As Homework Waited

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When the rain starts to fall it doesn’t seem so serious. It doesn’t look like it will turn into a deluge of water, gushing in alleys, sweeping debris, twigs and later trees, felling walls, breaching and defying everything man had tried to build in the face of nature. It seems like any other time it rained in Africa; a blessing. Because our rain feeds our lives. It turns the leaves green again with life, washes dust off our roofs and roads.  

On the roads traffic built up and then subsided, most motorists got off the roads and then somehow it was just her on the road. Her edging against the brown guttural water, going against this “blessing” from the skies. The clock on the dashboard read after 6pm in glowing blue. Slowly, she nudged her way through the rains, parting the floods with the nose of her car,  steam rising from the bonnet. The wiper waved furiously as she gently pressed her foot on the accelerator, feeling mother nature adamantly resisting her progress which by now had been reduced to 10km/hr.

She was passing a part of a neighbourhood dotted with mabati structures by the road; kiosks and vibandas, small wooden walled structures, a smorgasbord of blue collar dwelling. The sky had turned the colour of old asbestos; a little sinister but nothing worrisome. In fact, her only worry was that she needed to get home in time to look at the children’s homework and make sure they were showered and fed. Especially the youngest  who didn’t feed well in her absence, joshing about with food in her mouth, refusing to swallow without the help of threats, cajoling, bribery and a little loving spank on his small diapered bottoms.

In the car her mind drifted towards the usual humdrum of life; she thought about what she would wear the next day for her presentation with a client. Pencil skirt or the dress with the white collar? Brown wedges or the new high fashion turquoise heels she hadn’t worn since Rita’s wedding? The last time she had worn her yellow heels and blue skirt. She hoped that the crazy bat from marketing with her big nest of hair would not make it for this particular presentation, not with her sarcastic and disparaging remarks during meetings.

Outside the rain drummed harder on her windscreen and the wipers worked even harder for her vision. She could hear the gushing water scratching under her car like a battalion of meleeing rats.  The car radio played a song that her pre-teen daughter loved humming to.

At some point she realised that the car couldn’t move any further so she stopped it in the middle of this raging flood of brown water, sure that the water would abate in no time for her to proceed home. The engine idled. The windows steamed up and she opened her window a crack, letting in the sound of the floods like a bad omen in the Old Testament. She rolled them back up.

Suddenly the car started inching back, seeming to lose its control and for the first time she freaked out . It felt like the ground was moving, that her car had turned into a water vessel. Panic rose to her throat like a dark ball of rainy clouds. She could feel the car literally turning into a paper boat in the raging floods, lifting it slightly and curling the front in the swelling floods. She held tightly onto the steering wheel, fully realising the futility of her actions.

The car was now being swept down the road in rapid reverse even when the gear was on Drive! She let out  a scream, or rather a loud abrupt yelp that now gave form to the gathering terror. Outside, by the roadside stood a group of people who had gathered to watch this freak show of desperation. A pitiful arena that watched nature pitted against man, or in this case woman. They say nature is a woman, a mother even, and so technically two mothers squared it off in the wet ring.

Her hands started shaking. She could hear the water, now sounding like an an animal on heat, thrashing against the body of the car, hugging it in an embrace of evil, rocking it, demanding for it to get out of its path. Then, suddenly the car stopped or was stopped by a hard obstacle. Her bosom frantically moving up and down she swirled in her seat, eyes wild with fear, and stared at the back window now covered with the mist of rising dread. Her heart beat so fast she could hear it over the radio. The crowd – rubbernecks – at the edge of the road had now grown, the men shouting and gesturing. Phones came up to record her. “Oh shit,” she thought, “I will be on Facebook by the time I get home.”

Of course this was when she still had held and comprehended the concept of hope and redemption. She was still in a place where death was still this, this, thing, that we kept away in a dark corner where we all stuck everything that we thought implausible or incomprehensible, the same place we store anything science fiction. This was when she was still certain of the possibility of looking at her children’s homework and making it for the meeting the following day in her turquoise shoes. But terror was still knocking at her door.

She opened her window and saw with increasing panic that the water was slowly inching up her door. The sound was even scarier; this sound she had never heard before in her life, an angry, vengeful and malicious sound. She felt cornered by it.

