The Matatu
Babu - hurry or we will miss it!”
Kioko said to his grandfather. “I don’t have any hurry left.” His grandfather leaned on his cane. “Don’t worry. If we miss this one, we will catch the next.” For years, Kioko had watched the matatus dropping off and picking up passengers at the village market. When the matatus drove away, leaving Kioko in a cloud of dust, he always dreamed of one day climbing onboard too. Today, for the first time, to celebrate his fifth birthday, he would be. “Can’t you move a bit faster?” he asked, taking his grandfather’s hand. “This is fast enough. You run ahead and ask the conductor to wait.” Kioko raced toward the market. He passed huts, houses and stalls, not even glancing at the sweet mandazi for sale. He ran past people, pushcarts and bicycles. Then he saw it – the matatu. A crowd of passengers waited to board. The roof was heavy with bags of maize, bundles of grass, a bed frame, a mattress and three chairs. Kioko looked for his grandfather. He couldn’t see him anywhere. Another matatu would arrive in an hour. But Kioko had waited so long already, he didn’t want to wait any longer. “Sir,” he called up to the conductor, “could you please wait for my grandfather? ”“You must think your grandfather is very important if you believe he can keep an entire matatu waiting for him.” His grandfather was wise, an elder, a teller of stories, a father to eleven children and a grandfather to thirty-seven. “He is important,” Kioko said. “And here he comes!” His grandfather walked slowly up the dirt road. He nodded at the conductor and winked at Kioko before climbing the steps. Partway down the aisle, he stopped. Kioko peeked around his legs. There were only a few single seats remaining. They wouldn’t be able to sit together. Kioko’s grandfather spoke a few quiet words. Three men stood to offer their seats. Kioko looked back to see if the conductor had noticed how important his grandfather was, but the conductor was too busy. When the driver started the engine, the matatu rumbled to life. Kioko slid in beside the window. He looked out at the market for a familiar face to wave to and saw only strangers. As the matatu started down the road, two dogs chased after it, barking. Kioko waved at the dogs. They didn’t wave back and disappeared in a cloud of dust.