A dear friend here, Jackson Atsango, had been talking about
venturing to Eldoret to do some ministry there.
I wasn’t paying attention to the dates of the trip but realized I had
only a day and a half after arriving back from Eburru to get things in order to
go.
I will be honest and confess that I
did not have everything in readiness upon the time to depart, but the Lord was
gracious in His dealings with us.
Friday
night, after teaching at the school,
Jackson
came by with the announcement that we would be leaving in ten minutes.
I was only halfway packed so I threw in the
remaining items, knowing not whether I would need them or not.
We hiked down to the matatu stage and jumped a van bound for
the bus depot.
Our bus was to leave at 10:00
pm but would be boarding at 9:30 pm.
The
matatu took us to our destination in downtown
Nairobi and we arrived in ample time to board
and get settled in.
By great foresight,
Jackson bought our bus
tickets in advance and selected the front two seats of the left side of the
bus, ensuring plenty of leg room and no chance of claustrophobic
reactions.
As we settled into our seats,
the other passengers filed on, all conducting unknown business in our final
destination of Eldoret.
Just prior to the bus pulling away, a fellow boarded the bus
who was terribly hunched over, staring blankly into the rows of seats and
drooling slightly.
I was confused at his
appearance and then it became evident that he was drunk beyond all proper
definitions of the word.
He was escorted
to his seat by the bus conductor and I was wondering if he would pass out on
the way to be seated.
The bus left the
depot with a jolt and we were on our way to a place that I had never dreamed I
would go.
Around thirty minutes into our transit, I noticed a dark
suited figure approaching in my periphery.
The lights on the bus had been turned off but the passing headlights
revealed the face to belong to that drunk fellow who nearly missed the bus.
He began complaining in Swahili to my traveling
companion and was redirected to the bus conductor.
In asking
Jackson what he said, he revealed that the
man was saying he had no seat and in his drunken stupor thought that he was the
bus conductor.
Someone in the meantime
the drunkard became unsatisfied and sat down in the aisle of the bus, refusing
to move in an almost childlike posture of pouting.
The bus conductor was able to get him up and back to his
seat, only for the
same process to
be repeated several more times over the next hour.
I could not understand the heated
conversation in Swahili other than the fact that if he didn’t shape up, they
were going to leave him on the side of the road.
As we neared Naivasha, the bus driver pulled
over at a police check point, dismounted the vehicle and explained the
situation to several policemen.
A rather
large Kenyan man entered the bus and began speaking with the drunk man who
refused to leave the bus.
After the
policeman forced him out of the bus he became very humble and apologetic yet it
was too late.
They put him in the local
jail for the night that he may become sober and find some transport the next
day.
We had already lost one passenger on the trip and I wondered
what other kind of nonsense would ensue during our trip there.
The blackness of the night did not permit any
views of the surrounding land other than the knowledge that it was vast and
spacious.
However, the headlights did a
good job of illuminating the pothole filled road which the driver had a
difficult time dodging.
Due to the quality
of the road and the elementary skill of the driver, sleep did not come which
was a small problem as we were to begin ministry early in the morning.
The time passed slowly but provided ample
opportunity for thinking about life’s important questions, like what would
happen if someone were to splice the DNA of a mosquito and an elephant, or what
if a giraffe really did get a sore throat, what then?
Anyhow, at 6:00 am on the nose we pulled into
the bus depot in Eldoret.
Little did I
know the adventure that would be waiting around the corner.