She didn’t realise how perilous her situation was until water started finding its way into the car. It came in through unseen openings, spilling into a small puddle at her feet. She couldn’t believe that this is the same water she has showered with all her 45 years of life, water she has boiled to make spaghetti, water she has used from a hosepipe to water her frangipani, water that removed the dirt off the backs of her children after school. Now she was getting trapped and imprisoned with it..

Of course she was terrified and her fear was even more illustrated by the massive crowd  at the shores – because that’s what it felt like now, that she was at sea and the rest of watching humanity were at shore. She felt that she had stepped away from the land of the living and now somehow was crossing the Rubicon towards this ominous island of doom. She knew she was in grave danger when she saw the women staring at her cover their mouths, piety and sorrow on their faces.

She really should have learnt how to swim, she thought in those final moments of terror.

She called her husband. It rang eight times – “Don pick up!” – she cried. There was no answer. She then called her father who had taken a second wife and had thrown the proverbial spanner in the family. The last time they spoke she had told told him passionately, “dad, she is my age!” He picked. Oh he picked! The irony wasn’t lost on her.  “Dad,” she moaned, suddenly turning into his little girl not the woman who pointed his errant ways, “I’m going to die!” The father who she hadn’t spoken to in over eight months was alarmed by the premonition in the tone of her voice. “Call Don!” she said over and over in tears as the she felt the cold water rise up her calves. My shoes are getting ruined, she thought.

The car was officially flooding.

People were now screaming at the shore. This could not possibly be happening to her. This was someone else’s movie and it would end. A song was playing on radio now, she didn’t know it then but the song was Waves by Mr Probz. A soundtrack of peril.  

…My face above the water/

/my feet above the ground/ ..

/I’m slowly drifting away/

/wave after wave/

and it feels like I’m drowning/

pulling against the stream/…

The car started to shift again, it spun slightly to the left, and then to the right, the rain dislodging it from whatever Angel that had initially stopped its backward movement. In panic she dropped the phone, and it sunk into the puddle of water at her feet, drowning the voice of her father and her last bridge to anyone who knew her name. Hope waned quickly like evening light in July, the sky taking the colour of a fish’s gums.  She couldn’t swim, neither could the people at the shore, to  save her. She was helpless, trapped between a car and a very wet place.

Her helplessness dissolved into wails. She started banging the steering wheel. God why? Why are you going to let me die in this car like this? Why do you want me to leave my children? Don! Don!

In that brief and fleeting moment of desperation and horror, the  water jerked the car violently and we see her in that final moment, throwing the door open maybe as a last ditched attempt to salvation, maybe with the half mind to jump from this soon-to-be coffin with a number plate into the raging devilish water. And that’s the last we see before the car plunges on its back and the water seems to win, dragging it, swallowing it, sweeping her away like it had the twigs and the walls and everything that had tried to stand in her way.

     ****

I saw that video on social media. A most dreadful video and how ruthless, cold and dedicated death can be when it seems to have cornered you. How people watched helpless as that woman got swept away in that Rav4. I thought about the terror of that moment. The sheer hopelessness of her situation. How many calls she might have made and how many of those calls went unanswered. How she might have known at the final moment that her number might have been up and she was never going to hold her children again, or check their homework again or wash their hair. How they might learn that their mother might have died in the rain, alone in a car she might not have finished paying for. Dying in debt, like we all do. And how Don would spending the rest of his life tormented by those missed calls, the guilt peeling off the weight of his bones and hollowing out his eyes in the ensuing months or even years of mourning.

I wondered what I would have done if I were in the same situation with my children strapped at the back, water was slowly rising in the car, around the feet of those poor terrified and screaming children certain that this was death lurching at the car and eventually it was going to leave with all of us or two of us or – if gracious – leave with only one of us and me hoping and praying that it would take me and leave them because there is no way I could find it possible to be able to live without one of them, not through the guilt and nightmares and pain and the a horde of therapists who open their mouths in therapy but only smoke comes out because surely nobody is yet to invent the language of those who have lost a child.

It’s unimaginable terror.  

I have asked around about what happened to the lady in that car, even googled this incidence: Flood casualty in coast area/ woman in coast floods/ car owner swept by floods in coast/. It’s like a needle in a haystack. I took the futility of this exercise as a sign that maybe by some miracle the Good Lord had interceded and guided that poor woman out of the way of that sticky situation and away from the shadow of death.

