Preggo Train Mutura. Part 2


I’m still not very proud of what i did but it already happened.

We approached highrise/ngummo in gusto. Preggo was seated uncomfortably probably wishing that whomever was farting could choke and die. The train honked again as it came to its last scheduled stop. No one had farted for a while.

As some passengers alighted and others boarded, Preggo raised her voice and said in her Luo accent,

“Tafadhali yule unayenyamba nakuomba, tafadhali, kama huwezi vumilia ushukie tu hapa uende upimwe alafu upewe dawa. Ama uvumilie, tuko karibu kuingia town.”

I was half listening as I fought a brewing fart, clenching butt cheeks as tight as I could. These things need concentration man, and prayers.

As Preggo spoke, a tiny fraction of gas escaped. I knew I could not hold much longer but i had two problems -
One, a fart held for that long is untrustworthy as it can be surprisingly loud, long and putrid - not to mention it could be diarrhea;
Two, the train had stopped and everyone was attentively searching for the culprit, any movement was closely monitored and any sounds carefully traced to the source.

The fart pressure was rising fast but any wrong move and i would be caught, hanged, and strangled so I had to think and act fast - and smart. Out of nowhere I had a genius idea.

As the train jerked and resumed the wretched journey, I took a deep breath and fell into a violent coughing fit and unclenched my butt cheeks. I coughed and coughed as loud as i possibly could, passing gas with each cough. Everyone looked in pity while some sympathetically guessed that I was asthmatic or bronchitic and the (previous) farts were the allergens. I sympathetically nodded and thanked my empathising medics.

“My nephew coughs like that,” said one lady, “utapona tu, pole.”

“Pole, sana mzee,”
Preggo said,
“hizo mishuto leo zitatupea homa, sijui tutaf—”

The smell hit her nostrils like a bad spirit, midsentence.

She lost it. She paused, sniffed, choked, and held her breath as she struggled to pull a leso out of her handbag while tightly pinching her nostrils and lips.

Thick veins protruded from her sweaty neck either because of holding her breathe or fart poisoning. Or both. She pulled the leso and wrapped it around her head. It took her a few seconds to realise her mistake, she had just trapped herself in a leso with a fart while bending toward her crotch; bringing her closer to the source of this atrocity. She was inhaling pure unadulterated fart Oxide.

Some poor guy who had slept all along woke up in a fit, wildly waving his hands in a seizure,
“what the fuck is happening?” he asked.
“Welcome to fartopia, sleepy head,” yours truly whispered, with an evil smirk.

A seated lady fished out her C.V and certs and profusely fanned like her future depended on them (Ha!)

“I’m gonna attend an interview smelling of farts!” she said, “Are we in a train or in someone’s ass?”

The evil fumes ascended and met the standing passengers. One guy smacked his lips in disgust,

“Am I tasting it? Did this guy shit in my mouth? What is wrong with you people!” he shouted.

“This is not how farts should smell! Am I having a stroke?” some dumb-looking guy asked. He pulled out a polythene bag and opened it wide, sweeping through air,

“I’m gonna sue, I need samples!”

“You really are an idiot, whom shall you sue” I said.

“He might be unto something, I can feel my kidney fail,” someone answered.

“You are wasting your time,” said another.

“You think so? Well, I heard they can deform an unborn baby though.”

This caught preggo’s attention.


Preggo shouted while unwrapping the leso.

“Are you serious mister?”

The idiot nodded

“My baby!”

“Your baby is okay,” I intervened, “this idiot doesn’t know what he is talking about.”

“Are you a doctor?”


“My baby!!”

Preggo panicked, stood up, started screaming and hyperventilating. We tried to calm her down but she could have none of it. Then she saw an emergency alarm, pounced toward it and pulled the lever.

A loud alarm filled the train as the train passed under a tunnel after madaraka estate and snaked towards Railways golf course. It slowed down and stopped right before the Uhuru Highway tunnel.

“Shukeni nishuke!” Preggo screamed, “I have to save my baby!!”

Guys jumped out, creating way for this wild expectant madwoman.

“They need to disinfect this train and probably burn this particular wagon.” dumdum said.

“Shut up man, you should never breed!” I told dumdum, almost punching him and his shitty (farty?) comments.

“I never knew i was working in a hardship area!” one crew member said.

Outside, panicking passangers from other wagons, the driver and some crew members had gathered to find out what was happening, with fire extinguishers.

“What is happening? A fire?”

“No, Worse!” Preggo said as she detailed, to the driver, the pain she had been put through.

She added that that same day was her expected date of delivery.

I really felt guilty.

After several minutes, the driver managed to convince Preggo that her baby would be fine. She boarded a different wagon and someone offered her a seat while the rest of the passengers boarded.

Dalili ya mvua ni mawingu na ya mavi ni mshuto, sio? I opted to walk the rest of the journey.

The train sped past, shaking the ground beneath. I stood by the line, admiring the greenery of the golf course. I did not care to check whether I was the only one who opted to walk (huge mistake)

I must say I felt an interestingly evil sense of pride for I had single-handedly made a train stop. Add that to your bucketlists mofos!

I deeply inhaled fresh air, shoved one hand in my trouser’s pocket, puckered my lips, and whistled the national anthem. With my new-found freedom, I relaxed my sphincter and freely let out the pressing fart, like a tambourine, whilst walking towards Uhuru Highway.

I had almost finished the first stanza when, from behind, a rough voice rudely interrupted,

“Oya! Nyang’au hii kumbe ilikuwa ni wewe?!”

RUN!! my mind screamed.

               [SIZE=6][B]THE END.[/B][/SIZE] 

[SIZE=2]Addendum :


Waiting for comments.

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Huo ndio Mnyambuliko wa vitenzi?


Boring plot but you are quite a writer

Hii sample tutapata wapi?




You should not board the SGR with muthamaki … otherwise utashukishwa Tsavo


You just killed me man!!!

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I am not sitting anywhere near an open window in a train



fantastic hekaya


Haha the real shit!


Finally…the last dose. I ain’t dying yet @Adeudeu


Hehehehe why do other people’s fart irritate and makes one angry while the smell of our fart makes us laugh? Paw for thought

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Am sitting quietly in a pub sipping a drink as I wait for some guys. Immediately after being served, I scan the surrounding and seeing that the coast is clear, I let out a long silent one, just after I am done, this waitress serving me reappears bill in hand. Let me just say she has inhaled quite a generous dose and considering that it’s partly fuelled by yesterday’s Gilbeys, it’s quite a portent one.


The loud embarrassing moment that follows such situations!


Hehehe You win!

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Fuck you nigger


WTF man!?
Etiquette brother.


I was alone, why did she have to come so quick to bring a bill for a single beer?

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Good plot and humour. Si uko mbele, i guess KDF can even harvest hiyo fart walipue alshabab nayo