I don’t usually get angered at dusk but this time round the rum shackled, stench filled and disorganized taxis defied the odds to get me to the most excruciating and devastating point.
Not to mention the ever late pioneer buses, all the other forms of public transport sound costly and that doesn’t exclude bicycles because you have to basically take a bath after a bicycle trip from my home to town.
Back to taxis, on top of having to pay more for their services, the driver never seems to put in consideration the fact that your boss expects you in office on time else you risk missing an editorial meeting and apologies are not part of me since childhood worse still my head barely harbors enough late-to-office excuses at disposal in times of critical need.
Then making matters more worse, most of these tin can, porridge headed fools have the worst of playlists which their tiny brains pester them to play at full volume making you wish you could smash it by just sight- (Don’t blame me for such madness, someone called Moses something can make a woman pregnant with an eye-look). The guy’s playlist ranges from wanna-be musicians and rappers to forced Jamaican accents then worst of them all those whose music can’t even qualify for a burial playlist. Do we have genres in this banana republic? one claims to be doing reggae and the next you hear is “kidandali”