It had been one week since missing my job opportunity. I was feeling completely dejected. I was regretting my failure to take up the bakery job, which had also already been given away. That had been a sure chance, unlike this non-starter job as a cab driver. So much for my father's advice of meeting new people. I was not meeting anybody new - not now and not in the foreseeable future. I was stuck in a rut - but not for long.
The person who had been hired in my place turned out to be a clown - outside of a circus. Apparently, someone had mis-adviced him that being a taxi driver was an easy way of becoming rich. Taxis in Kenya base their charges on the mileage covered with a passenger. The number of kilometres covered from when the car leaves the parking base, to the time it returns - after having picked and dropped a passenger - is what determines how much that particular customer will be charged. After many years in operation, the taxi company had relatively accurate estimates of the distances to and from most destinations. At the end of the working day, the driver remits takings that are commensurate with the total distance covered during the shift.
The man did not understand this. He would take a client to the airport, which is 20 kilometres away, and record in his worksheet that he went to an estate that is 3 kilometres from base. He would then consider the surplus money to be his bonus. He did this within his first week of work - and one week was the long he lasted. He was fired and I was sent for.
I woke up very early the following day. I dressed up in my "official attire" and went to work - using fare given to me by my brother. I arrived long before the shift was over, and waited. This time I was waiting happily. The car arrived from the car wash and it was gleaming. It had a full tank of fuel. I had my blank worksheet ready to be filled with many jobs - or so I thought. I inspected the car, was shown how to operate the radio call, and I was good to go. I was excited to be driving the most beautiful car in the company. I would later come to learn that its beauty was only skin deep. I would also find out the reason why it was usually assigned to newest driver.
The person who had been hired in my place turned out to be a clown - outside of a circus. Apparently, someone had mis-adviced him that being a taxi driver was an easy way of becoming rich. Taxis in Kenya base their charges on the mileage covered with a passenger. The number of kilometres covered from when the car leaves the parking base, to the time it returns - after having picked and dropped a passenger - is what determines how much that particular customer will be charged. After many years in operation, the taxi company had relatively accurate estimates of the distances to and from most destinations. At the end of the working day, the driver remits takings that are commensurate with the total distance covered during the shift.
The man did not understand this. He would take a client to the airport, which is 20 kilometres away, and record in his worksheet that he went to an estate that is 3 kilometres from base. He would then consider the surplus money to be his bonus. He did this within his first week of work - and one week was the long he lasted. He was fired and I was sent for.
I woke up very early the following day. I dressed up in my "official attire" and went to work - using fare given to me by my brother. I arrived long before the shift was over, and waited. This time I was waiting happily. The car arrived from the car wash and it was gleaming. It had a full tank of fuel. I had my blank worksheet ready to be filled with many jobs - or so I thought. I inspected the car, was shown how to operate the radio call, and I was good to go. I was excited to be driving the most beautiful car in the company. I would later come to learn that its beauty was only skin deep. I would also find out the reason why it was usually assigned to newest driver.
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