The Public Toilet Disaster

Do you know what a hen feels when it is about to lay an egg, and the place is not convenient for it? You probably don't unless you have 'hens in your family'. My closest friend, who I refuse to name for security reasons, had just arrived in Nairobi, the Green City in the Sun, or the Safari Capital of the World etc., like it is passionately called around the world. It was his first time, and he was not here to see that famous city that has what no other city has: a National Park literally inside, in the CBD; he wasn't here to watch the animals either. His fate was so very like many other rural kids, so to say, who feel like town life is just what they really need to get on with their lives. So he had toiled for that three hundred shillings to make that journey to this great city. Many back home had looked as if they were burying him for many who venture that city do not return home, life being so different from home.

Well, my friend had arrived and he realised his mistake. He had not visited the toilet back home, and here he was, armed with nothing but a piece of paper which he was supposed to use as directions to a very distant cousin of his who also lived in the city but who was too busy to meet anyone, he had said. As he read the directions and looked at the names of streets he felt it. You guessed it! He felt what a hen feels when it is just about to lay the egg and cannot find the right place. The hen, if you don't have one, becomes as restless as the devil was when he was planning to go and tempt Jesus in the wilderness (it was not just a 'lemmie go' thing. The Devil had to prepare.). So my hen, sorry, friend started feeling that sensation that no matter what he did he had to go. He could not muster the courage to ask for the gents for yokels, when they get to town, act like they have lived in town all their lives. He started walking the kind of walk that makes sure you do not space your legs more than is necessary. The green stuff, to be politically correct, was just an inch away from this world. He walked and walked and with every step felt that stuff was coming. He wasn't sure that he would not let go on the next cop who stopped him to ask why he looked suspicious. He walked and walked, fast as his country legs could, and they really did for upcountry folks are used to walking great miles, due to the abundance of the lack of any type of vehicles there.

He crossed one street and another. One avenue to the other. One alley to the other. Then he saw it. About a hundred metres away, he saw a sign that read: Iko Public Toilet. City Council of Nairobi. But due to what he was carrying and so eager to drop at the same time, he broke into a run. He cared not for the traffic – the drivers could care for themselves, he thought. In Kenya it is not uncommon to see the athletes jogging in and out of the city but this yokel's way of running caught the attention of a young officer who was walking aimlessly looking for offenders. He followed at the same speed and shouted at the young man to stop but he was nowhere near heeding the advice of that cop. He ran on. He had about ten metres and a street to cross. This is where he planned to beat Usain Bolt. In other words, he took the U.B. challenge. He had not been taught to look left, right, and left again where he came from, which was not a loss for like I said there were no vehicles where he came from, and certainly he did not know such a rule as he approached that busy street at full speed. He ran through and left honking like was made during the bomb blast but by God's mercy he crossed the street safely.

The young officer took him for a mad man, and he waited until it was safe enough to cross and when he did he could not spot the young man running. He made for the toilets, which could have been the only place the young man would have disappeared to. When he reached the 'reception' (Nairobi toilets have them to prevent Kenyans from misusing the toilets, especially stealing the bowls – Kenyans steal anything stealable) the receptionist that instant discovered what he was running after. He pointed to the gents and our curious officer followed. What he heard was the foulest noise of all noises, for my friend had eaten 'enough' for the journey like he had been advised by his yokel family and friends, and so enough was coming out in the form of the three states of matter. The officer understood and left my friend who when he was finished asked the same officer for directions. He had not even seen or heard who was after him and the officer kindly showed him the buses to his destination.