Working at Babylon base taught me the art of dealing with stubborn people. It used to be an open secret that an uncomfortably large number of people did not have much regard for taxi drivers. Sometimes we carried passengers who, it appeared, thought of drivers as mere vehicle components. They would use foul language and expect us to perform miracles when they were late for engagements or flights. That was notwithstanding the crazy Nairobi traffic.
There was a morning when I was dispatched to pick a client who used to be extra-fussy. I drove into her compound and the housekeeper came out to inform me that she would be along shortly. I ended up waiting for almost an hour - not that I minded, since I would charge for the waiting time. When she came out however, she had in her hand a steaming mug of coffee. I assumed that she wanted to gulp it down before boarding the car, but I was wrong. She got into the back seat of the car with the coffee and as if that was not enough, she informed me that she was running late.
I had previously driven in many and diverse conditions ranging from storms to dark nights with two days of skipped sleep, but I had never driven a late and moody, coffee-sipping woman. This trip was going to be the greatest test of my driving skills and patience yet. When I drove out of her gate and joined the already piled-up traffic, I was not enthusiastic anymore. This was going to be one long morning. The lady did not improve matters with her constant reminders that she was going to be late. I do not consider the fact that not a drop of coffee spilt on her a result of good driving skill. It was merely by the grace of God that I managed to drop her at her destination dry, and on time. Now all I had to do was drop her beloved mug back to her house ready for the future torture of another driver.
I do not know whether it happens to other people but, sometimes when i'm nervous, I tend to mix up my syllables. This always happens when I am speaking English. I guess the situation is made worse by the fact that English is not my first language. It is one of those things which happen at the worst possible times leading to extreme embarrassment.
One of the things we had to constantly do at Babylon base was to request, convince, and sometimes, chase people away from the parking slots reserved for taxis. We had to do this unpleasant work everyday or risk having nowhere legitimate to conduct our business. Unfortunately for us, most of the people we had to chase away had bad attitudes which was what made them feel like they had the right to park there in the first place.
One day I was the first one to drive back to base after an assignment. I found all the slots occupied by shoppers apart from one which I took. After a few minutes, one of the cars pulled out and all I had to do was prevent somebody from taking it up. Fate had however decided that I would not have it easy. At that moment, a lady drove up and despite my frantic gestures that she does not park there, she proceeded to do exactly that. By the time I walked up to her window to explain, I was raging mad. She made me more agitated by asking why there were other cars which did not look like taxis parked there. Incidentally, my car was the only taxi there.
I had a hard time convincing her and to make matters worse, she seemed to be enjoying the useless argument. She then asked me why I thought she should move her car out. I fumed, “This is a Paxi Tarking!” (I meant Taxi Parking). She broke into a smile of victory as she backed out of the precious parking space.
P.S. I wish there was a spell check function in speech.
