I have this new app on my new phone that tells me how hot it is in Nairobi at any given time. I know it is something that most people have had on their phones for the longest time now, but considering I have been using a Kabambe since time immemorial, I think I am allowed to feel good about this technological upgrade in my life.

It is hot. Like 27 degrees Celsius hot. The traffic along Mombasa Road is hellish! Totally in a gridlock. Jen had gotten into another one of her mood swings last night so I didn't catch much sleep and my car radio isn't working. It always is a sad day for me when my radio isn't working.

Then guess who calls? Rakeli. You guys remember Rakeli, right? A girl in her preteens. One legged. Has a demon's temper. Ring any bells? Well, I ferried her from her home in Loresho to JKIA a couple of months back so she could catch her flight to Eldoret to stay with her father for a while.

Now she's back and she needs me to drive her back to Loresho from the airport. On the worst day of my life as a cabbie. I don't like the word "cabbie". It feels a little like a "cabbage" short form in my head. Don't even know why I used it.

"Good afternoon rude taxi driver." That is the first thing she says when she hobbles into my car. She goes ahead to 'spice' up her greeting with, "I see you are growing a beard. It looks terrible."

"So good to see you too Rakeli," I say as I drive out of the parking lot. "There is a thin line between candour and insolence. Every human should know where it lies."

"But can't something be both honest and insolent?" She is a cheeky girl.

One day her father went to pick her up from school drunk and he got involved in a nasty car accident that left her one legged.

"How was Eldoret? How is your father?"

She turns to face me as if she is analysing me. Or as if I have a movie playing on my forehead. "Are you asking to make small talk or because you care?"

"Just tell me how your stay with your dad was, will you? It won't kill you. I promise."

"Well, he was always working and so I spent most of the time alone. Always reading or watching something on TV and do you know what I learnt from this book I came across?"

"Not really. What did you realise?"

"That I am an angry person. Not because my drunkard of a father cost me a leg in his drunken stupor and not because my parents divorced thereafter. I am an angry person because I have been selfish and I keep thinking that I don't deserve all the mess in my life. So this book challenged me to ask myself, if I don't deserve losing one leg and my parents divorcing, then who does? Does that make any sense to you?"

This book that she read also challenged her to forgive her father and to grab the wheel and steer her life in the direction she wanted in spite of all the mess. That what had happened had already happened and it was now up to her to decide what to do with her life, in spite of the misfortune dumped on her as a very young girl.

I cannot believe I am hearing this from a young girl, but this generation is different from mine. This generation is open-minded with more access to more information.

"And you know something else rude taxi driver?" she chimes in, tilting her head reminiscent of a churlish toddler. I want to tell her my name, but I figure she won't care. "I feel so much better now. When I see my mom, I will hug the air out of her and later tonight, I'll call my dad and I'll tell him I love him still."

First time I picked her up, she was pretty rude to her mother. Today when I drop her off at Loresho, her mother comes to meet her at the gate. Instead of trying to hug her, she offers her hand for shaking because last time she tried hugging her; the daughter's response was unkind. But with a smile, Rakeli pushes it away and hugs her.