The Train Not Taken!
Why You Shouldn't Assume
This is ‘The Train Not Taken' audio overview! Today marks the beginning of something I've been meaning to do for a while, and I've finally taken the leap. I promise we will perfect and refine this experience along the way.
Frustrations! Have you ever been stuck in traffic for almost 6 hrs and when you just decide to abandon your journey to walk to your destination, that’s when the traffic officer decides to let loose and the road becomes clear all of a sudden? Or worse, have you experienced the agony of waiting for a matatu to fill up, and when impatience gets over you and you decide to walk out to get another matatu, that’s when a group of women coming from a chama or a house fellowship decide to show up and fill that matatu and you remain stuck at the bus stop wondering why it always happens to you? Ouch! That’s the kind of heartbreak that can ruin your plans, especially if you are on a schedule that you were trying to chase.
There is however a premium level of frustration: Craig David once sang I am walking away from the troubles of my life. Ever tried to avoid trouble by changing your routine, only to end up in an even worse situation?
Imagine thinking it would be wise to save a few coins by not boarding at your usual pick-up point and you decide to walk a few distance, only to find out the fare hasn’t changed, or it’s even higher! It’s enough to make you frustrated and feel like you’ve wasted your time. Sound familiar? If you’ve ever felt the sting of urban frustration, you’re not alone. Welcome to my ‘wonderful’ world of disappointments.
It is a cold, lonely Wednesday evening a few minutes past 7.15 pm. I am calmly sitting at a lonely bench in Makadara Railway Station, puking, venting, populating my innocent notepad on my phone with my endless frustrations as I patiently wait for the 8.20 pm train to arrive. Seriously Arunga, you ought to be home by this time. How did I end up here?
I was coming from a function in Upper Hill. I wanted to beat the evening traffic and get home on time and just relax after a long exhaustive day. I don’t have a car, so cruising on the coveted Nairobi Expressway is not an option.
For some reason, I felt that today I was tired of enriching these matatu owners with my whooping 80 bob only to spend close to 1 hour of my precious time in traffic along Mombasa Road. Wakwende uko!
Some mazmatic here hasn’t been making sense for a while now. Even after applying all the Newton's laws of motion, I couldn’t quite figure out how a person staying in Imara Daima Embakasi South, pays a similar fare to a person who is staying in Kitengela-Kajiado county. 80 shillings! Aren’t these INDIMANJE Sacco makangas robbing us in broad daylight? That's not fair at all. This will never happen on my watch, especially with this tough economy where one tropical sweet is 5 bob. Seriously? Talk of bittersweet. I decided you know what enough is enough. I could save some extra 30 shillings by hopping on a train. And do you know what is also awesome? Saving time.Yes. Ama namna gani? Time is money so they said.
I changed my bearing from BS- bus station to Nairobi Railways.
After arriving at the train station, I joined the bustling crowd of adults (I suppose they were coming from their 9 to 5), queuing to buy tickets and get frisked by the guards. So, they don’t collect fare inside the train like the matatus? I wondered. It was a little chaotic, but I got my ticket and followed the crowd towards the train dock. Everybody seemed to be in a hurry.
Confusion set in as people went in different directions. Some were going through a certain tunnel, and others were just going straight to board the train at the dock. Should I proceed through the tunnel or should I just board this train that is staring at me? As I wondered what my next step would be, I heard a soft female voice on a speaker saying: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. The train departing to Makadara, Imara Daima, and Syokimau is leaving in the next 3 minutes... Panic mode! And without a shadow of a doubt, I eventually, boarded what I thought was the right train, hoping for the best.
Anticipation filled the air as I heard Safari njema from the speaker. However, the train didn’t leave exactly after the 3 minutes. I assumed it seemed to adhere to the infamous “Kenyan time,” where schedules are merely suggestions. In the words of Mejja: Masaa na mkenya lazima atachelewa, sana. After a brief delay, the train’s engines rumbled to life, signaling the start of our journey.
A few moments later, a lady approached, clutching a credit card machine in her left hand while extending her right arm towards me expectantly. With a perplexed expression, I raised my shoulders in a silent question, silently wondering what was expected of me. "Risiti tafadhali," she requested politely, her tone indicating a need for something.
“Oh sorry!” I replied as I gently patted my pockets. Nothing. Oh shit. Where is this goddam receipt? I gently stood up to check my back pocket. Oh, thank God! I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to catch, my breath as I handed her the receipt.
She scrutinized it with a keen eye, her gaze lingering on every detail as if searching for a hidden flaw. She made a small cutting at the tip before handing it back and proceeding with what she knew best.
