Look at that moving dustbin
Two days ago, my husband and I had the misfortune to be travelling behind a certain matatu on one of the roads best known for its endless traffic jams in this our Nairoberry.
A few minutes into the drive, a packet of something unidentifiable flew out of the window.
We tightened our faces and said nothing. Shortly after that, two maize cobs, in quick succession, were thrown out. After the second maize cob my quiet and peace-loving husband asked, furiously, “Is this a moving dustbin or what?!” As angry as we both were, I had to laugh.
I am sure I have written about litterbugs before. Now that I am older and wiser, I have learnt not to get too angry at things I have no control over, for example, people whose brains are 90per cent porridge and 9 per cent water.
The remaining 1per cent is dedicated to the gray matter that controls life functions and distinguishes the person from a four-legged beast.
But brethren, what kind of person throws trash out of a moving vehicle? Are they not trash themselves? Don’t they belong to the dustbin of history? Do not they deserve to be lynched, much more than pickpockets do? Would I be wrong if I tracked down such an offender and hired someone to be defecating in their compound early every morning?
The bigger problem, however, is people who have a problem with me finding littering problematic.
“Eh Stella,” these nitwits twitter, “it’s not the end of life!”
Even when I am 80 years old, littering will make me angry. Why should we bother to spend an hour or more taking a bath and dressing nicely when we will then go and act like monkeys throwing banana peels from a tree?
If you are reading this and you are in the habit of throwing yoghurt packs, juice tins, maize cobs, sweet wrappers etc etc from the windows of moving vehicles then please know that you belong to the 90-9-1 ratio of porridge and water-brained people. Slap yourself very hard and repent in sackcloth and ashes.
Brethren, life is ugly enough. Let us not make it any uglier than it need be.
