the time, we try very hard to be safely at home when the sun sets.

In Santa Rosa, as most of you know, we hardly drive and rarely hit traffic. We’ve made up that deficit here.