Nothing beats a proper road trip. And I mean nothing, well to me at least. The wind blowing through a rolled down window, the open road, the scenic landscape…what’s not to love?
Well…travelling with your deranged best friend for one.
Mine was Kev and let’s just say, he was the living, breathing crossbreed between Atwoli and Moses Kuria, sprinkled with a dash of Sonko.
But hey, a true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows beyond a reasonable doubt that you are slightly cracked, and Kev always came through for me.
I went through my pre-trip ritual. Tonnes of water, check. cargo pants and extra t-shirts, check. Wallet, check.
Kev was in charge of refreshments and I was the designated driver.
It was finally time to leave and I stepped into my saloon car, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of leaving this concrete jungle behind. Even if it was just for the weekend.
We had the option of hiring a fancier car, but we changed our minds at the very last minute.
Probably because a little bird told us that it is best to play it chini ya maji, during these introduction events in order to get a better chance of negotiating bride price.
I had mapped out our entire 195km route. We’d go via Thika then Nyeri before arriving at our final destination.
For some reason I can’t quite explain to date, I chose to move around with zero cash.
The very wise Kev also played a part in convincing me that it was safer to walk around with a working phone. “Don’t be stuck in the stone age,” he said.
Anyway, this decision came to haunt us just after enjoying an entire platter of some really tasty fish.
There’s something about a full belly that makes you sleepy.
It’s as if the brain cells take a siesta the moment that sweet ugali settles in.
How else would you explain two guys heading for an introduction with zero cash? and I mean zero. I had even used up the loose change lying around in every crucible in the car to pay for one of those curio ceramic saucers they sell at the equator.
This inexplicable oversight didn’t hit as we did our best impression of the Lost Boyz’ Renee track, which was bumping through the car’s speakers.
We weren’t really in a hurry, so we made countless stops to take in the beautiful scenery and take some photos for the gram.
That’s when it hit us, or rather, my mum’s call did.
“Hello”
“Hi mum”
“Mshaafika Nanyuki (Have you arrived at Nanyuki)? ”
“Yeah mum, we actually just did...tunastretch miguu (just stretching our legs) before we head to the event.”
“Have you done some shopping and prepared yourselves with some bahashas (envelopes) just in case mfukuzwe (you’re locked out) at the door?”
“Uhmmm…not yet but we wanted to do all the shopping and stuff here,” I blatantly lied to save face.
“Sawa sawa, let me know how it goes.”
I hung up and turned to Kev who was still utterly clueless as to our current predicament.
Here we were, in a foreign town on Good Friday, with zero cash and parents to not only meet but impress as well.
I broke the news to him as best as I could.
Kev has never surprised me, as in ever. He has never been the “thinking deeply and knowing stuff’ kind of guy.
I guess there’s a first time for everything, because he actually saved us for once, in a long time.
Apparently, one could withdraw money from M-PESA using the Co-op ATM, which we had passed about five minutes ago. Which meant the fact that there were no M-PESA shops in sight that were open would not be an issue.
We quickly went back to the Co-op ATM to withdraw some money, so we could shop for the necessary items, after which we drove to Val’s (Kev’s fiancee). We were fashionably late. But we arrived nonetheless.
Little did we know what was in store for us…
Val’s dad stepped out of the house with that ‘go back to where you’re coming from look’.
This was going to be one long afternoon…
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