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Diary of a Kenyan Uber driver: Why I will never ever carry a drunk female passenger

By Wamoronjia

Kesi za peeps charged with obtaining chumes wakitumia false pretences zimechrome siku hizi.

Looking at the washukiwa and their relas, those mebele ya mahakama for theft by servant, hiding their faces kaa wamekaa kitako kwa dock makes me wonder? Can you lenga to follow the proceedings and then demand for the court’s version of forms 34B when convicted?

The cab equivalent of the above involves a clayo requesting a ride on her account, but kumbe it’s someone else who’s being picked. It’s so legal that no NGO such as maendeleo ya wanaume can be bothered to form a subsidiary to pambana with that violation of a dere’s right to deal with the account holder. And mamas use that function more than jamaas, says my “big data,” not me.

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So, this Sato night I went to pick a clayo at a club along Kiambu road and as usual, peeps inside a rev with parking take their time before chomokaing. Big up to Wangari for protecting Karura forest against kunyakuliwa. Otherwise, wadhii would be like ushers, waiting for their rides outside revs like they do along Lenana rd/Electric Avenue. When she finally chomokad, she was accompanied by two other mamas, which is how they roll. One has to see and thibitisha who drove her beste mtaani, coz you never know, there’s a cholera of “she was last seen with…”

Once she fell on the driveway like a bale of mexico maize, the groupie began ndrama bila vindeo: oh, “what did you do to her?” mara, “oh, Caro, woiye amka.” “zee, hauendi mahali mpaka tuite makarao.

Oops, kumbe the account holder was escorting, sorry, dragging a beste, an over boozed one at that, who had to be planted into the back seat: “woiye Caro usilale,” she skiziad her. “Mpeleke buru phase 1,” the former told me. Ati if the latter blekid before the destination, “her housemate will give you directions.” Mimi huyo, teke teke to eastlando, but by the time I fikad jam rescue there was no rescuing the passenger, she was gone. Shit, nido? I called the account holder kuhusu the housemate situation and do you jua what her vibe was? “housemate hashiki simu, but mpeleke tu, house number 10.

Watchies already chukia cabs for interrupting their sport pesa wet dreams, but to rock up to their gates with a dead beat passenger would give them the pleasure of freezing me entry as if I have fikad at a polling station past the closing time. Karao station? Out of the question. I want to jaza cash withdrawal forms, not jaza an occurrence book. Hosi? Don’t they demand a deposit before admittance? Then I kumbukad: “goods once sold aren’t returnable.”

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I decided to disrupt it and rudishad the gunia back to the Kiambu road rev. Turns out she was was a celeb coz once I told the account holder I was back with her cargo, another groupie checked in to collect it. But once she fell on the driveway like a bale of mexico maize, the groupie began ndrama bila vindeo: oh, “what did you do to her?” mara, “oh, Caro, woiye amka.” “zee, hauendi mahali mpaka tuite makarao.”  I was about to regret why I didn’t drop the blekid homo sapiens at buru cops, after all, si it was voted the best station to be accommodated in nai county during the 2017 IPOA awards?

Then here comes the account holder: “Caro amka, stop acting!” My foot nyemelead the pedal like the orezzo’s motorcade.

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