My life as woman taxi driver

I have been a taxi driver for more than 20 years. It has been a journey characterised by tears, tribulations and triumphs.

I got into the business at a time when taxi driving was an exclusive male club, and a woman trying to penetrate the market was not only frowned upon, but also met with a lot of resistance.

Looking back, I can only say that what kept me moving was the need to ensure my seven children were well-fed, clothed, and educated.

As soon as I got married, I started looking for ways to supplement my husband’s meagre earnings. At first, I used to cook and hawk porridge in Ngara, Nairobi. But with the number of mouths to feed increasing, it became necessary for me to look for something that would give me a stable income.

By the time I had my third born, I decided to look for a job as a casual labourer at the University of Nairobi. The pay was Sh2,000 per month, but I preferred it to hawking since it allowed me to plan my life.

After a few years, I felt the urge to turn my life around. My babies were getting older, we were having more needs, and the fear that I was stagnating was building inside me.

Thankfully, a family friend had a car, and he offered to let us lease it as long as we paid him a weekly maintenance fee. That is how my career as a taxi driver started. It was not easy.

Twenty years ago, a woman driving around town in the middle of the night was branded a commercial sex worker. I cannot count the number of times people sneered at me and called me names simply because I was driving late at night, looking for clients to drop home.

It didn’t help that most of my clients were men coming from their drunken escapades.

I shut my ears on the naysayers who whispered about a woman who had decided to put her foot down and imprint where others were too scared and intimidated to try.

As years wore on, they got used to me driving even in places considered too risky even for male drivers. I have driven around slums like Kawangware, Huruma, Dandora and Kibera in pitch darkness, looking for money to care for my family.

I have survived four carjackings, and even witnessed one of my clients being shot in cold blood by robbers when he resisted their attempt to snatch his wallet. Sometimes, when I am alone at night, I still hear my heart beating from the traumatic events I have endured.

I have witnessed many changes in the taxi business. Even though there were days when I wished I didn’t have to work as hard, I am glad that I pushed through the challenges.

I am now registered with Uber, and I no longer have to drive aimlessly looking for clients. It is a good thing that technology now allows clients to find us. But that, too, has come with its fair share of resistance.

When other taxi drivers were demonstrating over the emergence of Uber in the market, my vehicle was one of those that got damaged in the protests. I continue to do it nonetheless. I have cried in this business, I have prayed, I have been scared to my bones, but I carry on.

I believe that by holding on to what I started, I am also sending a message to my children, and everyone around me, that no matter how difficult things are when you start, somehow, they always fall into place. Just keep doing it, and don’t pay attention to those who tell you that it cannot be done.