It has been a culture in Kenya where flashy matatus, with bombastic music and calligraphic bodies containing artistic photos of popular Kenyan musicians and comedians and widely known movies like GoT and the flash are loved and quickly fill up with young souls, most the campus age with baby locks and shaggy hair. In such a crowd, you often look so old and outdated if you are above 25 years. The girls in this crowd look like a ice-cream cone on a hot afternoon coz they are all shiny with blue lipstick, you would think someone mistook their lips for a wall in their house..damn!!!The dudes, as they like to be called, have witty smiles, skinny jeans so tight you would think someone cut off their will to be men.
Am not in that matatu. I am riding home in this old fashioned and very quiet matatu full of old people( not so old, around 26 to 30 year) The ambiance is very hospitable. i can watch a movie, sleep a little or day dream. Wait…..is that a Beard!!!!!
It is 1830, stranded in traffic but am delighted. On the next bus, there is this guy, with a beautifully shaped beard you would think he sleeps while sitting or perhaps he never sleeps. Somehow he reminds me of my Ex’s beard but redefined. Why doesn’t my hair look so perfect?? how much money does this guy spend on this beard?? Does he have special oil for it?? How does he even eat?? I wish i could ask him all these questions but i cant. I am bit shy sometimes and i know i cant construct a full sentence without stammering if he was next to me. i look at the shirt he is wearing, classic, very clean and bold.
A child emerges from nowhere and he hugs her so tight and kisses her cheek and she starts playing with his beard. “Damn girl, just leave that alone” I tell the little one in my mind.then i notice her waving at me from the other matatu and i am obliged to wave back. she struggles to open the window and the bearded guys effortlessly does it for her.
she chatters through the traffic noise (through the window)
girl: aunt sasa? (hi aunt)
me: Poa sana. (Am good)
girl: nikuje apo?? daddy, ona auntie mrembo kwa ile gari. (can i come to you? daddy, look at that pretty auntie..)
damn….am embarrassed. what am i going to say.
bearded dad: hi, sorry abt my daughter. she loves to talk to pretty girls.
did he just call me pretty in-front of his daughter and possibly his wife? no way this can end well
me: hi, it is okay. she is really pretty.
bearded dad: thank you. i saw you looking at my beard, you like it??
no he did not. was i staring? but i was careful
me: oh! it is beautiful.
bearded dad: i try to keep it neat but this little bundle here seems to love it messy. how do you like it??
finally the traffic moves, and our matatu speeds off past theirs, all i can see is the daughter waving. i sigh and thank the heavens i didn’t have to answer that question. i am not even in to guys with beards only that this was extra ordinary.
“mrembo, pesa apo” the conductor’s voice finally brings me back to reality.
IN MY MIND 