The stories you will never hear are these ones. One night, I was on the road. It was a dark road. I knew it was but I felt I had to go home no matter the risk. And she was attacked by robbers. Beaten up. Stripped down. And left on the ground to die.
This post comes after 'valentines dammit' so please indulge yourself with the first which I posted earlier before we go on with this one. Why? So that you guys can get your money's worth.
Someone in the background chuckles saying. "but you entertain us for free!"
"what?"
I am shocked. I wear my shocked face with my mouth shaped as an oh and my eyes very wide open. I drop my iPad. What do you mean I entertain you for free? For almost two years I have been writing for you for free? And no one ever says thanks. Thanks Bobby, you entertained me tonight? What do you mean it's like a movie? You hear a nice song from Adele but that doesn't mean you send her an email saying. Wassup Adele, that piece you wrote, wonderful song, wonderful.
Anyways, I should do something about that... This free stuff has gone too far.
But then again. I love writing so... Please go back to Valentines Dammit which was published before this if you haven't by now. Such rebels, haya...tuendele basi.
...the world was in a envelope like it always is at night; covered in complete darkness. The car finally started to behave, I guess when a car gets older that's what it does. It develops moods like periods. Sometimes it wants to move sometimes it doesn't. It want to be pampered and what not. It wants to rest. It had rested. I guess that's why it started moving. But just to be safe I got a breakdowns number just in case I stalled in jam somewhere in the city with all the sad Nairobians seated in their Range Rovers, Vitz and mkokoteni(s) ready to hoot their engine parts out if I stalled on the road and caused some jam. I wasn't taking a chance...
That's what it made me think, from village market to town it behaved, and I started to have confidence in it. This car will make it. Two hours out of town it will. Besides, it's not that late...
"hey, babe, I think I will just drive home...I feel like this car has healed."
Yeah. I don't know why I started to feel like the car had white blood cells and could suddenly get better after a little sleep. Or perhaps I thought the ovacado that fell on the windscreen when it was packed knocked some sense into the engine.
"are you sure babe?"
"yeah...it feels really strong. I will find some place to park. When you see me parked beside the road stop and let's hug goodbye."
I put mine beside the road. She put her's in front of me; I mean the car. I got out of my car. She got out of her's. We met half way. We exchanged a hug. We got into one of the cars. We did a little kissy and touchy.
"sorry, valentines didn't turn the way it should...but I will make it up, Sunday we will go do horses in Naivasha. You will have the white pony, I know you love the white pony."
"it's okay babe, just get home safe."
I didn't feel the goodbye as much. But what could I do? I put on some music and started eating Tarmac to my destination.
The sun left work as I travelled. I listened to x-fm it helped my mood. Rap music is based on the theme of the hustle. Rock has a tendency to sadness and it's too vague. I listened to rock. It made me feel like I was in this world alone. I was in that car alone. No one really cared about me... I could just die and rot alone. But even though I was alone, it was okay cause I at least have my writing. It's my art and it will never fail me. No matter what I go through it will become a good story, I will make it a good story.
But people will only go so far to help you. When you are in a house and there is a raging fire and you are stuck, as much as there are heros, sometimes the situation is so bad they will just stand outside and watch you burn cause they can't help. If you got beaten up by thieves, robbed you and left you in the streets face deformed, you will not notice it's Bobby lying there in the streets all disfigured. You will pass around him, away from him actually. Even that gay guy that noticed I am the one who writes this stories and bought me a beer will leave me for dead. In my defense I thought he was just being nice. I have never accepted another free beer again. Now I get why women can be so cold, a beer is equal to...
Every time I went up a hill I pressed the accelerator harder. And somehow I felt like the car wasn't moving like it should, but I had already done quite a distance from Nairobi. There was no turning back.
It got darker and darker, cars were moving faster and faster, cause it was late at night and the highways are a risky place. That and the fact that cops aren't on the road checking speeders at night. They know the highways aren't safe and sometimes it is wise to run.
I drove as fast as I could going down hill, on flat roads, but uphill, the car simply slowed down. Every time I managed a hill I felt myself breath out.
