A Motorcycle, A Driver, A Matatu and a Doctor

A Motorcycle, A Driver, A

Matatu and a Doctor

(Four short stories)

By

Alex Shianda

A Motorcycle, A Driver, A

Matatu and a Doctor

(Four short stories)

A Motorcycle, A Driver, A

Matatu and a Doctor

(Four short stories)

By

Alex Shianda

Theoshub

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without

written permission from the author.

Lent 2015

Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living

Translation, copyright 1996, 2004,2007, by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by

permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights

reserved.

Content

A motorcycle; retelling David and Bathsheba

A Driver; being a responsible driver

A Matatu; theodicy

A Doctor; A perspective on the ambiguities of life

A motorcycle; retelling David and Bathsheba

I love working for our multinational.

It has three branches in Africa with its regional HQ here in Nairobi. One branch office is in Uganda and

the other in South Africa. We do boutique consultancy for large tax payers. That’s a fancy way of saying

we do all the donkey work of thinking for large corporations.

Thinking in terms of risk calculation, auditing and financial advisory services.

It usually gets crazy at our workplace whenever firms in a sector like banking are about to end their

financial years. Our clients are very demanding. But I have adjusted. I started as a management trainee,

got confirmed, and now I am a manager, my title of what notwithstanding.

You could say am living the dream of any Kenyan twentysomething. I have a hot wife, we live in a two

bed roomed apartment (in the suburbs), I drive a BMW (the model doesn’t matter, it’s a BMW) am fairly

well read and I have travelled the world a bit.

Three months ago, firms in the insurance sector were ending their financial year.

It was busy as usual.

One of our clients has offices in Kenya and Uganda and I was handling this account. My wife knows this

means late nights and out of town weekdays for me. She suggested, and we agreed, for this two crazy

weeks she could go visit her folks in Kitale.

She left on Monday and I left for Uganda on Tuesday.

I left Kampala on Thursday at 4:00am and was back in my house in Nairobi at 5:15am. The only thing I

could think about at this time was my bed. So I switched off my phone. There was no way I was going for

the 8:00am debrief at the office considering I had not slept the previous night. I woke up around

10:00am to scavenge for food. My wife had cooked and packed various delicacies in the fridge but I had

no energy to heat them. So I poured a glass of Ceres and went to the balcony to sip it.

It was there that I saw her!

She was getting off a motorcycle.

She had on a white sun dress with sunflower patching and she wore black stunners. She was carrying a

Nakumatt paper bag on her left hand and her cell phone on the other. The view from our fourth floor of

her curves was spectacular. The caretaker was on the stairway of my floor. I called her and asked her

who the lady was as she was getting in our apartment.

She was surprised I didn’t know her but informed me she is the wife to a colleague of mine. “ariadika

jina ya Kampuni yenu kwa rease” was how she put it. I switched my phone on and called my boy Jack to

find out which colleague of mine is my neighbor.

Jack is the guy you call when you want a hook up.

He sent a text saying he couldn’t pick coz he was in the account managers debrief. I whatsupped my

question to which he replied with a smiley face that it must be Hassan’s wife, the Ethiopian guy.

Hassan was a workaholic.

If you got stuck in your workload he would gladly help. I avoided all guys who were married to this work

especially management trainees like Hassan who want to please their bosses. Don’t get me wrong, I love

my job, but not at the expense of my social life. He was auditing one of our clients in South Africa during

this crazy two weeks. I grinned at this thought for I knew this meant he was not around.

I asked the caretaker which apartment number Hassan’s wife stays.

“third floor, room twe-loaf” she said.

By this time I was thinking with my “other” head for that’s where all the blood in my body was going to.

I don’t even know if the caretaker saw my boner but she pretended to be concentrating on the floor she

was mopping. I locked the house and started for the stairs. We meet on second floor, exchanged glances

then I pulled the “you look familiar?” line.

She chuckled.

“I live here, like you dah”

“hehehe! No that’s not what I meant (pause). Do you know a guy called Hassan?”

