I started driving a cab at a time when most operators did
not comply with legal requirements of the business. This led us to be engaged
in constant hide and seek games with the police. Our radio calls were not used
for business alone. There were also handy in giving warnings to fellow drivers
as to when and where police were conducting crackdowns on taxi-cabs. These
spots would be avoided at all costs but if not, the driver would have to part
with “something small” (bribe) or risk arrest. We learned to
sweet-talk police in much the same way that boys woo girls.
Like I have mentioned before, our company was always striving to improve its image. Part of this involved fulfilling statutory requirements. However, due to the large number of vehicles it had accumulated this compliance could not be completed at once. It had to be done progressively (one car at a time). This had an interesting effect on the police. If they stopped a few of the company cars and found them compliant, they assumed the whole fleet also was. For some strange supernatural reason, they only pulled over the compliant vehicles – at least initially.
While the company worked on bringing all the cars to compliance, we the drivers were given a one month deadline by which we were to get our individual papers in order. First, we had to have valid driving licenses. Additionally we were required to get certificates of good conduct from the criminal investigation department of the Kenya Police. These two documents would further be used to get passenger service vehicle (PSV) driving licenses from the Kenya Revenue Authority. Needless to say, it was a hectic exercise more so for those of us brought up in the village as we were not familiar with the bureaucracies involved in getting the papers. Quite a good number of us were defrauded by our wittier colleagues who claimed to be able help us though somebody they knew and who knew somebody in authority.
For two long weeks, I moved from one long queue to the next in different offices. Every long shift at work culminated in another seemingly endless process. I persisted because I didn’t want to lose my job (that was the threat we had been given for failure to have the documents by the deadline). Many tiring mornings – and afternoons, and several thousands of shillings later, I was fully compliant with the Government of Kenya as a taxi driver. Unfortunately for me, my car (Romeo One) was one of the decoys and so was not compliant. I was however optimistic that I would be lucky enough not to be stopped at a check point until Romeo One got her papers.
I was lucky for some time – and then my luck ran out. I was driving on James Gichuru road in the Nairobi suburb of Lavington with a client. Apparently none of my colleagues had passed there and so there was no radio warning of the police crackdown. I obliviously drove into it as I was animatedly chatting with my client. I noticed many cars pulled over on the side of the road but I didn’t think much of them. The policeman flagged me down at the last possible moment before I could make a run for it. There was nothing to do but stop. Like a wizard, he went straight to the windscreen where the missing sticker was supposed to be and my heart skipped a beat.
The police man was kind enough to give me a chance to call another cab to pick my client. He further advised me to tell the other driver to stop at a safe distance or risk arrest like me. The other car came, I bid my client goodbye as she walked to where the car was “hidden”, and I turned to listen to the verdict of the police man. He checked my personal papers and confirmed that they were in order. The car papers were not proper and the car was “under arrest”. I would therefore be required to drive it to the Kilimani Police Station failure to which it would be towed – at company cost. I agreed to drive it there accompanied by the police man. I parked at the police station and gave the police man the keys after locking the car. He told me to tell my boss to go pick up the car with the necessary documents and required fine. I had just earned myself an unexpected day off.
Like I have mentioned before, our company was always striving to improve its image. Part of this involved fulfilling statutory requirements. However, due to the large number of vehicles it had accumulated this compliance could not be completed at once. It had to be done progressively (one car at a time). This had an interesting effect on the police. If they stopped a few of the company cars and found them compliant, they assumed the whole fleet also was. For some strange supernatural reason, they only pulled over the compliant vehicles – at least initially.
While the company worked on bringing all the cars to compliance, we the drivers were given a one month deadline by which we were to get our individual papers in order. First, we had to have valid driving licenses. Additionally we were required to get certificates of good conduct from the criminal investigation department of the Kenya Police. These two documents would further be used to get passenger service vehicle (PSV) driving licenses from the Kenya Revenue Authority. Needless to say, it was a hectic exercise more so for those of us brought up in the village as we were not familiar with the bureaucracies involved in getting the papers. Quite a good number of us were defrauded by our wittier colleagues who claimed to be able help us though somebody they knew and who knew somebody in authority.
For two long weeks, I moved from one long queue to the next in different offices. Every long shift at work culminated in another seemingly endless process. I persisted because I didn’t want to lose my job (that was the threat we had been given for failure to have the documents by the deadline). Many tiring mornings – and afternoons, and several thousands of shillings later, I was fully compliant with the Government of Kenya as a taxi driver. Unfortunately for me, my car (Romeo One) was one of the decoys and so was not compliant. I was however optimistic that I would be lucky enough not to be stopped at a check point until Romeo One got her papers.
I was lucky for some time – and then my luck ran out. I was driving on James Gichuru road in the Nairobi suburb of Lavington with a client. Apparently none of my colleagues had passed there and so there was no radio warning of the police crackdown. I obliviously drove into it as I was animatedly chatting with my client. I noticed many cars pulled over on the side of the road but I didn’t think much of them. The policeman flagged me down at the last possible moment before I could make a run for it. There was nothing to do but stop. Like a wizard, he went straight to the windscreen where the missing sticker was supposed to be and my heart skipped a beat.
The police man was kind enough to give me a chance to call another cab to pick my client. He further advised me to tell the other driver to stop at a safe distance or risk arrest like me. The other car came, I bid my client goodbye as she walked to where the car was “hidden”, and I turned to listen to the verdict of the police man. He checked my personal papers and confirmed that they were in order. The car papers were not proper and the car was “under arrest”. I would therefore be required to drive it to the Kilimani Police Station failure to which it would be towed – at company cost. I agreed to drive it there accompanied by the police man. I parked at the police station and gave the police man the keys after locking the car. He told me to tell my boss to go pick up the car with the necessary documents and required fine. I had just earned myself an unexpected day off.
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