Thursday Thoughts: It’s just a shower; it won’t hurt!

“Nyabbo sente ziwelezze,” he said as he shoved his fat sweaty palm towards me and then it hit me! If you know what I am talking about you can probably be my witness on exactly what I am talking about. My nose feels like it has been raped by the intoxicating foul smell from this fellow.

This got me thinking whether there is a secret job requirement or this is a secret society brotherhood signature for all the members. Perhaps it could be an identity, I mean who knows what really goes on in the minds of these people.

It is like showering is EXTREMELY punishable by the higher power. Taxi conductors, boda boda men and some certain random humans who roam the streets with an aura of excellence and superiority yet the ambience around them is revolting.

Some of you are probably thinking, “We have heard this before”, “Here we go again” blah blah blah (yeah I know societies have such people) but well what have you done about it? Thought so, nothing.

It literally hurts when you try to actually have a conversation with such individuals. The smell! Judging from the appearance of this particular one, I bet he had been on an anti- bathing policy for close to a week and a half or two to be exact. I have had several encounters with these stink bombs before but this one right here, was the most excruciating experience so far. His hair I believe had a shade of dirty gold to it (do not think of the nice Kiprotich gold please, nope this was more like dirty yellow and muddy brown) with the little balls of hair well distributed and distanced all over his head.

Combs and shampoo must be a fantasy that his hair dreams about every single night. His breath could knock out a troll. His teeth, let us not even go there, for I think they are oblivious to the existence of brush bristles and chloride formula. If you think you did chemistry for no reason, this would put your memory to test for sure.

A piercing pungent ammonia like stench oozed out of his pit when he came closer to me. I slowly backed up and tried to catch my breath for if I did not, I was afraid my nose would lose all its sense of smell.

That’s when I realised that he hardly had any clothes on. The “vest” he was apparently wearing was practically in tatters. All patched up and dirty with food stains from a decade ago splattered everywhere.

The things he wore at the bottom were rather hard to identify. I could not tell whether they were trousers or shorts or a wrapper.

I could not stand the sight of everything and that taxi ride felt like the longest journey I had ever taken. I said a silent prayer and asked God to make the distance shorter for I could not take it any longer.

As we approached my stop, it was like a light at the end of a deep dark smelly tunnel. I hurriedly paid the fellow and practically leaped out of the taxi.

My whole system rebooted and I felt my withered nose swelling back to life. Seriously, is it so hard to just take a shower?

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