The Ditch

   152    
5

He was probably from Kiza. Actually I’m pretty sure he was from Kiza because when I turned into Lenana Road I saw his car lying on its side. I also know he hadn’t been in the ditch for long because the rear left wheel was still spinning. Like in the movies. I was excited. I was excited because I had always wanted to be the first to reach the scene of a foolish road accident like this to find the person inside in dire straits, hold his hand as bright red blood oozes out of his mouth because he’s one of those guys who, on top of driving blind drunk, refuse to wear seatbelts because seatbelts “crease your shirt.” I always pictured myself holding his hand and telling him, “Hey, hey, stay with me a little longer…what’s your name?”

 

“No, what’s your name?” he’d slur with a grin, one side of his face looking numb. I would then ask him if he has any large amounts of money on him. “What?!” he’d try to raise his head, thinking that perhaps this is a robbery. I’d ask him if he has drugs in the car, any type of drugs, at all – ecstasy, cocaine, weed. He’d try to focus on me, but of course I’d be but a hazy voice through his pain and shock and alcohol. He would be fading fast and I would be holding his hand and telling him, “It’s okay. Tell me your secrets now. Do this one thing for yourself. Tell me. Then let go.” Then he would try to open his mouth but his head would slowly roll to the side and I would sigh and stare at him for a while before letting go of his warm hand, switching off his car engine and calling the last number he dialled on his phone. It would ring and ring and finally the groggy voice of a girl would say, “Tim, I told you, you.can’t.come.over.to.my.f*kn.house.period!” Click. Then I would leave him there knowing that he, at least, had a name; Tim.

 

So yes, I was excited.

 

I leapt over the ditch and approached the car from the driver’s side. All the windows were tinted heavily. I don’t know why people tint their car windows so heavily including the windscreen. But then again, I don’t know why people write their relationship status on Facebook. With my legs braced against the sides of the ditch, leaning on the car with one hand, I tried the door handle but it wouldn’t budge. I then thought I’d get a stone and smash the window, but that would be too dramatic. I rapped loudly on the window. I could hear music coming from inside. The body of the car was cold and had small droplets of dew on it. And because the days are now shorter and the nights longer it was still fairly dark and cold but daylight was quickly chasing the night. Finally the window slowly whirred down and warmth, music and cologne escaped the car. “Hi,” he said drowsily.

 

He had his seat belt on but didn’t have blood coming out of his mouth. A shame, really. He was chubby-ish. Maybe early 30s but with a potbelly that seemed older than him. Like he was holding it for someone until they come back from a seminar abroad. A sliver of moustache ran over his lip. He looked like those guys who get kids too early and are forced to be fathers way early. Please don’t ask me to describe what kind of a guy that is. I peeked into the backseat for an infant in a car seat because you never can put anything past chaps like these, he might just have forgotten his baby in the backseat the whole night as he drank in the bar. There was no infant. But the music in his car – which I only remember as bluesy – was to die for. Literally and figuratively. If you are going to die in your car for drinking and driving then you should die with great music on. I think dying to Dj Khaled is not a great way to go.

 

The car was ann off-white or cream Crowne. Bulky. It lay there on its side like a elephant seal digesting its lunch. The gear was still on Drive. He was wearing jeans and a red polo-shirt with all the grand prix paraphernalia on it. He was drunk. Quite. “You are about to have a long day, my friend,” I told him. “I know, I know” he mumbled. “Are you okay?” He nodded and wiped his chest with both hands, like that question made his hands dirty. He fumbled for a bit before opening the door but when he tried to get out of the car the belt held him back and he fumbled to free himself  with no success because he was uncoordinated. I unclipped the belt and held his hand as he stumbled out into the ditch.Somehow he kept saying, “Waah,” like he couldn’t believe what a gorgeous morning it was.

 

I liked his belt.It was a beautiful shade of brown leather, embroidered on the side, with a discreet brass buckle. A great belt to die in, if ever there was any.

