Nairobians often say “I’m five minutes away” when they’re not

On Saturday, I sat next to someone in a matatu who turned out to be quite a fascinating character. I was heading for a part of Nairobi I had never been to, and in the spirit of adventure, I made sure to get a window seat. I was lost in my own world when this woman sat next to me. The vehicle was slowly filling up, but in my estimation, we still had at least five minutes before we began snaking through city centre traffic.

My seatmate’s phone buzzed. From her conversation, it sounded like a work call; she began with a half-hearted apology for her tardiness. In an unflinching voice, she told the person on the other end she was five minutes away. I almost turned to look at her, but remembered people have been slapped for that.

Five minutes later, the phone rang again. By then, the vehicle was ready to leave the stage, but traffic was heavy and we had barely moved. She repeated herself: she was five minutes away. She even asked the caller to set up the steam room, blaming the traffic lights for the delay. Still, she insisted, she was five minutes away.

Read: Why I had to apologise to my younger self for not always keeping time

I was stunned by the bold lie. I put myself in the client’s shoes. I would probably be seen as impatient for repeatedly going back to the counter to ask why I was not being attended to. I might even miss my next appointment because this one had run over time. And I would likely be too unsettled to enjoy the spa day, distracted by the thought of arriving late for what came next.

Many of us have the bad habit of not keeping time. We will not always be punctual; life happens. But when delays occur, I prefer honesty. If you are an hour away, do not say you are 10 minutes away. If I know I have that hour, I can use it well. I might step out to run a quick errand or focus on pending work, instead of staring at a menu in a restaurant while scanning every face that passes.

Honesty also gives us options. We can agree to reschedule to a time that works for everyone. There are people I no longer meet in person because they do not keep time. The worst part is that it never seems to matter to them, and I end up looking unreasonable for expecting otherwise.

Read: So much to do, not enough time

My first lesson in time management came from an Irish man I interviewed when I was about 20 years old. Our meeting was scheduled for 2pm at a restaurant at ABC Place in Westlands. I had met him before at a workshop he was leading, and I was excited to have a deeper dive into what he does. Nairobi traffic did a number on me, and I ended up arriving at ABC Place at 2.30pm. I pulled out my phone and called my interviewee to let him know I had arrived. In a most matter-of-fact tone, he told me he had left and that we would have to reschedule.

We did, and I kept time. He explained that he always aims to arrive 15 minutes before an appointment and only waits for 15 minutes after the agreed time. It’s a matter of personal policy for him. So on that first day, he arrived at 1.45pm and waited until 2.15pm. When I did not show up, he had to leave to prepare for his next commitment. He taught me an important lesson: do not assume people have no commitments beyond the one they have with you.

Read: Time has become scarce, so I can never postpone anything 

My neighbour’s phone rang again. This was 30 minutes after she started saying she was five minutes again. This time, it seemed the person who called was a higher up – like her big boss. I could tell from the way she sat up and spoke in a more balanced tone. “Yes, I have been called. I am close to the office. I am just five minutes away,” she said on the phone.

I wanted to scream when she said the five-minute thing again! I had hoped this was the time she’d finally confess and be free. My philosophy of time is that it is not elastic and so I try to respect my time and other people’s time. What’s yours?

The writer is the Research & Impact Editor, NMG ([email protected]).