During my
first days as a taxi driver, I had an unbelievably poor sense of direction
which led me to getting lost several times during every shift. It was the one
trait I needed to lose if I was to survive in my new found profession. It was
losing me respect, clients, and money. The
loss of money was of course the most significant since I had not accumulated
much of the other two. It didn’t do well for me to build up hundreds of
shillings in bounces every day. On the road to my financial freedom, this was
like walking one step forward and two backwards. I had to find a way out –
fast.
I assessed my situation and realized how precarious it was. There were only two ways out. One was to quit and go back to the village, and the other was to stay put and learn what I needed to. Being the fighter that I was (and still am), I had only one option and that was to stick where I was and learn. Learning something as complex as the routes of a big city is easier said than done owing to the fact that there is no known teacher on the subject. Most people believe that learning any route is best achieved by getting lost. There is even a Kenyan community proverb to that effect. I could not, however, afford to use that method because in the taxi business, getting lost meant paying up – in hard cash.
The solution to my problem occurred to me during one of the deep meditation sessions that I used to have in those days. It would still cost money but would be worth every shilling. That is each single one of three hundred shillings. It would put the whole city of Nairobi, including the suburbs, right in the palm of my hand – or on the bonnet of my car, quite literally. The way out of my predicament was through one of the greatest inventions of all time. It was also one of the best investments I ever made in my life – a map of Nairobi. Up until then, I – like most other Kenyans – used to think that maps were only meant to be used by tourists. I knew then that many lost people would not have been lost if they had a map.
Geography had been one of my favourite subjects in school, and this knowledge came in handy. Reading a direction from my precious map, and going there physically made me know (unusually fast) the routes to take to many different places. I never let any of my colleagues know about my map. I never removed it when I was parked at the base. I would wait to be sent to a place by the control room and with my newly discovered confidence, I admitted to knowing wherever it was that I sent to. I used to drive out of base, take the general direction of the place I had been sent to, and then park by the side of some lonely road. I would take out my map and spread it out on Victor’s (my red car’s) bonnet. From that I was always able to find any place as long as I knew the name of the road it was located on.
My colleagues started noticing the fact that I was not getting lost anymore. They erroneously attributed this to what they thought was my high level of intelligence and a supernatural memory. I still pretended to ask for directions but always cut somebody short saying I had already understood. I let them take the credit that rightfully belonged to my map. I also took some of the credit by being referred to as the easiest new driver to give directions to. I trusted that map 100% until I came to learn that not all roads in Nairobi have names, and not all those with names have them written on a sign. I also came to know that not every square kilometre of our beautiful city is mapped, and potholes are not indicated on maps.
I assessed my situation and realized how precarious it was. There were only two ways out. One was to quit and go back to the village, and the other was to stay put and learn what I needed to. Being the fighter that I was (and still am), I had only one option and that was to stick where I was and learn. Learning something as complex as the routes of a big city is easier said than done owing to the fact that there is no known teacher on the subject. Most people believe that learning any route is best achieved by getting lost. There is even a Kenyan community proverb to that effect. I could not, however, afford to use that method because in the taxi business, getting lost meant paying up – in hard cash.
The solution to my problem occurred to me during one of the deep meditation sessions that I used to have in those days. It would still cost money but would be worth every shilling. That is each single one of three hundred shillings. It would put the whole city of Nairobi, including the suburbs, right in the palm of my hand – or on the bonnet of my car, quite literally. The way out of my predicament was through one of the greatest inventions of all time. It was also one of the best investments I ever made in my life – a map of Nairobi. Up until then, I – like most other Kenyans – used to think that maps were only meant to be used by tourists. I knew then that many lost people would not have been lost if they had a map.
Geography had been one of my favourite subjects in school, and this knowledge came in handy. Reading a direction from my precious map, and going there physically made me know (unusually fast) the routes to take to many different places. I never let any of my colleagues know about my map. I never removed it when I was parked at the base. I would wait to be sent to a place by the control room and with my newly discovered confidence, I admitted to knowing wherever it was that I sent to. I used to drive out of base, take the general direction of the place I had been sent to, and then park by the side of some lonely road. I would take out my map and spread it out on Victor’s (my red car’s) bonnet. From that I was always able to find any place as long as I knew the name of the road it was located on.
My colleagues started noticing the fact that I was not getting lost anymore. They erroneously attributed this to what they thought was my high level of intelligence and a supernatural memory. I still pretended to ask for directions but always cut somebody short saying I had already understood. I let them take the credit that rightfully belonged to my map. I also took some of the credit by being referred to as the easiest new driver to give directions to. I trusted that map 100% until I came to learn that not all roads in Nairobi have names, and not all those with names have them written on a sign. I also came to know that not every square kilometre of our beautiful city is mapped, and potholes are not indicated on maps.
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