 

I switched the engine off and the music died. “You want to call someone?” I asked him. He bent his head in that way drunks do when they are falling asleep at the bar. He was blubbering something, not completely aware (or just not fully appreciative) of the small accident. I moved closer to him to hear what he was saying, taking in his nice cologne. “My cigarettes,” he blubbered. He wanted me to save his cigarettes. Don’t let my cigarettes die in there. Save them!  It’s not enough that he survived driving intoxicated now he had to try kill himself with cancer of the lungs.

Who was I to stop a suicide? I retrieved his cigarettes from a pouch near the driver’s seat where his phone, a lighter, some receipts and a pen were. A bottle of whisky had rolled onto the floor on the passenger side.

 

Have you ever watched a movie when a woman in red lipstick puts a cigarette between her lips and a man (always in a hat) flicks open a gold lighter and brings the flame to her cigarette? I always wanted to do that, even without a hat on. Unfortunately I don’t find myself in the presence of smokers often enough to do it, much as I would like to. That is one of the things that I would regret on my deathbed – that I never lit enough cigarettes for women wearing red lipstick.

 

It might look easy and probably is, unless the lighter has run out of gas then you end up looking dorky. It’s much harder and less sexy, I’d imagine, with a matchstick when the flame keeps getting blown out everytime you bring it to her cigarette and you have to strike the match over and over again until the woman says, “You know what, forget it. Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn’t be lighting this cigarette.” Then you are left holding a sooty, spent matchstick. It also says something about you, as a man. That if you can’t perform a  task as simple as lighting her cigarette with a matchstick, what chance to do you have of lighting her other fires?

 

I didn’t want to light this man’s fires, but I was not going to let pass an opportunity to light a cigarette even though he had no red lipstick. So I handed him one stick, flicked the lighter (it was one of those cheap plastic ones you see at supermarket checkout tills) and brought the flame to his cigarette. The wind worked with me. He sucked at it lazily. Passing cars slowed down and drove off. I then gave him his phone and he just held it in his hand, as if wondering who to call.

 

Let’s see who you can call in such circumstances.

 

The wife:

Well. One early morning in 2010 I ran over a man somewhere off Parliament Road (he was a lawyer going to work – just my luck). His forehead was split and he was bleeding all over my car as I rushed him to the hospital and he refused to have me call his wife. He was afraid she would just “overreact” and make this “worse than you think.” Which made me wonder how much “worse” this could have gotten when he was bleeding like that, maybe even internally. Just how much worse does it need to get for you to say, “Okay, you can call the wife now.” I call it The Great Fear Of Madam. It’s asymptomatic. It just infects you. There are some things you don’t call your wife about – because she will come and sort it out, yes, but you probably won’t hear the last of it. It will be a long song that comes up even on the most innocent of days when all you want is to be a peaceful Kenyan. The good is forgotten by nightfall but the bad? Oh, the bad is held over your head like the swords in the Bible, what were they called?

 

So you probably would understand if this guy called someone else. Maybe he had left the house at 6pm saying that he was just “going to the local to meet my pal for one drink.” How does he explain that he ended up all the way on Lenana Road, 21 kms from his house, in a ditch with a strange man in running gear lighting his cigarette? Even worse if that car is a “family car” that she took a loan to partially pay for. Oh, she will be furious. She will hit the roof. So no. Maybe not the wife.

 

The hatchet man:

This is the guy who buries all the bodies. He cleans up after you. Sometimes it’s even a woman. Actually women make the best hatchet people. Because they understand that everything is details, to mean that they understand the devil. They are calm. They think faster than you. They see the big picture before you do. Plus they always pick their calls. It’s useless to keep friends who don’t pick their calls. You could die and they will return your call during your eulogy.

