There is a new Sheriff in town and he is not showing anyone his teeth. That means he is all about work and no small talk. Unlike his bling bling wearing predecessor, he means what he says.
Among the new measures he is taking to improve the city is to increase the pavements for pedestrians and cyclists. Since he does not grow pedestrian pavements in his village farm, he is carving them out of the existing roads.
Among the likely victims of this noble venture is the matatu terminus to my village. Located in the deep bowels of the downtown parts of the city, Kaka Nissan terminus has been there for as long as I have been alive. You will excuse me, in my village all matatus are called Nissan and this is not going to change any time soon.
For those who only hover around Yaya and Sarit Centre because you think downtown is full of thieves and conmen (you could be right), Kaka is a Nissan terminus next to St Peter Clavers along Racecourse Road.
WHO OR WHAT IS KAKA?
For the millennials, Kaka is a well-dressed local musician and he is also a King in his own right.
Unlike other well established termini, Kaka is a roadside parking space where the Nissans from my village park as they wait for passengers. Because of the space constraints, the Nissans angle park close to each other. During exit, they reverse back into the busy road, and it takes a keen driver aided by a traffic marshal to pull out the move without causing an untidy scene.
Kaka Nissan terminus is a holy shrine for most of us.
When I moved to this City, I was defectively broke and suffering from a severe civilisation malnourishment.
Therefore, on Friday evenings when the real inhabitants of the City went to Boomerang, Florida 2000 and other places that I could not afford, I joined my fellow sufferers who dutifully gathered at Kaka.
We had no agenda whatsoever for showing up there, but I suspect it was chronic homesickness.
We just stood there like we were waiting to board Nissans headed to the village. We wore our best clothes in order to show our fellow villagers that the City was not treating us badly.
We always gave the deputy driver a heart attack because he could see all the 57 of us hovering around the terminus and yet his Nissan was not ‘eating’, meaning we were not boarding. He would wonder why we were discriminating against his Nissan. He would try all tricks to entice us, including luring us to the VIP seat next to the driver, inserting a fresh cassette disc into the player for more fresh hits and wiping the seats. Even with all these efforts and despite it getting late, we were not boarding. The next deputy driver would suffer the same fate, and the next.
Sometimes, an enthusiastic deputy driver would greet me heartily. He would enquire if I was travelling so that he could book me the overflow seat that attracted half the fare. This seat was a foot rest for the passengers seated immediately behind the driver. You had to coil yourself into a ball and pull your feet under your body in order for you to fit. Even with this enticing offer that would have saved me twenty shillings off the regular fare, I would not board. Sometimes I would have to lie that I was waiting for someone else.
Once in a while I would bump into my village crush who attended college in the city and commuted every day. This tells you that she was from the richest family in the entire village.
With good luck and when there was nothing else to distract her valuable attention, she would say hey and I would enthusiastically return the greetings. That moment was always monumental for me.
Next to Kaka was Jack ‘n Jill supermarket.
The front part was full of bread, cakes and ready to drink juices. The rest of the supermarket was a big hardware with hammers, barbed wire, pliers, wheelbarrows, gumboots and sandpapers.
After I had hovered around Kaka until I had greeted the entire village and homesickness had reduced a bit, I passed by Jack ‘n Jill and bought scones and a bottle of juice. It was only then that I would retreat to the college hostels feeling quite accomplished.
When I went home for holidays, some of my distant relatives would greet me heartily and tell me that I had been spotted at Kaka. It was a compliment, like when someone says he spotted you at the departures lounge at Heathrow or Frankfurt airport.
Now the new Sheriff of this city is threatening to eliminate Kaka from the face of the earth. He wants to turn Nairobi into a walking and cycling city.
I have no problem with his noble intentions, but this city cannot survive without Kaka.