I hope that she survived and eventually got home safely to her children’s homework, albeit in soaked shoes.

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134 Comments
    1. Dear Grace Njoki Mwangi (and others in the first-to-comment brigade),

      I hope this note finds you well. And that, shortly after posting this comment, you went back to the story and actually read it. And that, having read and internalised the message sought to be conveyed by Biko, you came back to the comments section and realised that it may have been singularly inappropriate for you to post a self-aggrandizing note – in the circumstances.

      Let me explain. But before I do, I verily trust that you’ll take this in the loving spirit with which it is meant – for we, the gang, as we fondly regard ourselves – are family. And family, at times, must speak rebuke to each other. We are our brother’s keepers. Always.

      Biko and, oft times, other guest writers, offer us an opportunity to view (what would otherwise be) regular stuff from special perspectives. From an angle you never might never have considered.

      In the present story, the guy recording the disaster probably never gave a thought to the possibility that he/she might have been chronicling the final moments of a loved mother, wife, sister, friend or daughter. But we now appreciate, from Biko’s vividly artistic rendition, that many lessons are to be learnt – as much from the recording as from the spectators’ point of view. The subject of the recording was as much a human being as your sister, mother, wife, friend or daughter is! Whatever the outcome of her ordeal (and I pray she made it out alive), she has/d her own story to tell (*read the Desiderata).

      I’d like to believe that the comments section offers (we) the readers an interactive opportunity to either agree or (respectfully) disagree with the writer’s point of view. With spelt-out reasons/opinions. Which may be varied. But reasons/opinions nonetheless!

      Or to offer additional views and perspectives, whether congruent or divergent.

      Some of us, I in particular, will finish reading, internalise an understanding of the message, then seek out comments from the gang to appreciate others’ point of view.

      To say that the first-to-comment brigade completely trashes these expectations, is to trivialise a cogent issue!

      Please read the content first. Then offer us your perspective. And we’ll all be richer and better human being for it.

      PLEASE.

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      1. Where is the Double I Heart This when you need it! Personally I wish we could evict the ‘first to comment’ crowd all together. But Biko says everyone is welcome…so I let it slide. I keep hoping they will grow up.

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    2. I’m sure you did not mean to offend and also joined ‘The Gang” in praying that the lady got out okay.
      @Mr. Biko you have once again outdone yourself, good job Sir

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    3. Yaay really?Here’s another chance to to Please post what you really feel. Now that you have read it.

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  1. Biko, are you now writing horrors? my heart stopped before i realized that it’s based on a true story- then it stopped again.

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  2. Scary as it comes….I can only imagine what she went though and hope and pray that she is fine and even helped with yesterday’s home work and that she got new shoes as well.

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  3. Isn’t it glorious how we courageously live day after day undeterred that our number could come up at any moment and the Good Lord would call us home? I don’t know if its shear arrogance or oblivion or just hope but something stands in the way of man and the reality of death. The woman in the car wouldn’t think of dying at the first sight of rain drops and the Petrichor that builds up in bits. I hope she made it out. And for the rest of us that are still hoping up and down in cycles of life without giving a rat’s ass whether our number is coming up or not, I hope we find time to be thankful for every sunset that finds us in good shape, in perfect peace and hopeful for a better day.
    Good read Biko.

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    1. Reminds me of an accident on Mombasa road where folks were more concerned about the person/truck who which knocked a lady than the life that was ebbing out of her. I decided to take the lady to Mater with the cab I was in. And sadly it was too little too late. Kenyans should value life more than selfies and pictures. Someone I know authored a book called If today were your last day on earth. We should live making the right choices continually

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  4. This is sad. I don’t know who I should be angrier at, the father, Don for now picking up, or the crowd that stood there recording every second of it instead of lifting a finger to help.

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  5. I too pray that she made it. The horror of the social media age is that we film tragedies instead of helping and post quickly so that we can gain notoriety in the face of someone else’s pain. Please people do not drive through flooded areas in this season………….You may never see your loved ones again

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  6. God knows how scary it is to be cornered. The terror and the regrets. How priorities change in that one moment and we just want to live.

    My heart goes outto Don and the young ones. I hope that somehowly she survived.

