The first time I ate at a fancy restaurant was during my career as a boda boda rider. That era was marked by constant anxiety and uncertainty. But contrary to what critics say about the anarchism of boda bodas, one thing remains clear: that 'kwa ground vitu ni different' (things are not what they seem).
This is how a typical Nduthi guy schedule looks like: We wake up at 5am, wear a pair of heavy jackets, and a helmet to complete the armour. The next step is to arrange items in your pocket in order of significance.
For example, always put your phone inside your left front pocket, wallet in the right back pocket for easy access. Also buy a Bluetooth headset because phones can slip out of hand, and things can fall apart. And for your safety too.
In addition, make sure to carry enough change or you might find yourself in the middle of nowhere in search of the same. The latter accounts for the anxiety I experienced during that time.
It was such that I preferred mobile money because it was cashless, and I was likely to get a tip. Also here are some tips on how to thrive in any money-making venture.
The first step is to control your expenditure, and as a boda boda hustler - whose income largely depended on God's plan - my financial priorities followed this order: fuel, food and fun.
However, it took me a few setbacks to realize I had no definite mode of savings. I was also skeptical about the options available because some had transaction fees that poked holes in my finances.
Therefore, the desire to fatten my wallet made me look for other cheaper options. Eventually, I found out about the Co-op ATM card with zero transaction charges. In short, the transaction was absolutely free.
The first time I used the card was to pay bills in a supermarket. Afterwards, I checked the balance to make sure no finances leaked and found the only deductions made were for the goods I had purchased.
The second time I used it to refuel at a petrol station, and the attendant gave me an expression that seemed to ask "Who is this boda guy who swipes to pay?".
The convenience of swiping to pay felt liberating, and so I connected my phone to my bank account and accessed statements that showed all my transactions, and their cost was zilch.
I had now sealed a hole from where my finances once trickled into oblivion.
In addition, the possibility of buying a second bike grew imminent, but with great dreams comes great responsibility. Because if you want to make them true, the responsible course of action to take is to secure your earnings first.
While in the boda boda hustle, we parked at busy junctions where customers approached us, asked the price, and the journey started. If they heckled, we made sure we convinced them the fare we charged was fair, and that we were simply the best in the game.
But it was no game, it was a zone not suitable for children under the age of 18 years. It required patience that did not always yield dividends.
On one lethargic afternoon, parked under a bike stall - engraved with the name of the MP who launched it - my fellow riders and I discussed matters we thought affected the common mwananchi, when I received a call from a customer who asked me to pick her up from her place.
I was surprised by the call since I usually carried her on weekdays. And she was one amongst the posse of clientele I was acquainted with. I rode to her place against a backdrop of a grey sky. I stopped outside her gate and honked to alert her that her knight in a shining helmet had arrived.
She texted and said she was almost ready, but such expressions usually implied the opposite. She resurfaced after thirty minutes and thanked me for my patience.
I had the urge to chastise her about the delay, but the aura of the happiness she exuded left me speechless (literally).
She was dressed to kill, and I thanked God I had not worn my usual heavy jackets which would have dampened her looks. From a distance, we looked like a young couple on a ride to the seashore for a picnic, and sea shells.
The ride was a long one, but I steered clear of any conversation since everything I might have said would fall to deaf ears because of the draught. I drove through a petrol station to refuel because a rider's worst nightmare is an empty tank in the middle of a journey.
It can only be compared to an empty stomach at midnight.
I stopped, and she alighted and glanced at her watch, but it was time for her to be patient. From the corner of my eyes, she looked at me, and when it came time to pay, I used my Co-op ATM card to hasten the payment, save money and give her the implication that I was a sophisticated service merchant.
I had killed three birds with one stone, something unheard of in the annals of sages. She sat back and I turned my bike on, the destination being a beachside restaurant.
The restaurant was located next to the beach, and we had to meander several streets to get to our venue.
We rode past roadside stalls that sold fried fish, and street delicacies, only identified in Swahili as 'viazi karai'.
The roads were filled with colourfully dressed youths who wielded massive Bluetooth speakers that jammed loud hip hop music. And although the sun-scorched, they seemed oblivious to the fact. The humidity laden clouds hung in the air like the silence that hung between us.
As I took a road less travelled, she broke the ice and asked if I remembered her destination. I nodded in affirmation and asked about the purpose of her visit. I knew it was an intrusive query, but only those who swipe-to-pay with a Co-op card can understand. She said it was the venue for her friend's birthday party.
Then she apologized for the way she delayed me at her house, but I assured her that sometimes good things take time.
She teasingly asked what good thing I had referred to, I glanced at her face in the side mirror, she caught my stare and chuckled.
I knew this move had earned me extra points in addition to those I had previously accrued when I paid with a card like a modern man. In response, she asked if I'd like to join her in the birthday celebrations.
I did not believe she had invited me, but as we approached the hotel's steel gates, I told her I didn't mind being her plus one.
She gently nudged my shoulder and laughed, and we guffawed together. It was apparent that we had crossed past the acquaintance line.
We were now in the one plus one phase because that's how we rode in towards the hotel's parking lot. I parked my bike next to a car that gleamed like a polished shoe. We approached the receptionist where we checked in our names.
We then went through a wide door that opened us to a landscaped meadow scattered with patios filled with weekend partisans. The scene was beautiful, everything was either colourful, organized or sparkled. Even the light bulbs twinkled and soothed the eyes.
We entered a patio and saw a huge cake in the middle of the table that looked like an island surrounded by a sea of drinks, pastry and seafood cuisines. I took a seat, plus a mental note to always remember that the first time I paid bills with a Co-op ATM card and ate at a fancy restaurant - I was a boda boda rider.