Her chin went up as if smelling suspicion,

“which Hassan?” She asked.

Nairobians are ever so careful.

“The one who works at….”

“Yah! He’s my husband” she said removing her stunners and I could see her beautiful big brown eyes.

“Ah! Then I remember where I saw you. At the function at…” them office dinners are saviors

“oh! You are his boss. Mr David Jesse.Pole sana. hi”

“I am well thank you. Please call me Davy. That’s what people call me even at work. I am just Hassan’s

senior not boss.”

We chuckle.

“You are not at work?” She asked.

We talked some more on the stairs.

I explained how crazy it was at work. How I had just flown in back to the country and while all my

colleagues are working, here I was looking for breakfast. She invited me in for a brunch at her place. I

hurriedly accepted; like that nosey neighbor in the Royco advert.

She caught me staring at her as she worked her magic in the kitchen. She even noticed my pajamas and

made fun of them saying there is no way my Mrs could have picked them. Our talking was such a turn on

and my other head starting thinking hard. She noticed how hard it was thinking for my pajamas gave me

away. The head on my neck instructed my hands to touch her and confirm if she was real. My voice

went to a deep baritone even as I tried to control my breathing. What I wanted spoke for itself and I said

it out loud. I could tell she hadn’t gotten laid for some time for I know Hassan’s schedule. She pulled the

“I am in my pees” line. But I wouldn’t hear any of that. I banged her. Turns out she her cycle had just

ended; no pees. She was in the season of “purifying” herself. I went “salama.” My other head wasn’t

thinking of using “sheep skin” on this beauty.

While still auditing accounts in South Africa, Hassan got confirmed. This information was being

communicated to us at our staff debrief that I had missed that morning humping his wife. As fate would

have it, I was to do the orientation for him on how account managers operate. He was flown in from

South Africa the following day for a three day orientation before he went back and be permanently

based in SA. Being the workaholic he was, Hassan spent in a hotel near the office for he now had a

double serving on his plate of deadlines. He had not been home as he transitioned to his new role.

Last week, Hassan’s wife called me saying we need to talk.

Every man knows what this means.

True to my fears she was pregnant and she claimed it to be mine. We hadn’t talked the whole three

months after the incident.

The driver

I was in a “Nissan” the other day.

This day was unlike any other day for me, for I was moving to and fro in the city of Nairobi. This

explains why I was in the “Nissan”. And I did take notice of it. Perhaps coz I am not a regular on

this route and that is why I took much notice of this “Nissan.” I had sat next to the driver. That’s

on the front, middle seat they call it 1x, with a heavily bearded guy sitting next to the window

seat on my left and the driver to my right.

This “Nissan” must have been on Xzbit’s show before it was brought to this route. The first

thing that would get your attention about it was the loud music. If you can imagine an Ukwala

Supermarket Easter promotion on wheels with spinners, then you have an idea how loud it was

inside the “Nissan”.

At the dashboard, it had all this add on gadgets that would make the Toyota manufacturers

wonder what battery the “Nissan” was running on. I will not attempt to describe the

dashboard’s stereo equalizers, the Mp4 players, the DVD player, the DVD TV screen, the

subwoofer equalizer, the lights, the graphiti, the hanging cross chain, the custom mini-gold

plated steering wheel…I will leave this details to your imagination. All I can say about the

“Nissan” is that it was loud.

But I must say something about its driver. He had my undivided attention. The loud bendover

rid dim mix playing wouldn’t distract me from him. You should have seen this driver. I think the

tattoos, or studs or dreads would not have moved you. Many straight guys have these

accessories.

Had these accessories made him look gay you’d probably have noticed. Like this metro sexual

guy I sat next to once. I swear he looked like a grown man trying to look like a sixteen year old

girl. If you can’t have a mental picture of this, it’s okay. I am just saying this picture is a troubling

sight.