 

But the hatchetman is a bit complicated when he’s married because he will have to get an excuse to jump out of bed at 5:45am on a Saturday and rush out of the house to help you without incriminating you. His wife will ask questions and he will be forced to say that you are involved in an accident and she will roll her eyes and say “Was he drunk again?” And he will be forced to defend your character even though you have none to speak of because she doesn’t like you, never liked you from the word go (what do people mean by that anyway- from the word go)  and always asks her husband how it’s possible that the two of you are even friends because you are like night and day. She feels like you are pulling her husband down. You feel like she hates you not just because you are an irresponsible drunk, but because you have a moustache she doesn’t understand. But her husband is loyal to you, for now, because you two have been through a lot together and are as thick as thieves. But one day when she succeeds in ramming it into his head that you are no good and you don’t care for progress he will stop being loyal. But for now, he puts on his shoes, throws on a jumper and tells his wife vaguely, “There is an emergency with Tim, I will be right back.” Then she will hate you even more. You know how you know your friend’s wife hates you? When one year you are not invited to a birthday party for his child but Facebook says it happened.

 

The mother:

If you are 33-years old and you call your mother when you are drunk in a ditch after an accident then you have a lot more to worry about than drunk-driving.

 

The Girlfriend:

She is probably in bed with another hour to go before she  wakes up because her Saturdays are sacred; she doesn’t go to work, she sleeps in and she wakes up lazily, makes coffee or tea, reads her book in bed and walks around the house in tiny pink shorts and an old t-shirt until her salon appointment at 11am. The tragedy is that she is probably the type who thinks she will change you. That she’s the chosen one who will succeed where the last 12 didn’t.  That this heavy drinking and debauchery is something that will pass over eventually. But who knows? Maybe she is the chosen one, the one the Lord sent to change your ways. If she gets this call at dawn, she will jump out of bed and come immediately in a full tracksuit and she will squat next to you and be the supportive girlfriend and say with a great deal of concern, “Sweetie, are you okay? Did you have enough to drink?” No, lady, he didn’t have enough to drink. He just had two bottles of whisky to drink.

 

Stumbling on the scene of an accident like this, one involving a drunk driver, pulls my emotions in two different directions; I want to sympathise with the drunk driver but I also want to punch him in the face so that when he wakes up he has a broken nose as a memento of that day. I know a former high school mate who was killed by a hit-and-run drunk driver while running in the morning. I have seen cars driven by drunks chasing each other at 5:30am while I’m out on a run. I once saw a guy negotiate the roundabout at Likoni/Ring Road at an insane speed and from the wrong side! People who are “turnt up.” These are the men who leave the club and rush to get home before the help wakes up to start cleaning the house. These are the guys that kill you on the road as you are running.

 

They will fall asleep at  the steering wheel and the car will go off the road at 90km/hr and you, poor you, up early to run, will feel that weight of hard solid metal in motion ramming into you from behind, briefly hear your own spine snap in two as that car, a whole 700 kgs, tears into you, flipping you over its roof and you hit the road with a thud, perhaps breaking your neck as a result. Then you will lie on the dewy roadside and think of your children or your mother or your lover or how annoyingly simple and quiet dying must be. You will die and he will live. He will stumble out of his car. Or he will drive away. He might bribe a judge because his father knows the right people. Your file shall not be found. Your case will be buried like you. And the next week he will be in the bar with his friends again, asking if they can throw another rao.

 

So I felt little for this guy on Lenana Road. Very little. In fact, I wanted to steal his belt. If it weren’t Sabbath, I would have. I removed his car keys from the ignition and placed them on the dashboard because I knew he wouldn’t be able to stick them in the ignition given his condition. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to stick anything anywhere in his condition.  “Call someone,” I told him and left him there still mumbling “Waah.” I had a 10km run to complete. On my way back some 45 mins later, there was a private security van near his car trying to tow it out, and with about four uniformed guards around.

 

He probably slept it off and recounted to his pals the drama of that early morning and they all laughed and said “Waah.” Then they made plans to meet again in the club or bar. Because they are invincible and the car always knows its way home.

Leave a Reply to abdullah omar Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.

5
152 Comments
    1. “If you are 33-years old and you call your mother when you are drunk in a ditch after an accident then you have a lot more to worry about than drunk-driving.”

