Matatu No. 145

goes directly

to Kenyatta University

After riding the matatu

for many years

a kind of matatu community

emerged for me

There were smiles at first

then nods

then greetings

and soon the 1 ½ hours

were spent chatting with new friends

who faces had become familiar over the years

The matatu is always full

            of students

                        with bags of books

            of mamas

                        with sacks of cabbages and potatoes

            of soldiers

                        with guns

            and many times

                        an odd chicken

                        cackling underfoot

I am the only white on the matatu

And I don’t mind being called

“Yule mzungu”

I could take a taxi

or some other means of transport

            It would save time

But in Africa

time is not necessarily money

Time is about relationships

Matatu No. 145 has transported

many people

into my life