As troubling as the image of how the driver was driving that had my attention. He was driving

fast up Mombasa road. His hands were not on that gold plated steering wheel thing; most of

the time. They were balancing the equalizers, changing CDs, reaching for his khat, waving to

other drivers… apart from the two of us on the front seat; the guys at the back couldn’t see this

guy’s theatrics.

I became very frustrated.

Frustrated in a special way; the kind that you know you really need the ride coz you are late,

that is salted with, I really want to punch you on the throat right now but I can’t-kind of

frustration. Coz I was paying much attention to him, he got me thinking about a phrase in

Christianity.

Have you ever heard someone say God frustrated me?

May be they didn’t use the exact words. They usually say it with a ring that makes it sound as if

it was a good thing. Words or phrases that they probably use are;

“I was going this direction, but God kept closing doors on me”

“I wanted to get a new job, but God kept closing doors for me”

“I wanted to further my education but God just didn’t allow me to”

You get the drill.

Basically, it’s as if, God is the driver of their life and they are the front row passengers.

Their life is the car. The car looks like it has been on a Christianity make over. The benefits of

salvation are broadly displayed on the dashboard.

They can see progress in their life but God is much like the “Nissan” driver. He is not paying

attention to the journey. He is distracted with all manner of heavenly things. He is therefore in

control of everything in the journey not minding your dislike to the volume of life’s music. He

has driven this road eternity of times hence he knows the destination and all he cares about is

getting you there and picking someone else. You should therefore not complain about the

journey neither be frustrated that he is not paying much attention; you are in safe hands.

Again this might not be the exact words that people would use. They may say something that

sounds safe like God is the driver of my life and I am the passenger, I have given him control.

Allow me to say two things why the above analogy is wrong.

First, the Holy Spirit is our guide. He directs us. Jesus said he was going to send us the helper

(Holy Spirit) who would lead us into all truth. In a car race, the co-driver is the guide. The driver

is never the guide. If you have GPS in your car, that cab be your travel guide. If you are on a

safari and have a tour guide, he basically directs your paths. The Holy Spirit is therefore not the

driver of your car. He is the guide. You are the driver. As long as you see him as the driver, you

will always sense as if God is frustrating you and you’ll often not take responsibility for the

frustrations in your life.

Secondly, the Holy Spirit is our counselor. Counseling is a purposeful engagement that has goals

to be implemented by a series of choices*. If the Holy Spirit is your counselor, you are therefore

in a purposeful journey, with predictable stages and defined boundaries in your relationship to

model proper human behavior.

I think the two points I have said above need to be ruminated on before we build on them

further. If you are walking in obedience to God, and you are feeling like God is frustrating your

plans may the two truths help you consider changing your mind. But if you are walking in

disobedience to God may you change your mind about imagining God is frustrating your plans.

May you be a responsible person.

There is a great challenge Andy Andrews made from his book the traveller’s gift on making the

responsible decision. May this decision be true of you today and not just a prayer/desire.

“From this moment forward, I will accept responsibility for my past. I understand that the

beginning of wisdom is to accept the responsibility for my own problems and that by accepting

responsibility for my past, I free myself to move into a bigger, brighter future of my own

choosing.

Never again will I blame my parents, my spouse, my boss, or other employees for my present

situation. Neither my education nor lack of one, my genetics, or the circumstantial ebb and flow

of everyday life will affect my future in a negative way. If I allow myself to blame these

uncontrollable forces for my lack of success, I will be forever caught in a web of the past. I will

look forward. I will not let my history control my destiny.

…I accept responsibility for my past. I am responsible for my success. I am where I am today-

mentality, physically, spiritually, emotionally, and financially-because of the decisions I have

made. My decisions have been governed by my thinking. Therefore, I am where I am today-

mentality, physically, spiritually, emotionally, and financially-because of how I think. Today I will

begin the process of changing where I am- mentality, physically, spiritually, emotionally, and

financially-by changing the way I think.

My thoughts will be constructive never destructive. My mind will live in the solutions of the

future. It will not dwell in the problems of the past. I will seek the association of those who are

working and striving to bring about positive change in the world. I will never seek comfort by

associating with those who have decided to be comfortable.

