so jana was just another day that i had decided to stay at jobo till ma 5. All was going haywire from the moment I lost ruabe(200) at lunch which was gonna be my ticket for foodiculture at the tym.
Finally I got on a mat for Ronga which I’ll have u know, if there was an award for best traffic jam in the country then Ronga would me the mother of all jams. I sat net to a ka old mama who was no spring chicken and looked lyk she needed a drink from the lost Fountain of youth.
Off we went and lyk my tradition as i always head home I tried to lala(sleep) kiasi as lingala blared from the speakers. Then it hit me…a smell…no a stench so awful I was roused from my sabbatical. The smell lasted a while then it came again.
Lyk seriously, I tried the door was my only ticket to fresh air when opened for some passenger to alight but then the torture went on. This in turn led me to believe the culprit was close by and my analysis was spot on afta the ka mathe did released not one of those ka slow mo silenced ones but barely audible.
All my brain cells were working over tym wondering how long was I to bare. My punishment was not recunted as another ka mama boarded and was determined to stand by my seat. i will not go into details off how on earth you do not smell urine on yourself. Once the bus came to a slow hault I could not wait for it to stop and jumped out gasping for air almost landing on a traffic karao(police).
lesson choose your seat wisely peeps or you’ll have a fartastic journey.