      58
      1. Maybe early 30s but with a potbelly that seemed older than him. Like he was holding it for someone until they come back from a seminar abroad. Lol.

        46
  1. It’s useless to keep friends who don’t pick their calls. You could die and they will return your call during your eulogy….true

    87
    1. That potbellie must be a classical, to seem to be holding it for someone??? Hahahaha.. My ribs..
      Drunk driving is a no no…
      Nice read

      2
  2. Be nice Biko, let us upload our relationship status in peace. People need to know, that’s our way of shoting on the mountain tops about our undieing love. It’s sad that cars know their way home after a night of drunkenness. People need to treasure their lives more and grab a cab, no need to die like that, You can’t go to heaven with alcohol breath, the gates may just not open hehee.

    65
    1. Quite true. A drunk is carried to the car, on the driving seat and the rest becomes history. That’s the belief, narrated jokingly but believed like gospel.
      Driving home in near comatose is a good story to say later.

      1
  3. I didn’t expect this story to end this way..maybe its actually time I went on to read the book “Drunk”. Never saw its reviews by the way…kwani the people who read it never had a thing to say about it?

    45
    1. Drunk was a nice book. But it ended just as this story ends…it will leave you looking for Biko to give you answers

      4
    2. haha i read it n had alot to say which i did on twitter..intriguing read which leaves you wanting more.

      1
  4. If you can’t perform a task as simple as lighting her cigarette with a matchstick, what chance to do you have of lighting her other fires?
    hahahaha…
    “Sweetie, are you okay? Did you have enough to drink?” No, lady, he didn’t have enough to drink. He just had two bottles of whisky to drink.

    Waaah!

    30
  5. “Infact he would not be able to stick anything anywhere in his condition”Very well written article on the scourge of drink driving, out drinking with your friends, designate a driver or call a cab.

    16
  6. Yaani that dude was concern more about the cigarettes than the car? Why? I have heard drunk people saying the car knows the way home but it really does not. On the list of bad accidents are drunk drivers then intoxicated drivers then sleep deprived people and then amateur drivers. It pains me that of all these drunk drivers and intoxicated people would walk away free because they are the chaps that are loaded enough to buy justice or whose parents know people that make things happen. But karma is a bitch. In time.

    44
    1. Top on that list and even worse than drunk drivers are people who drive when pressed.They are worse than drunk drivers.Its a scientifically proven fact

      14
    2. …drunk drivers, sleep deprived people, amateur drivers…..and then the bullies. These are the guys that have made it impossible for me to finally sigh up for those driving classes. The many times I have frequented Rocky and telling those guys I will come back later are uncountable…

      1
    3. I feel you bro. I though Biko said it was a crown. Whether royal or athlete, that is a moti to care for. And the bugger asks cigarettes. Priorities in the wrong things.

      If I was God, I would effect a parable in the new testament where some stuff was taken away from one and given to another. I would get that crown for me.

      4
  7. Young men with potbellies sure do look like they’re holding it for someone!

    It just occurred to me, I am mostly the hatchet guy. The number of times I’m called T odd hours to bail people out of jail, pick up drunks, bail someone out of some money trouble…

    I am disgusted by drunk drivers. I lost a friend in 2016 from a hit and run too. She was driving from her evening class ( those ambitious lasses who study, work while they’re still young and you would not be surprised if they became the first female president). Some drunk guy hit her car, reared it into a telephone pole, the pole fell on her car killing her. Do you know what her family got? A call to identify the body, a dead daughter, shattered hopes and dreams, a distorted car and unexplainable heartache. Do you know what the drunk got?
    Missed the same fate by a whisker, managed to run off and maybe guilt. Because I am sure he read about the death on the internet somehow or somewhere.. .

    33
    1. Drunk driving is just the height of irresponsibility. The culprits shd be shot in their skulls.
      Great read Biko.

