Joining the “Walking Class”

As I reported last week, I am back in the city. I am now working as a driver which is why I had a bone to pick with arrogant pedestrians. Today am not complaining because I feel much better after getting it off my chest. I am enjoying my time in the city and this time, I have decided not to stay in the village. I have settled down among the real Kenyans.

For those who are curious as to the abode of the Layman, I will share on condition that you don’t start stalking me. I board matatu or bus number 46 which goes to Kawangare. I do not go up to Kawangare itself. I alight at a bus stop known as Amboseli road because that is the road I take to go to my house. Amboseli road is lined on both sides by posh houses with spacious compounds and mature gardens. It is what you would correctly refer to as a leafy suburb.

As you can now tell, my neighbours on Amboseli road are well to do. You can tell this by the nice cars they drive (the kind with factory-tinted windows and electric sunroofs). You can also tell by the well-fed guards who open the gates. Now before you start congratulating me on my newfound affluence, I don’t live on this part of Amboseli road. The first one kilometre is tarmacked and that is the part I have just described.

Amboseli road continues long after the tarmac ends. It is this part where the Layman has his den. It is not tarmacked and in the few days I have been there, I have experienced suffocating dust and slippery mud. You can count the number of trees in this area but you can’t count any flowers because there are none. We are practical people. We only grow what we need. Whenever you hear about the people of Amboseli road, be assured this is the group being discussed.

I know I have described the bus number you need to take to reach Amboseli road. However, a lot of my neigbours (myself included) rarely take the bus. We take “route 11” (which is another Kenyan name for walking). When my rich Amboseli road neighbours walk, they do it in their ‘Nike’ walking shoes and designer track suits. They do it in a leisurely fashion and pace, probably as a result of threats by their personal physicians.

When people from my side of Amboseli road walk, we do it purposefully. We have no special attire so we do it in our work clothes. We also don’t walk at a leisurely pace because that would mean getting late for work. We walk purposefully like soldiers in a marching drill. We don’t know each other so we don’t talk. We take one direction in the morning and the opposite one in the evening. We walk at the same speed so there is usually no need for overtaking. We are happy because we have a job even though we can’t always afford fare in one of the dingy No. 46 matatus.

I live in a plot with at least 200 single rooms on three levels; in several haphazardly arranged blocks. I don’t know anybody yet but I have observed single people, and families with children living in the 11 foot square rooms. My immediate neighbour on one side is a man with a wife and 4 young children. The room on the other side is shared by two men (I don’t know if they have families upcountry). In all the blocks, I find children playing in the narrow verandas but all is usually quiet after 8 p.m.

The working class is usually classified into white collar and blue collar. In Amboseli road however, we all belong to one class. We are the “Walking Class”. We are also the true working class because you will need us to drive your car, do your dishes, walk your dog, and guard you while you sleep. You will also need us to take care of your baby as you go out to make that money that we all need so much. I know Marslow will probably disagree with me when I say that it is us who have achieved self-actualisation but this is the truth. If the happy moments I hear through the wall as the kids welcome their father home in the evening is anything to go by, then I believe I am living among the right people.