I always heard stories of people being mugged and robbed within and without the streets of Nairobi during the day with the public watching. I never believed the stories for they always seemed unreal. “How can you be robbed on broad daylight as people just stood and watched on?” I often wondered to myself. I never knew it was possible until it happened to me.
It was on Saturday, a day that had commenced just like other days but one that will always remain as a black day in my life as a resident of Nairobi. I left our offices located on Dereshe Towers along Murang’a Road at around 3 PM. That was after I had posted some four news stories on our online media platform. I said goodbye to our senior editor, David Indeje, who was busy having a cup of coffee since it was chilly outside.
I boarded Matatu, number 6, plying from Nairobi CBD to Eastleigh. The Matatu was old, just like other matatus along the route. As the old matatu coughed on towards Pangani, near the CID Starehe Offices, some two young men boarded it too. They came and sat next to me. I did not take any keen interest in them. I sunk my face on my new Tecno C8 screen chatting with some old friends. At Pangani Girls High School, another young man boarded the matatu and also sat at the backseat, where I was sitting with the other two.
At around 3:30 PM, I had arrived at my destination; Mlango Kubwa Stage along Juja Road on your way to Huruma. As I stood to alight, the three young men too alighted and something interesting was that they did not pay their bus fare and the conductor did not even bother to ask them. I pocketed my phone, adjusted my jacket and begun to walk. Suddenly, I felt something heavy, like a metal or a piece of wood, tightly pressed on my throat from the back. I could not move. I could not Breath.
I felt multiple hands searching my pockets and within ten to 20 seconds, my new Tecno C8, my wallet, my ATM, my money and the shoes I was wearing were gone. As they let me go, I could not support myself but dropped on the tarmac and hurt my elbow. What hurt me even the more, were the people who were standing to witness the whole drama. They did nothing apart from one of them telling the other in Swahili, “Hii ni Nairobi. Atajua hii ni Nairobi.” (This is Nairobi. He will know that this is Nairobi.”
Read: The streets are merciless, follow the rules for your own safety
My house was just 150 meters away from where I was robbed. As confused as I was, I changed my clothes and shoes and rushed to Pangani Police Station to report. It was only at the Pangani Police Station gate that I realized that I was wearing a shoe on the right foot and a slippers on the other. At the police station, another ordeal followed. The police officers seemed uninterested in me. I had to chase them up and down trying to beg them to write down my case. I wondered whether they ever read about their motto; Utumishi kwa Wote (Service to all). It took almost an hour for my statement to be recorded and even the officer who was recording it seemed uninterested, yawning repeatedly and stretching himself. As I left the station, I knew nothing will happen.
I now don’t know whether to hate Nairobi or Nairobians. Anyway, a man must live and life must go on.