Matatu madness

By law, the laws of the Government of Nairobi City County that is, matatu culture is banished from all streets on the wrong side of Moi Avenue. What you are likely to find that come close to approximating the illogicality of matatu culture are owner-operators of the Kenya Taxi Cabs Association. The ones who call Harambee Avenue their bailiwick have an illogical arrangement that sees them occupy an ill-defined share of the parking slots outside Jogoo House "A" (or is it "B"?) and, every now and then, they perform a pantomime which I guess ensures that the right taxi cab is at the front of the line.

Matatu culture and all that is associated with it is to be found in the less office-building-y bits of Nairobi: Moi Avenue, Tom Mboya Street, Ronald Ngala Street and those almost-forgotten parts (did you see how surprised your governor looked when he found out that Luthuli Street still exists?) of the Business District that are definitely not part of the Central Business District. Ronald Ngala especially offers a glimpse of what matatu culture means: chaos, heat, danger, noise, dust, traffic jams - massive traffic jams.

If you want to test your urinary tract's fortitude, here's a simple experiment. Consume a larger-than-normal volume of liquid libations as close to five in the afternoon as you can, then board any of the buses bound for Jogoo Road from the Ambassadeur Hotel. The stretch between the Ronald Ngala and Moi Avenue junction and Nyama Kima will put your urinary bladder to the test, because at that hour, God Almighty turns his attention away for a moment and Lucifer and all his helpers take over traffic management on Ronald Ngala. He seems especially eager to interfere with the mental faculties f of the crews of the Thika Superhighway-bound Paradisos and Virginia Coaches that have turned the stretch between "Tusker" and Nyama Kima into their permanent terminus, stationary, idling, belching immeasurable quantities of diesel and sulphur, baring their horns every seventeen and  a half seconds and generally scaring the bejeesus out of the commuting and non-commuting public. At five, whatever business you had along that stretch of Nairobi traffic is best handled on foot; leave your motor vehicle in the relatively safe zones on the other side of Moi Avenue.

On Ronald Ngala is to be seen the true manifestation of matatu culture: chaotic, violent, inconsiderate, loud, dirty and dangerous. What the defenders of matatu culture are attempting to camouflage with their hagiography of matatu graffiti will not wash with the armies of commuters and road users who are daily inconvenienced by the often violent chaos exhibited by the unrestrained owner-operators of matatus. The scenes on Ronald Ngala Street are replicated on dozens of streets in the Business District and sometimes they result in grave tragedies. Matatu graffiti may be a part of the culture of this vibrant city but it should not be used as a figleaf to hide the naked violence and chaos that that matatu industry exhibits.