      1
    2. Drunk driving is the height of irresponsibility. The culprits shd be shot in their skulls.
      Great read Biko.

  8. “If you are 33-years old and you call your mother when you are drunk in a ditch after an accident then you have a lot more to worry about than drunk-driving.”
    Mothers will be mothers. Better to call them then, when one is drunk but still alive, rather than they being called to the mortuary to come upon their child motionless with a trickle of dried blood oozing from the mouth. That image never quite leaves, can’t be unseen, and mothers being mothers weep for their children for a very long time.

    “It also says something about you, as a man. That if you can’t perform a task as simple as lighting her cigarette with a matchstick, what chance to do you have of lighting her other fires?”
    Pwahahahaha..

    9
  9. I feel nothing for drunk drivers. They shouldn’t be just punched but kicked on the backside as well. The tragedy in this country is that there are some people who buy cars so that when they go drinking they won’t have to beg for lifts from their drinking buddies. Slap them as well, 4 times, it’s the number of letters in the word Taxi and Uber.

    19
  10. Waaah!! . You and me biko, about lighting a cigarette for a lady with red lipstick.
    Also, this ‘Waah’ guy doesn’t seem like he’ll have any story to tell his friends. He won’t remember a thing from this incident, but he’ll call all his friends, anyway, ask them to meet him at the ‘usual’, so he can tell them about this day. But, all his poor friends will get from him is a ‘You guy, waaah! I tell you, it was crazy. Waaah!’. And of course a rao of drinks, because, how can you celebrate surviving a drunk-driving accident without drinks.
    Great read as usual!

    12
  11. ” That is one of the things that I would regret on my deathbed – that I never lit enough cigarettes for women wearing red lipstick.”

    How do you ever think of stuff like that…?

    You are a CRAZY ONE, dude.

    Cheers!!!

    4
  12. …..with a potbelly that seemed older than him. Like he was holding it for someone until they come back from a seminar abroad

    2
  13. Don’t drink and drive. Kenyans will never learn. Its so sad when innocent people lose lives due to negligence driving. On Saturday, I arrived passed by an accident scene on the Embu-Meru highway past Mwea. It was clear that the guy who caused it was trying to overtake. Kama una haraka, travel the previous day or utoke mapema as the cock crows. Such careless drivers deserve a good beating/punch on the nose.

    6
  14. Kenyan binge drinkers have no conscience. It’s so sad to see grown men unable to break out of that binge drinking cycle, like boys forever stuck in teenage.

    5
  15. “I removed his car keys from the ignition and placed them on the dashboard because I knew he wouldn’t be able to stick them in the ignition given his condition. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to stick anything anywhere in his condition.”
    Biko…be kind to smokers …they have little time left.

    6
  16. I know Kenyans drink every day but there is an alcohol saatan in the air on Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights… You get high and you still want to drive!!
    Wah!

    2
  17. I get peeved by these drunk drivers… its one thing to endanger your own life but when you take other innocent souls down with you, not so cool….

    4
    1. Call a bloody cab people its cheaper than a sensible bottle of Whisky nkt.Great PSA piece Biko, but you should have called the coppers on the bastard!

      3
    1. Scared….try Langata road for effect…its the Hollywood of drink driving and its aftermath. Its disgusting what you encounter on early Saturday morning runs…Wakenya na Pombe. We need help!

      1
  18. A moment of silence for our loved family and friends we’ve lost to (a) drunk driving.
    A moment of silence for hit and run drunk drivers. Who were never prosecuted for their inhumanity.
    And a prayer for drivers who are yet believe that drinking and driving does actually kill.

    6
  19. I don’t know why people write their relationship status on facebook, I also don’t understand why people post photos of new borns on Facebook.

