NAIROBI,A sweetly crowded and noisy Nairobi- with the smell of fried potatoes and all sorts of concoctions in the air . Is what greeted me. I had just arrived from kisumu. That translates to seven hours seated on an uncomfortable seat. This time I was fortunate enough to sit infront of some stupid little kid who kept poking at my head, yanking my hair and hitting the seat. It was not enjoyable ,adding to that ,the smell of boiled eggs as someone thought it wise to devour eggs in the car.
I had to deal with that and 20 minute stops at petrol stations which overprice everything including water. Oooh I forgot to add the toilets. *faints
I walked all the way to ambassador from River road(which is not that far but I had two heavy bags on me,one on my back and the other slinged on my shoulder)only to have first hand encounter with what I thought was a myth.
A pick pocket, which is just a fancy way of calling someone a thief .
I was crossing the road and me being the good person that I am I looked left and right before crossing. As it is in crossing Nairobi streets you have to cross while close together lest the large buses decide to hit you.
A lady behind me yanked my bag ,which popped open(I stuffed it with as many things as I could) I turned to glare at her only for her to point at the guy next to me and whisper that he was stealing from me.
He was unzipping my sling bag by fate it was the pocket in which my phone was and the crumpled 100bob note that was my bus fare was .My very fake but very big android phone was there too. The lady was very brave -God bless her. You never call out a thief like that cause he may turn on you and stab you or even hit your head real hard.
He unfortunately had this shaggy hair guys like so much this days -with the ends twisted to look pointy? Which means from then onwards I would stereotype all guys with such hair.
Note:before the incident I had nothing against those with such hair .
He was petrified that I would scream hence alerting the public to his presence which would entail mob justice (it happens) .He was trying to creep away from me without arousing suspicion. I was probably too tired to even react.
I looked at him and felt so so sad. He looked like a normal guy probably hustling by touting not stealing.The most prevalent emotion was hate knowing if he had succeeded I would have been stranded with no fare and no means of communication.
I thanked the lady and hoped she would make it home safe. Once upon a time I pitied thieves saying they had no other means of making money. I realised they are just lazy bums who are not willing to work. Don’t give me the “there is no employment “crap. Heck even prostitutes make money through work!!!!