When faced with an opportunity to make a decision I will make one…the rise and fall of my

emotional tide will not deter me from my course. When I make a decision I will stand behind

it….

I control my thoughts. I control my emotions…in times of adversity, I will not have a problem to

deal with; I will have a choice to make. My thoughts will be clear…”

BE THE DRIVER. Be a responsible driver.

The doctor

In my teens I never enjoyed time at my parents’ small farm. In school, I dropped agriculture the moment

it was optional. I found farming tiring and always conflicting with other better things to do like watching

TV. I grumbled and complained whenever I was asked to feed the chicken, or make arrangements for

the cows to be milked, or clean the dung from the yard.

But nowadays I enjoy every minute of it. I enjoy it because it is time I spend with my dad.

Whenever I visit my folks, like now, I participate in the farm rituals at hand. Tuesday night was an

epiphany for me.

One sheep gave birth and I was the doctor in charge.

It was 10:45pm. We heard a bleating and went to check it out. There on the floor the lamb laid, with

amniotic fluid all over it and the placenta by its side and a mass of sheep droppings all around it. I was in

the sheep fold seeing this and my dad was calling me out from outside asking which sex it was. I told him

the lamb hadn’t even stood yet.

He gave me a razor to cut the umbilical cord, and I did.

I then removed with my bare hands the amniotic fluid covering the lamb. The poor thing was shaking

from the cold. It tried to stand but fell. Tried again and fell again. Tried and fell. It gave a weak bleat. The

mother cried out as if to call it to her. The lamb tried again to stand supporting itself on my right leg but

fell shivering and bleating. After about ten minutes, it finally was able to faintly stand.

The next day in the morning, it was up and about. It ran around its mother who was tethered to a pole.

You could hear the joy of being alive in its bleats. The lamb was young, innocent and with eyes wide

open to see the world.

Around midday we noticed something was wrong.

The mother was not eating. Her countenance was docile and she had lay under the shed since morning.

We hurriedly went to the agro vet, explained what was unfolding, and we were prescribed for

multivitamins and glucose. Late in the afternoon my dad and I gave this oral soluble concoction to the

sheep (not an easy thing to do by the way).

Thursday morning we woke up to find the mother dead.

The lamb was bleating with pangs of hunger that morning. We fed it cow’s milk (a fairly easy task).

Toward mid morning it was bleating of pain. The pain of not knowing where its mother was and the pain

of being alone and abandoned as all the other sheep had left the fold. We stayed with it the whole day.

Feeding it, letting it jump on us and when evening came we let it drink from another mothering sheep

that was very resistant.

Let’s say I am God and the lamb grows up and could speak.

In its grown up state, let’s say it’s in a therapy session or talking with peers about its “childhood”. The

lamb says it doesn’t believe in God because it doesn’t see how a caring God like me would let life

happen to it like that. The lamb points to all the unfortunate things other animals go through.

How do you think I’ll feel as God?

In the eyes of the lamb, her reality is limited. It doesn’t understand that I would do anything to keep it

alive. It doesn’t realize that I have provided for it pasture, shelter, and vet services. It doesn’t

understand that I knew her before it was born, I helped her find her feet and I was there seeing her pain

when the mother died. In fact, I felt twice the pain of seeing the mother die and her in pain.

If you are in pain and you are asking where is God when it hurts. Or you feel disappointed with God. Or

you are in a situation and you keep asking God how long you will be in that situation. Or maybe you are

like me and you are asking God “if only I had (blank) then I would be happy”.

Maybe from God’s perspective, God’s wondering how long until you see the bigger picture of your

situation. Maybe God knows the thing you are asking for will not make you happy. Maybe God wants

you to understand he feels your pain. He was right there at the genesis of the pain; he grieved and

grieves with you. God is doing everything to keep you alive.

Today, may you find peace, peace that passes all human understanding in the ambiguities of life; even

ambiguities like those of David and Bathsheba, the driver and the matatu!