    6
  20. You mention DEATH and DYING a lot in this article Biko. I hope those that need to read between the lines can clearly connect the dots. I personally don’t drink but surely in this day of Uber, Taxify, Little Cabs, Mondo, etc. I think it a most selfishly stupid thing to get behind a wheel when inebriated. If you don’t care about your life don’t take others out before their time. I would have punctured his tires that bastard! Probably lit his car on fire with that lighter too. . . but you cannot burn stupidity away…

    11
  21. ” So I felt little for this guy on Lenana Road. Very little. In fact, I wanted to steal his belt. If it weren’t Sabbath, I would have.”

    2
  22. Those swords in the Bible are called Domocles? And how are you Biko? Time for a sober fam trip….oh, and before I go, there was ‘that guy with a potbelly, like he was holding it for someone on a seminar abroad’…. haha.

    3
  23. Call a bloody cab people its cheaper than a sensible bottle of Whisky nkt.Great PSA piece Biko, but you should have called the coppers on the bastard!

    1
  24. The bigger tragedy that we do not talk about in this country is that we are drinking ourselves into oblivion.
    Drunk driving is a big tragedy.Its a chicken and egg type of situation. I lost a limb and a few broken limbs to drunken driving many years and the funny thing is that instead of learning from that years later I used to do the same thing because if I wanted to drink and drive si it was my body and si it was my money.
    We are drinking ourselves into oblivion.

    2
  25. If you are going to die in your car for drinking and driving then you should die with great music on. Waah!

    1
  26. It’s useless to keep friends who don’t pick their calls. You could die and they will return your call during your eulogy.

    That’s me…I really need to change..I really need to and coz I listen/read to you Biko I will document it as part of my 2018 resolutions… be better at it!!!!

    5
  27. Jacko man, you should have smucked the waah out of the guy, probably he will ran someone down over the weekend n all he will have to say is ‘waah’

    3
  28. What a story ! Drunk drivers are scum. Last week I lost a former classmate to a road accident. We need to change.

    3
  29. A good read as always Biko… I love the message passed on as well..
    People should stop drinking and driving may all the souls that lost their lives due to such a menace rest in peace

    1
  30. Hehe Biko. I always admire belts, I guess this is from my highschool. Cool kids used to wear fancy belts, kwanza the beaded ones, and I had this old one made from unprocessed leather. So last year I bought a smart belt with ‘It doesn’t lick itself’ printed on the buckle. Surely, even on a Tuesday you can’t steal it.

    2
  31. If not for the thought of holding the lighter…Biko you would have slapped that guy to sanity…Anyway to me it’s still a sin and will always be.DRINK-DRIVING is still a sin.Good note on this.It’s one thief that is stealing good and bad souls alike. Nevertheless,a good read .

    http://oaknation.co.ke

    1
  32. I am the hatchet , drunk driving won’t stop until the other end is stopped,the bribed Judge,influential parent thing,bribed police.

    1
  33. And to the bast***ds who sued against alcoblow so that they can continue killing us on the roads after their drinking binge…Mungu anawaona.
    An to our city planners, we need our pavements and sidewalk bollards to keep us safe from the drunk drivers rushing home yet in that state….”he wouldn’t be able to stick anything anywhere in his condition”.

    2
  34. It’s useless to keep friends who don’t pick their calls. You could die and they will return your call during your eulogy. waah

    2
  35. The first two paragraphs were savage though Hahaha…. Anyways, really great penning, I hope the guy learnt his lesson waaaah!!
    Plus you should have stolen his belt

    1
  36. `waah` just like in Wambilianga of Churchill. `waaaah`

    ———————————————————————————————-

    “It’s useless to keep friends who don’t pick their calls. You could die and they will return your call during your eulogy”
    You know what ? block such guys so that when they call you, they just make a miss. Then when you really need them you unblock call and block again.

    2
  37. Friends who pick calls well noted
    I had to go into your archives to read about you hitting a man it’s two articles actually and that was a long time ago
    That guy should really call the hatchet man he’ll just clean up the mess and never be spoken about again. Well that’s how I do my cleanups
    I say waah alot during trouble
    Also leave the people who update their relationship status it’s their right I guess

    1
  38. Drunk drivers are the most selfish people. And when they die in a crash caused by their drunk state, it is the most selfish death in the history of death. If you can afford to buy booze, you can afford to pay for a cab.
    Good read Biko, I love the humour as always.

