If you are living in Nairobi and perhaps you aren’t aware how people are robbed inside matatus,here is a story that would open your eyes.Read it and share with friends.
I’m outraged, angry and lost in thought. It’s my birthday and I should be having fun well I am somewhat celebrating my life being in one piece. I left work early and decided instead of going to town I take a matatu and alight at Kenyatta Hospital. So right outside my work place a mat KAS 253V comes and myself and two other ladies get in. I open the front door and so in front it’s just the driver and I. I mean after reading the story of how a lady was drugged and left for death I was taking precaution. Right? You’d think so but it wasn’t enough I guess. As soon as I’m in the mat I pick a call and return my phone into the handbag and continue staring outside filled with excitement. It’s my birthday for crying out loud. No sooner had I got comfortable with oblivion than we get to Kenyatta Hospital stage. As I start to alight the driver grabs my bag and start pulling while this guy with a kitamba on his head *Mukorino and other guys start jamming the doorway pushing me and roughing me up while another drops keys inside my tee to disrupt me. I ignore and tussle with the driver who I notice now is holding a syringe right next to my ribcage. So I thrust the bag at him and hit his nose so hard he bleeds a bit and then elbow the Mukorino guy in the balls and quickly grab my bag and jump off.
That’s when I notice my bag is open and with it my phone, cash payments from a client and cards. I check to confirm my other phone as the crowd filled with men quickly surround me trying to stop me from taking pics. I notice the girls who were seated behind look unconscious. I start shouting and my voice is drowned by men asking me to “Kanyagia story”, bloody hell.
As I try cross the road I find myself being cornered by several guys so with zero care i run across the road, I’d rather be knocked down at this rate. I run into Kenyatta Hospital and make sure I get inside the hospital. Good thing I have been there enough times so they let me in. So i call a friend who luckily is always on comp and share my icloud to track the phone as I try figure how I’ll get to the cop station.
So I go to the station and I’m kept waiting for almost 2 hours because there are other cases after which the cops have to change shift. Finally I give my statement and this cop looks really understanding. I didn’t get his name but I celebrate him. He was quite understanding. After I get my OB number he sends me to the guy I guess who would be in charge of traffic tonight and here is where I lose it. You’ve never been tested enough until you have to explain yourself to a cop who seemingly doesn’t care. After I give my ordeal he look at me seemingly unperturbed. I explain to him that I need to know the girls are fine. His response “Are you related to them”, I tell him no I don’t know them but we boarded the matatu together and they looked unconscious and I shouldn’t be related to them to actually care about their welfare. Then he dismisses me and continues chatting. I excuse myself and he tells me “kama umereport enda zako. Hio ingine si shauri yako.”
The meru in me is rising like the miraa plantations in my father’s place. I then realise if I react the wrong way I may be put in alongside other offenders �� and go back to the reporting desk and the officer says he will help.
Kindly circulate cz I think it’s a cartel drugging people and robbing women.
I am physically fine just really shaken because I feel the matatus are no longer safe.