I was going to make it. Sometimes I felt like the power steering wheel was lose and decided when I reach the escapement or a bridge I would drive slowly. I didn't want to simply lose control of the car and roll of an escapement to my death. Have you seen how high those things are from the foot of the escapement? It's as suicidal as jumping of a plane in the sky.
I didn't want to overtake any car, cause let's say I did, and the car stalled at the overtaking lane. Right there am stuck infront of an on coming bus.
Crush. Dead. Burial. Blog becomes a hit but am dead and can't live to see the epitome of the success of my writing.
I was afraid of getting a head on collusion with a car that would leave people wondering whether I got ran over by a train. But you know that's what happens to sitting ducks. You didn't know? Now you know. I didn't overtake therefore.
But the night turned as dark as a horror movies, and I hate horror movies. I don't think mother nature is really a mother, a mother cant possibly be as cruel as that. It was as if nature was playing a sick prank on me. Just when it was completely dark. completely scary, completely lonely, the riskiest spot on the highway the car went off.
Yes, a total black out. As in off in a way it had never gone before. The dashboard was out. Heck even the hazzards couldn't work. I was in the middle of the road in total darkness. I wanted to close the window, but the window was electric so, it couldn't close. I wanted to open the boot put the triangles out on the road. But the boot is also electric, you press a button and it opens. I pressed the button, and it screamed I am dead, you will be dead soon. I can't believe I kept on pressing the button over and over again.
I was in a mess. I looked at my rare view mirror and I saw light. I knew that was a bus. The speed it was coming at it wouldn't stop. It would simply meet my car which had no lights on whatsoever. Gently powerfully and completely scoop my car with me in it and let me scream my way down to the foot of the bridge. Die like a rat.
Yes, I stalled at the bridge. And it would be an easy R.I.P Bobby, we will miss you, we will miss your writing, even the post that were shit will be popular.
No need for a burial, I would be buried in that car.
But I wasn't ready for that. I jumped out of the car. Left it there, went to the side of the road. Crossed my fingers together. My eyes shut praying that no one hits the car over the cliff like a footballer kicks out off a ball into the air.
I kept doing that. It became like a game, I dash to the car. Before I can start it I see another car in the rare view mirror. I run out stand beside the road.
I was alone. There was no one I could call. There were people I could call who would get me out of the mess in a second with choppers even, but no. I would have rather died than done that.
It was cold. I could smell a murder. I could smell robbery. I could smell car jackers. I couldn't believe it was me at the riskiest spot at night with a stranded car, alone. The bloody way, that's what they should call that spot on the high way. The ghost of death, the taker of life. Surrender to death.
It simply was more nerve wrecking to stand there and do nothing. So I decided I was going to try push the car out of the road.
So, I get in, drop the hand break, hold the steering wheel so that as I push the car the car doesn't steer out of the bridge and I dive with it to my death, at the same time pushing it with my other hand.
The thing about pushing cars is that they gain momentum, and when you are alone, minus moon light you don't know where the bridge starts or where it ends.
I pushed it, it got momentum, I jumped in to press the break. The bonnet was off the road but the boot was in the road. I simply over steered out of fear of the bridge thing. Note the car wasn't now parallel with the lines on the road but horizontal. Yes. Just perfect.
I took out all the valuable things I had, out of procedure. Placed them under the seat. I was okay with them being stolen. I knew I would die anyways, I really didn't care, I had said my prayers, repented. I just didn't want the thieves who would eventually catch me to decide to keep me alive and make me ransom cause I have a nice watch or something. I wanted to be plain. A simple death.
I was in Limuru highway. All I wanted was one person to stop even if they would be in their cars, and shout...
"son, do you need help?"
And I would tell them, "just head to Limuru town and send a breakdown here as you travel...I might get slaughtered and die alone down here, please have some mercy. Help me in that way."
But they didn't. I stood there, not knowing what to do. My blackberry out of charge. Just me and my last breathes, just me and robbers, murders and what not. I hear they are as cold as Limuru nights are.
