It is about half past five in the evening, peak hour, and the traffic on Ngong Road in Nairobi not too far from Dagoretti is bumper-to-bumper on both sides of the road.
There is gridlock at the small roundabout near Nakumatt, The Junction, with vehicles from the city centre having formed extra lanes.
In an attempt to get ahead of those using the designated, narrow lane, the more daring ones, mostly matatus, harass other road users and overlap on the wrong side of the road in a mad rush to get to Dagoretti Corner.
Motorists driving private cars quickly move aside to make way for the 14-seater matatus and minibuses that are now using the wrong side of the road as their “official” route.
Their blaring horns and aggressive touts, better known as makangas , direct other drivers where to manoeuvre their vehicles to make way for the road hogs, some of which stop in the middle of the road to pick up passengers.
Welcome to the city’s chaotic transport, where matatus reign supreme. But it is not just in Nairobi that matatus behave so badly. Their behaviour is the same in most urban centres.
And they have learnt to intimidate other road users such that when private car owners see these passenger service vehicles bearing down on them, they give way as they would to an ambulance or fire engine.
Matatus behave as if they own the road, and in their mad rush to get ahead of everyone else, often offend the passengers on board, pedestrians and private car drivers, but they remain unapologetic.
The vehicles hog the roads during rush hours, riding roughshod over other road users.
The industry, which, undeniably, plays an important role, employs thousands of drivers, conductors and passenger scouts who, in their quest to get customer, often harass them.
They operate in total disregard of traffic laws, cutting dangerously in front of other vehicles, jumping red lights and driving recklessly. Paradoxically, they display remarkable organisation when threatened, coming together against anyone who dares challenge them.
Whenever the government tries to rein them in by enforcing traffic laws, they complain of harassment and threaten, or actually go, on strike, inconveniencing those who rely on public transport.
The name matatu can be traced back to 1953, when a man from Narok used to use his car to illegally ferry African passengers to Nairobi during the colonial era.
Back then, the ride to the city cost three cents; tatu means "three" in Kiswahili, and that’s how the name “matatu” came about. Since then, everything, and not just the fare, has changed drastically.
It is enough to make the man from Narok, from whose idea the rowdy transport system derived it’s name, turn in his grave.
But unlike the man from Narok, matatus have no regard for anyone they come across in their line of business, be they passengers from whom they earn their keep, the authorities charged with enforcing traffic rules, or other road users.
From the way touts often treat passengers, it is hard to believe that these are the people from whom they earn their keep. Many touts often grab the fare from a passenger’s hand and insult those who do not pay fast enough.
Indeed, passengers have borne the brunt of the worst of matatus over the years. Early last year, for instance, a 23-year-old woman was killed after being thrown out of a moving matatu and being run over by another vehicle over a Sh10 fare dispute in Nairobi’s Kawangware.
And in faraway Eldoret, a middle-aged man was lucky to escape with bruises in October after he was pushed off a speeding matatu and landed in the River Sossain in Uasin Gishu.
He could have drowned, had the residents of the nearby Langas Estate not pulled him out of the river.
His crime? He did not have the Sh20 the tout was demanding. As in the Kawangware incident, the residents held protests against the conductor’s action.
According to a World Health Organisation report on road safety in Kenya, between 3,000 and 13,000 Kenyans suffer injuries or die in road accidents every year.
Most of the victims are pedestrians, motorcyclists, and cyclists. Further, nearly one-third of those who die are passengers, many of whom are killed in unsafe forms of public transportation.
“I have never been happy in a matatu,” says Fredrick Okoth, who uses matatus daily between Bomas and Karen, “Some are clearly not roadworthy yet they overload, and in most cases overcharge with impunity.”
Blaring music, a host of designs and graphics
Matatus are a colourful lot, often covered with graphics. The drawings include those of famous footballers, musicians, actors and political leaders while the writings include warnings, wise sayings and even verses from the Bible.
Some of the writings are in bad taste and are actually insulting to the passengers. For instance, one bears the writing, Tumewakalia chapati, which loosely translated means "You’re helpless against us".
Some people find the colourful interior designs attractive, what with some of the vehicles even having lights on the floor.
A few people, particularly youngsters, enjoy the blaring music but most people often protest – in vain. Some matatus have music that is so loud that it gives you a headache. If you complain, they say you are too old.
