When iCon was about the size of a puppy on its hind legs, I used to be scared of the downpour in Nairobi. Then one day some corny old man said “Those are God’s tears of joy. It seems we have made him proud.” Cheered me up for about 1 week.
You see a week thereafter, the pint-sized-me was walking home from Hospital Hill Primary School in the cats-and-dogs rain. Why was I walking, you ask? Because there was no available public transport whatsoever. ‘Home’, for reference purposes, was somewhere on Mombasa Rd; this little place called South B, from whence I hail.
For those of you with reasonable geographic savvy of Nairobi, you may pick your jaw up off the floor now. For the rest of you, that’s a very long walk. Especially if you’re only 8-9 years old.
Anyway, we(my brother and I) began walking, got mud water splashed in our faces by speeding vehicles, pushed around by fellow pedestrians, slipped on the unstable ground and ..oh, right, rained on. Drenched. Might as well have swam there. When we finally got home to our frantically worried mother I walked the nearest window and thought “God isn’t crying. Angels are peeing on us.”
Over the years, the wrath of the angels seems to have gotten more acidic – in more ways than one. Rain does not seem to ever have any positive effect on this city or country, frankly. Continue reading