Wednesday, November 11, 2015

The Matatu Passenger

By Abraham O’Obunga

Twelve o’clock.
Into the matatu.
Beside me, a ‘plump’,
Behind,
A ‘slim’
With tobacco ridden breath.
A freight train, he is.
The ‘plump’,
Her fundamentals,
On my laps.

‘Your fare!
Squeeze-this space for five’
‘But only three,
Are here!’ I retort back.
Put this-wood,
Between the seats.’

In five minutes,
My back is wet,
With saliva from his mouth.
Amid the bumps on the road.
The matatu is hot.
A cocktail of bad smell.
But I’ve paid already.
Perseverance!
Endurance!

Abraham O’Obunga is a student at Moi University.