Besides, some of the music is extremely vulgar and replete with unprintable words. However, as you cringe in your seat hoping the crew will turn off the music or play something else, the tout seems to enjoy it as evidenced by his dancing at the door
In one incident, the driver of a Route 11 matatu in Nairobi was forced to turn off the music when tired passengers started alighting in protest.
But it was a short-lived victory because, after a while, he switched it on again, first on low volume then gradually increasing it to the irritating ear-splitting volume.
And as if to forestall any requests by passengers for them to lower the volume to enable them to make or receive phone calls, some matatus have a notice that reads, “SMS only”.
In fact, so determined are the crew to enjoy their ear-splitting music that some have an “advisory” that reads: “If the music is too loud, you are too old.”
Interestingly, many have a notice advising that all windows be kept open to prevent the spread of TB, yet their windows are sealed.
Some matatus have CCTV-like gadgets that might fool you into thinking you are safe, but they are actually lighting fixtures. And if you jump into a matatu advertising “Free Wi-Fi”, count yourself lucky if you find any signals inside.
If anything, you are more likely to lose your phone certain passengers who keep switching seats and alighting abruptly.
To add to the frustration of travelling by matatu is the behaviour of some passengers. You might find yourself sitting next to one who coughs with his/her mouth open, or one who engages in endless telephone conversations that are loud enough for all the passengers to hear.
Then there are those who crane their necks to read the text message you are typing on your phone, or who keep stepping on you without as much as an apology.
Not forgetting those who stretch their hands over your shoulder to yank a window open as they chew gum noisily and pop it from time to time. If you’ve travelled by public means, you must have come across at least one of these types.
The government’s efforts to have every matatu operate under a Sacco might bring some sanity to the industry. A recent incident in which a woman was molested saw a whole fleet of PSVs grounded in a move meant to show matatu crews that they will be held responsible for their actions.
The cashless fare system is also likely to create order for the conductors who collect fares and their “agents” who tout for passengers and man bus stops in groups.
However, whether the government will succeed in enforcing the cashless fare system remains to be seen since most vehicles have not installed the gadget that makes the system possible.
The system also seeks to have matatu crews employed through contracts and their licences applied for by the Saccos under which they operate.
The relationship between matatus and police officers is a complicated one. At the Nairobi Railways bus terminus, for instance, the matatus have a man who negotiates with the traffic cops at the nearby roundabout to allow time for them to pick up passengers on their way out of the terminus.
The man “taxes” every vehicle for this service, and uses the cash to grease the cops’ palms.
Many incidents have been captured on camera showing the different ways matatus use to bribe policemen. They include dropping cash as they pass by police officers, placing it on the vehicle’s door handles and then slowing down as they approach the cops.
Others are putting cash inside the driving licence while the digital ones send it via mobile phones. Any wonder, then, that there are some the rickety cars on our roads?
In fact, traffic bribes account for the most of self-reported soliciting of bribes. When bribes for traffic violations were raised in the new traffic regulations, the Associated Press reported that the traffic police also increased the size of the bribes they were demanding.
The Michuki Rules remain the only memorable regulations that matatus made an attempt to comply with. Unfortunately, before they could internalise them, the no-nonsense minister was moved from the Transport ministry.
But traces of the attempts to comply with the Michuki rules remain: many mataus still have safety belts, but they are so dirty and dysfunctional that even passengers who would want to use them dare not touch them.
Thanks to corruption, the matatus and their operators have apparently become “untouchable”. In many cases, matatus flout the traffic rules and the police look the other way. In fact, I once heard a policeman asking an overlapping motorist why he was “driving like a matatu”.
As much as many commuters who don’t have cars would prefer travelling by other means if they had a choice, matatus have become like the proverbial blanket that causes an itch when held close, but which leaves one cold when thrown away.
When matatus strike, for instance, many people have no alternative transport. Consequently, those who rely on public transport have to trek long distances, envying those riding alone in their cars.
However, one cannot blame such motorists because, with rampant insecurity, giving strangers a ride is risky.
That matatus are a necessarily evil — at least with the current public transport system — becomes clear when they strike, which is often when schools are about to reopen, and when the impact is sure to be felt most. They often get their way, although they can barely sustain a three-day strike, since some of the vehicles were bought using loans.
