Let It Rain

By Wanjiku Kimani

Like cats, Nairobians are extremely averse to the rain. With even the lightest drizzle, they can be seen scurrying hither and thither looking for shelter as if afraid of melting. A bloom of umbrellas appears and street vendors magically start selling them too. “Mia mbili! Mia mbili!” they shout as pedestrians shove to purchase one. Any shop front with an overhead cover becomes a stopover point with worried faces peering at the stormy sky. Once in a while, a brave soul might dash into the wet to the next shop front thus making their way cautiously to their respective bus stops.

At the stage, you also find chaos with more pushing and shoving in the mad dash to find a seat in the few remaining matatus. The more aggressive passengers can even be seen pulling people by the hair – a fact which I can personally attest to. There is also the danger of being pick-pocketed. With so many bodies packed together, it’s easy for a slippery hand to sneak in and out without one noticing. Makangas – that unique type of entrepreneur are also known to hike fares to exorbitant rates meaning passengers may end up paying more than double the normal rates.

Once inside the vehicle, squashed like canned sardines, the slow crawl out of the city begins. Suddenly, it seems all the cars in Kenya have congregated on that one street, leaving little room for movement. Finally once on the highway, after cruising for just a few minutes, a huge wave engulfs the windscreen, usually followed by the piteous sputter of a dying engine. The flooding on Nairobi streets and its surrounds is notorious, from Nairobi River breaking its banks, to sewage seeping out of dilapidated manholes and sewers. it is rare to have a heavy shower without some flooding somewhere.

So the rain finally eases up and you can literally hear a collective sigh of relief. Umbrellas are packed and forgotten and the running around like headless chickens slows down. Only, the next hurdle is unavoidable and is just as inconvenient as an unplanned shower. The mud is Kenya is notorious – red, sticky and surprisingly resilient, it is the enemy of many a pedestrian. With many untarred roads in the neighbourhoods surrounding Nairobi, getting home is a vigorous activity comparable to doing squats at the gym. Squelching through swamp like patches and dodging puddles, the walk home ends up feeling like an obstacle course. Mud cakes your shoes, inadvertently turning them into platform heels such as those popular during the 1990’s pop scene. Many Nairobians – women especially – carry an extra pair of shoes to be worn once clear of the aggressive muck.

The rain in Nairobi is sometimes frequent and heavy making citizens opt to stay indoors rather than brave it. This is especially true on rainy Friday mornings, leaving city streets desolate with a ghost town quality as employees beg the day off with creative excuses. It is however curious that those same workers can be seen trooping in and out of bars and pubs the same evening, regardless of the weather.

We are a curious lot, – us Nairobians. Hard to understand and even harder to explain. I tend to believe that if the Earth is one giant marble among many, (as portrayed at the end of Men in Black); the alien owner probably gazes down at Nairobi with interest and great amusement at our unique antics.