The train made the first stop at Makadara Railway Station. The doors opened and some commuters walked out. The same trend happened at Donholm and then at Embakasi Pipeline. I know these places because I am familiar with Jogoo Road and it's not because I hail from western Kenya. You know what they say about Luhya’s and their undying love for ingokho.
As we continued with the journey, that cloud of restlessness that usually envelopes a person when they have boarded a matatu to a new place for the first time and they keep on reminding the makanga nashukia .... so that they don’t miss their stop befell me.
Wait a minute. Mwalimu wa maths kwani huku ni wapi? I expected to at least start seeing something familiar but the scenery that caught my eyes as I gazed through the window seemed unfamiliar. Doubt crept in, but I brushed it off, hoping I was on the right track.
The journey pressed on until we reached a station where the train screeched to a halt and everyone disembarked, leaving the carriages empty. Surely, this couldn’t be mwisho wa lami. After a moment of contemplation, I decided to get out and approached a man sporting a white Kenya Railway shirt, adorned with a mishmash of brown, red, and yellow symbols.
“Hello, habari ya jioni?” stretching my arms for a handshake.
“Poa sana”
“Nauliza... Is this the final destination ama?”
He gladly said yes. And that’s when my fears were confirmed. Sema kime umana.
“Waah! kwani hapa ni wapi? ‘cause mimi nillikuwa naenda imaraa...?”
“Hapa ni Embakasi village” Oh shit. You got to be kidding me. I was shocked. In Swahili we say kupigwa na butwaa! By this time my heart was racing, and my hands were shaking.
He referred me to the station master where I told him my misfortunes.
“Ayayayayaya, you also took the wrong train. Pole sana. Sasa itabidi ukae pale” he said, pointing to a bench where another guy was seated “Pia yeye ako na shida kama yako.” He advised me to sit and wait for another train in the next 20 minutes that would be going back to town. He insisted that I should alight at Makadara where I would pick up the final train that was coming from town to Syokimau. I hope you are not confused because I also had to seek clarification from him.
“Si bado uko na tikiti?” He inquired if I still got the ticket.
“Yes”
“Usijali, hii hufanyikia watu wengi,” he comforted me as I trudged over to the bench, each step heavier than the last, my shoulders slumped and my gaze fixed on the ground, a silent weight of disappointment settling over me.
I sat at the bench anxiously waiting for this other train that I had been promised would be arriving in the next 20 minutes. After what seemed like one hour ‘cause impatience was getting a toll on me, the train arrived and as I boarded, my eyes fell on a guy quietly seated, clutching a black bag. With a touch of concern, I leaned in and asked, "Are you headed to town?"
“Hapana, mimi naenda Syokimau. Rada. Kwani hii inaenda Nairobi?” Poor guy, another victim of the train shuffle. I nearly laughed at him. We were in the same boat, or rather, the same train. We struck up a conversation and quickly became 'friends'. He shared that he was to catch the 10 pm SGR train to Mombasa from Syokimau.
” Ah, sasa nitafanya aje? Nita pata hiyo train kweli?” He expressed his fears, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Don't worry," I reassured him with a grin “you will get it”. I shared my own mishap and suggested we disembark at Makadara as instructed, where we could wait for the 8 pm train to Syokimau together.
As I finish recounting this misadventure, it dawns on me that the reason the train didn't depart within the 3-minute timeframe was because I was on the wrong train. Damn!
I can see a bright light approaching in the distance and hear a deafening hoot, I chuckle to myself. This isn't a motorcycle approaching, it's my evening train. Let me get ready.
And that, my friends, is the tale of how I saved 30 bob and ended up wasting a ton of time, all because I neglected to ask which train was the right one. Lesson learned: always ask questions and seek clarifications especially when in doubt and when venturing into unfamiliar territory. It’s better to swallow one's pride and ask for help than to suffer the consequences of assumptions and misunderstandings.
By the way, what’s the deal with 30-thate? I mean, that's what Judas got paid to betray Jesus. Time for some holy investigation. Who knew betrayal and disappointments came with such a price tag? Anyway, have a good Friday and an impeccable Easter!
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two trains stood at the station, and I—
I took the wrong one,
And that, my friend, has made all the difference.
-The Train Not Taken-
(Parody, of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”)
As usual, live fully and love wholeheartedly. Remember to live is to love, and to love is to live. So:
Live and let live.
Adiós
Today's recommendation is a title track and the second song, by the incredible Sauti Sol, in their fourth studio album ‘Midnight Train’. So, hop on, play along, and even sing along if you want. Kwani iko nini. Let's make this ride unforgettable:
Very captivating 💯 ...
😅 Funny how you kept meeting people with the same mishap ...
Such an interesting encounter 😂... Pole though...