    2
  39. ‘Waah…’ Like …. “that was close!”

    ‘ You could die and they will return your call during your eulogy’.

    How about the line ….’ they understand that everything is details, to mean that they understand the devil’?

    But drink-driving is claiming more and more lives by the day. It seems all of us here knew of/is related to or was acquainted with someone who was killed by a hit-and-run drunk driver. I happen to have two – a friend’s sister and a former colleague. The latter was out on an early Sunday morning jog – never to return to his family – while the former was walking to Church! Family members found the bodies at the City County morgue after several days of searching! I don’t know what prevented you, Biko from punching the dickens out of that moron; your pity for him or fear of offending the Lord seeing as it was a Sabbath?
    Great read, as always!

    1
  40. Waaah!..

    This is the only word you hear on Sunday mornings, from onlookers, along the Thika superhighway.

    2
  41. Quite sad..I still can’t comprehend why people decide to drive under influence not unless they are on a suicide mission..pains alot as other innocent road users end up being the collateral..

    1
  42. Just like you Biko I feel nothing for drunk drivers. In fact those guys upset me coz everytime I see one I don’t know why but the feeling of them killing someone hits me instantly.
    Good read as always man

    1
  43. From the word go got me laughing there. It simply means kuanzia mwanzo. I think it’s a direct translation.
    I too have a friend who was hit by a drunk driving lad. Luckily he lived but he lost parts of his body. Drunks should just take a cab after they drink. This is what should be advocated for by eabl like daily…

    2
  44. Very wrong & distrurbung.

    It’s even worse when you have someone close to you that has that habit of driving when drunk, yet very aware of the danger of it.

    The unwanted worries and mini-heartattacks of when you hear people talking of an accident that involved a drunkard are a big torture.

    It is so helpless when you cannot make a decision for other people, but just advise & painfully have to let them be.

    2
  45. Can’t make up my mind about who I dislike more; drunk or texting drivers.
    The hatchet man: I highly recommend the TV show Ray Donovan.

    2
  46. The problem with people who claim that the car knows home is that they don’t realize that they put other people in danger. It would be nice if they would get maimed or killed alone but the way the world is set up, the rest of us sane people are constantly at risk of people who make stupid decisions. This story reminds me of the drunk guy who killed a watchie in Runda and he was shamelessly and drunkenly saying that his car also got hit.
    Also, you should have punched that guy before leaving.

    3
  47. I think the real question is, why were you running at 5:30am? I don’t trust people with such tendencies waaah

  48. If you are 33-years old and you call your mother when you are drunk in a ditch after an accident then you have a lot more to worry about than drunk-driving.

    1
  49. Njogu was his name. The lawyer you hit sometimes back. I remember the turban jokes you made. I love that story, especially how the Godfather reacted. Speaking of godfathers, I have just cleared ‘The Godfather by Mario Puzo” and I loved the ending. Surprises.

    I think DJ Khaled is played in heaven. Like the angel at the gate has the “Another one” soundtrack to announce a new entry. So I guess Khaled’s is the right music to die listening. Gives continuity enhancing settling in or whatever up there.

    The good is forgotten two minutes after. The bad we record in our book of remembrance.

    2
  50. Waah! First I’m keeping off red lipstick. Second I’ll try and stop saying reacting with Waah to every situation. Amazing piece! Waah!

    1
  51. Tipsy
    Drunk
    Sober
    and this constant.
    “Because they are invincible and the car always knows its way home.”

  52. Good writing Biko. I paid for the book but I am not able to get access because I get the codebase error. Is it possible to get it on my email?

  53. It’s already hard enough to get behind the wheel after a long day at work, why anyone would choose to drunk drive absolutely beats me, I mean do whatever it is you want with your life but when there’s a chance you might hurt someone else in the process……… whhhyyyyyy???

