True taste of authentic peasant chivalry

Caveat – the use of the word peasant in this piece is in no way used as a derogatory term. The idea is to look for the silver lining in a grim situation. Life among peasants may be difficult, but it tends to be strangely authentic. In the absence of their masters, also known as the wealthy, peasants have perfected the art of making fun of themselves and their situations, and jokes against self tend to be hilarious.

The Kenyan matatu culture and local pubs are where peasantry is practiced and experienced in its raw form. The local bars, popularly known as locals, have, however, been infiltrated by some wealthy people in search of some authenticity. A place they can belch loudly and shout the waiter’s name from 50 metres away.

A place they do not have to wonder which knife and folk is used to eat what food, where they can eat half-burned meat and lick their fingers after. A place where nobody needs to ask where the toilet is, because all you have to do is follow the stench of alcohol-laced urine. A place to let their hair down, literally and figuratively. We cannot blame them, because being in a local makes one feel alive.

Two times within a week while in a matatu, I experienced peasant chivalry in its freshest form. Just as I was about to take a seat in a matatu, a big cockroach emerged from the gap between the back and the butt rest of the seat. Now, I am not one of those damsels that scream at the sight of a cockroach (I do, however, scream at the sight of a rat, or a mouse, but only if they are in the house), but I took a step back.

I may have let out a mild swear word while at it. I am not afraid of them, but neither do I want to have close interaction with cockroaches. Those sneaky things have a habit of taking resident in handbags and then sneak out at night, make their way into your kitchen and start procreating and boy, can they recreate!

They can do worse, like crawl out of the handbag in front of people. The awkward moment is when everybody sees it crawl out, and you know they have all seen it, yet everyone pretends that they did not see it. You cannot recover from that and usually the best thing is to acknowledge its presence by making a lame joke about it.

Back in the matatu. I believe this cockroach had earlier crawled out of someone’s pocket or bag and was looking for a new home. The man in the next seat saw what I saw and immediately swung into action by trying to scoop it with his hands.

Cockroaches are fast. It took him a chaotic minute to get it. He squashed it to smithereens with his foot, then pointed the seat for me to sit. I thanked him, then offered him a wet wipe because those crawlies are disgusting. Chivalry.

Caught in the mess

Second time. I live in an area where there are many flower and tea farms that employ hundreds of people. In the morning and evening, transport is hectic and people just have to ‘love’ one another by sitting as many as possible on a seat, sometimes sit on each other, and those who can, will hang by the door. I avoid those rush hours, but sometimes I get caught in the mess. Like this time, the matatu had packed as many people as it was impossibly possible, but there was one standing space.

A woman who was trying to hang on to that space, but we could all see it was an exercise in futility. First, she was big, and did not look lithe at all. The tout, however, had an idea. “You, give up the sitting space for her,” he told a young man sitting closest to the door. “It’s not like you are going home to cook. You are just rushing to stop by the local bar.” The local bar bit was unnecessary, but we all giggled because it was the most likely truth.

The young man gave up his seat and hang by the door. Tell me what that is, if it is not chivalry.

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