  7. I stopped watching at when the car started a free sweep, making it almost look like her final ride to death, I couldn’t finish. The helpless crowd. It tore my heart . I hope, with all the hope I can muster, that she survived

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    1. And as you negotiate with the death, it gets more arrogant and shows you just how determined it is. Then gets the final sharp piercing laugh. A dry laugh that with it, carries your life.

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  8. This reminds me of the article ‘death in the night’. So sad that tragedy comes to the ‘wrong’ people.
    Great style Biko; so visually written.

  9. Mother nature ain’t having non of it anymore time to get back to equilibrium, anyone from county 001 tell us what happened, us rubber necking lot love a good sequel and a happy ending where we can grab one.

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    1. Myself am a victim of floods…jst cleard a unit frm port n approchd a flooded roudabt but i realsd to late wen the engine stoppd running in the middle of a jam…it hurts alot

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  10. I can imagine the woman trapped inside the car with nothing left to do. Her only hope; the people watching her. Hoping and praying that they were doing something to save her. Little did she know that they were only documenting her ordeal. Maybe there’s nothing they could have done to save her. But, I can imagine the pain in the woman’s heart, knowing that she was going to die while people watched her die.
    I hope she survived.

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    1. Even more sadder that someone will make her death be reduced to something like type Amen if you won’t die like this in Jesus name. And silly morons will share it allover the world to ‘receive blessings’.
      Why do people still share and like gory images even when it doesn’t seek to raise funds anyway?

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  11. Could not read all through to the end, had to skip to the first line of each paragraph just to get to the end. Sounded a lot like a composition. Now I have to look for something more exciting to read to get rid of this feelings I got from reading this.

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  12. Its not about learning how to swim, its learning how to save those who are in problems instead of staring and recording their incidences. applies in real life. People will look at you while in trouble and later tell your story from a viewing angle instead of helping you out. But anyway who would like to get wet trying to save a woman in a car drowning while they can take out their phones to record the person in agony. SMH! Humanity.

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  13. You have written about the very thing I am usually afraid off during these floods. Especially thinking about my kids strapped in the back. I hope the lady survived. Can someone tell us all what one should do in the event you find yourself in such a situation? I have heard that one should quickly unstrap and open the window with hope that you can jump out.

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  14. We walk around like we own the world and run this place like a game of poker. We think we control stuff. We talk with arrogance and don’t spare two thoughts about the vanity that it all is. We pretend to be in charge and very much geeky about how we do stuff. We DON’T have control. Life is very random. We don’t know a thing yet. We get by things we hardly understand like grace, prayers, coincidence, God’s blessings and our mother’s intercessions.
    The world is dark. We don’t know anything. But maybe, just maybe, it’s the oblivion and blindness of the things that could go totally wrong that keeps us going and ambitious for a better tomorrow. Lest we knew and cut down all the forests for today’s sake knowing that we’d die the next day.

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  15. I also viewed that clip and it was like watching a live horror movie. Now the thing with ranging flood waters is they ferry all kinds of debris.Which means that the rubber necks might have wanted to help but couldn’t. Trust me .. I have lived in Narok and watched as an Indian trader was swept away. It’s traumatic for all.

    1. You’d think that watching an ISIS beheading is traumatizing but when you watch clips of people being washed away by flood water, you won’t find peace easily. I once saw a YouTube clip of tourists being washed away near a waterfall by storm water. The hopelessness they had and sense of finality… Ghastly!

  16. I have not watched the video but I surely hope she survived and if she didn’t,may she rest in eternal peace.

  17. In the face of death we will all wish we were deific, deathless, immortal, infinite; no one is ever fully prepared.
    In that instant we will all say one prayer, “Please oh God, not today…”

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  18. I wish someone tried to rescue her at least, more so the guys who were standing on the right side of the road. They had a whole four minutes to do something. All the people did was just to shout and give her instructions on what to do from afar. It is a cruel world. I hope she survived.

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  19. Mother nature, out on a quest of vengeance……
    How very dreadful to live in what could be the last moments of one of her many victims.
    To actually feel her panic through such beautifully scripted words…..
    I dearly hope she did live.

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  20. I have read this story with baited breath and hope for a happy ending. Biko when you find this woman, please let us know. You could start with finding Don or the father if in deed they are not just characters in this story. Praying that she survived.