    1
  54. The drunk driving is not only reckless but also very imature of him.have to say you went to a dark place at some point in the narration

  55. “I don’t know why people tint their car windows so heavily including the windscreen. But then again, I don’t know why people write their relationship status on Facebook.” – kerfuffle read ‘covfefe’

    1
  56. Waah! Nice read.

    These people who say ‘the car knows the way home’, how did they come by this belief? How can your car know the way home, is it a dog? Who invented that lie?

  57. Drunk driving is here to stay as long as our law enforcement agencies are weak and are easily compromised!
    Watching the stunts pulled by drunk drivers at “alcoblow centres” on the roads is like watching a horror movie.

  58. Stupid Man!You should have taken a pic of the crime scene specifically his plates and sambaza them online anonymously. Citizen action is what we need in this country.

    Superb read as always!

  59. Maybe early 30s but with a potbelly that seemed older than him. Like he was holding it for someone until they come back from a seminar abroad. ha ha ha ha oh my lord. This was my highlight

  60. I’m 3 days late for this read but i cried because i know someone who died from a reckless accident and i sadly wouldn’t feel anything for a drunk driver lying in a ditch

  61. The bit of the car being a family investment is so real! I am always forced to be extra cautious about the things mama and I buy together.

  62. And I happen to have ‘Tim’ for an uncle back at home.At times am left Wondering,is there sort of force, of course demonic, in drunk driving given that my uncle has escaped death in whiskers enough times?We could say God still buys them time.Its unfortunate.. keep praying for such.

  63. Just had this random thought of DJ Khaled. yelling ‘Another one! ‘ as you enter heaven or wherever people go when they die

  64. You avoid booze, red meat, drink water and sometimes you run very early in the A.M. Then what? A man who eats red meat, doesn’t hydrate, drinks and drives while drunk can run you over and you are dead. This life is so unfair! Waaaaaah!

    2
  65. My library Capt. May he continue to RIP. I tell you, working out then a drunko out of nowhere snuffs out your life. Sad. Great writing Biko!

  66. I mean … alcohol was there before you and will be there after you. I never understand how these drunk drivers do it again and again and again… “Hii gari inajua kwao”. Well gone are the days when our fathers told us that and we actually believed them because these ninjas would manage to parallel park trucks even when intoxicated at 3AM, Now? Times have changed. I don’t think they drank 3 bottis of Johnny Walker and several shots of tequilla every night like somebody had just forgiven their huge loans, then drive all the way from 1824 to Utawala @ 120Km/h 🙁 Our generations are different. I remember I once had mixed reviews about the EABL ads that had that tagline ‘Life goes on when you’re gone’, now, now I agree with them.
    It’s worse off and very hurting especially when innocents fall victim of this idiocy and the perps get away with it. 🙁
    Stay safe.

  67. It also says something about you, as a man. That if you can’t perform a task as simple as lighting her cigarette with a matchstick, what chance to do you have of lighting her other fires?

  68. Awesome read Biko! I wonder if you hear the flame in your cigarette lighting fantasy as it comes alive in 120fps kind of slow motion.

  69. always a pleasure reading your articles Biko, though i do “borrow” a few vocabulary hapa na pale hehehe…viva!

  70. always a pleasure reading your articles Biko, though i do “borrow” a few vocabulary hapa na pale hehehe…viva!

  71. What a perfect piece of writing. It left me fascinated and yarn to read much of it. It had rightfully depicted the face of our society.Massive destruction,
    Dj Khalid should produce more songs to smoothen the journey of the drunkards to hell.

  72. I’m that friend who doesn’t pick calls…because i forget i own a phone sometimes. So don t attack me and my kind too much. This waaah guy….he needs to learn his lesson. Too many people dying because of guys like him who put too much trust in a car’s way finding skills. You should just have taken the brown belt and probably sold it to the black market at some throwaway price. So that he knows he lost his belt the last time he drove drunk. It might be the lesson he needs ….you know how some guys can get with their belts