The Good Samaritan is a story told of a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. This guy was beaten up, robbed and stripped then left for dead. You think times have changed. I think not. The road to Jericho from Jerusalem was a risky spot. Martin Luther King said so himself. He rented a car with his wife and at that spot on the road he saw why the story setting was there. The road was a perfect spot for murders and robbers since early times.
Some Levites passed by, we suspect that this guy thought that probably the guy was faking. He was posing as an injured person so, you in your Big car will be careful not stop, you will even drive faster, cause the roads are risk and if you stopped. You might also meet the robbers who might be hiding. Find out that all the blood that guy had on him was red tomato sauce.
The Priest also decided not to stop and help the guy. But in the story came a good Samaritan. He stopped my friend. It's not that he didn't think that the robbers who robbed him had left him there as a trap to nab another, beat him, strip him and leave him for dead. It's not that he didn't think that probably the guy lying there half dead and in complete pain was part of the gang of robbers. He knew that might be the case.
But he felt the man's pain. He had compassion. What if he left him there? What would happen to him? What if? And that's why he stopped to pick him up... He carried him. Took him to an inn in Limuru. Paid for his stay at Kentmere club. Got a breakdown to toll his car. Paid the toiling track in the tunes of almost ten thousand bob. And told them, if there were more expenses he would come pay.
That's not what happened to me. But that's what happened between Jerusalem and Jericho. Some random guy stopped in spite of all the risks. The risks were there those days. You might think today is more dangerous than those years. But let me tell you, it's the same, they traveled on horses and donkeys. Now we have horsepower car but we still engage in transport and we still have thieves in society who are as greedy as the ones before. They will not be afraid to let your blood drain on the tarmac for your few shillings. One two, enough to spill your blood.
But don't worry, I came out of that, and I tell you this. No matter the situation, no matter whether I will be on a bicycle, or in a chopper and I see your car stalled on the road in the middle of the night. I will be there.
And I will assess the situation. Am not saying I will be stupid about it, I will be witty about it. But I will not leave anyone lonely by the road to die. I will not leave anyone stripped by the street bleeding till life does part with him, if it implicates me so be it, I will try to escape from the implication, but never will I escape from saving a life. Cause that's how to save a life.
I will not think, hey, what if the robbers are still there, what if this is a trap, I will think... What will happen to her if I leave her there, beaten, robbed and stripped?
I will not be able to comfortably say "give him whatever he needs, fix whatever has to be fixed, if you need extra I will pay you when I come back..." if am on a bicycle. But I will sacrifice what I have, the little I have. And no, I will not expect to be refunded like good Samaritans expect to be nowadays.
I hope I will be able to say "give him whatever he needs, fix whatever has to be fixed, if you need extra I will pay you when I come back..." in a Bentley Continental. They have like a Bentley driving school or something. As in you buy a car...and you learn a new to drive the brand of cars.
You can be sure, I will be that guy with a sagged tie. Wonderful black suit and a shirt as white as light, yes, you should also get a shirt that is as white as light, not dull as white as light, well fitting. It speaks. Sipping coffee at 1am in the morning. Driving at a speed that makes my car sound like a jet only that it is down to earth with its features. But not to worry, the cars I will be driving will have the steering vibrate when there is a warm blooded creature on the road. Yes, you can buy one now, they are already in shops but...you know. Those shops need three legs and three arms.
And when my steering vibrates, I wouldn't hesitate to stop. I will get my hands dirty, I will drive back to the nearest town, get a towing truck for you. Drive you to Kentmere, send an engineer to fix your car. Pay for your accommodation. Make sure you are well. And I will not leave my name, I will not want you to feel indepted to me. At times like those you never remember people's names or to ask them for their names.
And that will be my life... I will try to save your life while keeping mine. But I will never try keeping mine by not saving yours.
It's always a risk, the greater the risk the greater the reward. And my reward would be watching anonymously from a distance, a father walk home to his daughter, a mother walk home to her son, a sister walk home to her brother, a daughter walk home to her parents, and that picture will be my reward.
You never know until you have been through it, you might go through it but you ignore it later. But I will be there, whether I have gone through it or not, whether everyone ignores it or not, when disaster happens I will be the fast one in, and the last one out...
And that is how to save a life.