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  21. That was a sad incident Biko, those helpless situations i wish i was superman…
    PS; the car was a Rush.
    Mother Nature can get out of control sometimes and it’s when we need to call upon The Father. Good read as always.
    God Bless Kenya

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  22. So sad to even think of the fate of that lady. Or the guilt feeling of the person who took that video and did nothing to help

    1. Chances of a 70kg person serviving a wave that sweeps a tone or so is next to none.. A chopper would do

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      1. they are actually very high, you can survive a two foot raging flood while a vehicle stands no chance

  23. That was a truly sad video for me to watch. Just live right, for you do not know when your time on this earth will end.

  24. I’ve just watched that video on YouTube and it’s horrifying. Especially the part where she opens the door and realizes it’s of no use and closes it again only for the water to sweep the vehicle off it’s wheels and elopes with it.

    Me, when death comes, I hope it comes in form of a bullet aiming for my head crashing it into tiny little meaty pieces. A quick death. Messy yes, but works just fne. I never want to drown or burn or be beaten to death. If I’m to go, let it be quick and painless.

    I hope she is fine though, I really hope so.

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  25. I saw that video. Every time I drive with kids I always ask my self, what would happen next. We got to be grateful for the grace, the gift of life. This piece is timeless, a reminder of how prepared we should be. You never know the time and day. Death smiles at us all. We got to be prepared. Very heart wrenching…

  26. The horror!
    I too hope for a miracle that the current somehow drifted her onto safer ground and she is found alive albeit having drunk some water

  27. I loved this.it was a great read. i was nearly sobbing, i was almost there like a near orgasm that just never arrives but your always just almost there(ladies you know what am talking about).darn it.On a dark day i would have sobbed hysterically anyway…i thought wow this is really good writing from Biko, fictional writing, till i continued to read and realized it had some truth to it and felt bad for actually liking the story, Actually hmmm maybe liking the writing about the story?so now i can’t even say good job Biko coz ill feel guilty 🙁

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  28. No one thinks about shoes or a car at that moment. You just think life…you were wearing louboutins with a bright red underbelly? You can always buy another pair. A car? Let it go. With a good insurance, you’ll have a replacement in no time., an upgrade even.
    Life? Completely irreplaceable.
    In such a situation, you’d be like, “This is not happening!!”
    “Oh, it’s really happening!”
    In panic, you yelp as loud as possible. You thrash in an attempt to swim. Then calm as you realize you’re not winning..resignation, as you choke on and swallow dirty water.
    A prayer..in your mind.
    “God see you on the other side”

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  29. When i watched that clip i could feel the desperation that lady must have been in,facing death with no possible escape route. Please let us know what happened to her if you find out,i hope there was a good ending to it. And that was not a Rav4,it was a Toyota rush/Daihatsu terios

    1. Thank you Kimberly. There’s a time she had a few minutes she could have actually have jumped on the grass.I guess she was so traumatized to even think of it. Sad

    1. http://cnn.it/2aWgjJ7 check out that link this is what they should have done. The ones watching from the sidelines. May Kenyans realize that life is more precious than selfie films of the moment.

  30. Your comment*I have been reading the whole comment section hoping to see someone saying that she actually survived…. Please someone come through for me.

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  31. Karibu nifaint. Then I read that it actually happened and my heart stopped. There’s that message that does the rounds telling us how to break the car window if we’re ever caught in a flood. Thing is, our brains don’t work like that. We panic. I hope she made it.

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  32. Definitely not Chocolate Man, I could tell from the title.
    Be it as it may, I don’t ask to be spared from the angel of death, it is the way of all living. I only ask that when I take my final flight I will be allowed to leave with dignity. No videos on YouTube. No links on Facebook or other social media sites. The inhumanity!!!

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  33. Chocolate man if you ever get to know if she survived please let us know. I saw the video and am still in a daze. Such a horrible death so sad. I could only imagine…..what if it was me 🙁

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  34. My God…I am left with so many questions…this post almost made my heart stop…..scary shit up there!

  35. Nice read Biko. I watched the video-it was scary but I never saw it in the exceptional lens as Biko’s.
    Our so called leaders are grabbers of waterways or watch as the waterways are grabbed…then some fancy buildings/walls are put up. We throw all manner of waste anyhow and everywhere. We don’t unclog our drainage systems. How we allow rain water to run on our roads to run for like over 20M without disappearing into a drainage tunnel is incomprehensible: it’s the reason we have huge pools and rivers on the roads (and potholes) whenever it rains. The late Prof. Wangari Maathai once said that Nature will always gladly adjust to whatever we do to the environment, but as it does, it is very unforgiving-examples abound.
    I sincerely hope the lady survived.

