Before coming to Nairobi in 2003, I had been warned to be very careful in ‘that city’.
My mother cautioned me about talking to strangers.
On the day of the journey, she packed me potato chips and eggs in a lunch box and told me with so much love in her eyes: “I can’t give you any money my son; that’s all I have.”
I remember sitting in the bus at Mtito Wa Ndei enjoying my home cooked food as the rest, probably Nairobians traveling from Mombasa, stepped out to eat at the restaurants.
On arrival, I was shocked by the speed at which people were moving. Everyone seemed so busy.
But that was nothing compared to watching a woman being mugged while everyone went on with their business.
I would get mugged and undressed
Not even her cry for help seemed to awaken the human nature in these living beings moving around.
Then there was this annoying habit where I had to queue for a matatu. I had never seen this in Mombasa.
The preachers in River Road did not make life any easier for me. It was like a competition on who would shout the loudest.
There was more madness near Globe Roundabout.
City council askaris and hawkers engaged in running battles. At first it was the City Council chasing the hawkers who would in return chase them with stones, which I found quite hilarious.
I decided to visit a friend from K-South music group. However, my grandmother would not let me claiming that K-South was too risky for me.
She told me that Kariobangi South was the most dangerous area in Nairobi. She told me that I would get mugged and undressed if I went there. I never visited Kariobangi South until I graduated into a ‘real’ Nairobian!