    PS: What happened to the ‘sharing is sexy’ buttons?

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  36. Heart wrenching read that makes one as, is there really nothing that could have been done. Nothing than take sad videos? Throw her a rope, hold out a metal rod?

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  37. My heart skipped a bit coz i could relate to the video as read thru. I always wonder if that is how God wants his people to die.

  38. I do not know why there are people who think the first part was not Biko. Some of my favourite pieces of all time on this blog are fiction. Black Tie and A Nap In The Ditch. I wish Biko wrote more fiction.

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    1. Biko is an acquired taste, so is every author. Avid readers have a delicate palate and can taste when the stew is different. It has nothing to do with the content but everything to do with the style.

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  39. So sad. Not watched the video but Chocolate Man’s description of it gave me goose bumps. Really sad. I hope she survived too…

  40. I saw it too, sooo heartbreaking! For the first time, I have gone through each and every comment hoping that someone knows her and gives us an update… Unfortunately, God’s timing isn’t ours…

  41. See below link:
    https://www.cars.com/articles/what-to-do-if-your-car-is-caught-in-a-flood-1420688856970/

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  42. This is such a gut wrenching read. I’m not sure i caould ever bring myself to watch the video. So sad.
    This moment is all we have.

  43. chilling….as i read the above story i thought of my son and his homework….truly everything under the sun is vanity!

  44. Two things I can’t entirely wrap my mind around:
    One; to be among the crowd, wishing I could do something to save the woman but realize just how helpless I am myself. The only difference being she is the victim while my time is yet.
    Two; what exactly was going through the woman’s head in that most terrifying situation. Did she cry or did she just look straight through the windshiled- talk of eye to eye with death. Cruel.

  45. First of all I also really hoped she made it. Second i love how you use the word “rubicon”

  46. Biko, the reason you can’t find any updates on this incident is because it didn’t happen in Mombasa. This was in Bukavu, DRC.

  47. Those of you who want to see what Really Biko is talking about, here is the video

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qd4dHoKEEbs

  48. I watched that video on my bed just before I slept….big mistake!!! I could not sleep for a looooong time. I kept wondering what i would have done if it was me in that car with my kids. I thought about her and her family. I felt for her family who i knew would one day see the video of how their loved one died.

    When i realized that this piece was about that video, i read in haste hoping that it had a happy ending. Then I read all the comments hoping that the lady or someone who knows her will tell us she survived….no such luck, So sad!

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  49. It was a woman? I heard it was a man, and as people were waiting on either sides of the bridge, people with Prados and Cruisers, he inched on. People kept shouting at him: “acha ujinga, rudi!” “Usiende! ” but he kept on keeping on. My mother told me the story while crying, especially the part when he opened the doors to get out but the water went rushing in. God that man/woman. Poor thing. Knowing you’re going to die of something so preventable os just… God.

  50. I just saw a video the other day about how to escape from a submerged car. And now I am wishing she had watched it too. I hope she somehow managed to get rescued. I have also tried googling the story but have turned up empty. I really truly hope she is ok.

    About Biko’s writing? What else is there to say about perfection?

  51. Reading this now,can’t erase the vivid and morbid images it has created in my head.I sincerely pray that she made it.

    Sigh..

  52. I pray and hope beyond everything possible that she got home to her babies and hubby. I choose not to watch that video coz I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears. Just reading this from Biko has made the horror of it all a reality. This life that we take for granted, is too short and ends in a blink of an eye, coz we don’t know when our number gonna come up..

  53. That was one horrific incident and i truly hope she made it. And yeah Waves by Probz just makes it sadder. Mother nature can really get angry!

  54. I hate watching horror movies and this feels like watching one. I hope it has a happy ending. OMG, I’m imagining being in that situation, face to face with death, and as deaf as it is it doesn’t give a damn on my pleading that, “Not today.”
    I shouldn’t have read this.

  55. If ever you have wondered “how will i Sell my car?” or “what step(s) do i need to take in order to sell my car in Dubai?” then the solution is just a call away! Selling a car in Dubai is tough.