The woman who vomited on my shoe

I am seated in a mathree one evening,a few months ago.We have to go through Nairobi downtown to exit the CBD. There's a woman seated next to me,she has what looks like an empty gunia on her laps. I assume she works in one of the downtown market places.She isn't clean.Her nails look like a hard day of work.
She has a paperbag as well,whose contents look like foodstuff-I assume for her small or large family waiting for her at home.The conductor collects our fare monies.The matatu door has been left open as he walks down the matatu aisle collecting his dues.Guy jumps in carrying an assortment of fruits,sweets and water. A hawker-another guy that doesn't look so clean.I categorically think to myself,where does this water sold on the streets really really come from.I cringe at the thought of buying it.Well,cholera and typhoid would still get you in the warmth of your uptown houses and your big hotels built on land belonging to children's schools-but that water, that water sold randomly in the streets, I can't figure how to trust it.The woman next to me is interested in the hawker's oranges.She hands him 100 bob and waits for him to hand her the 50 bob pack of oranges plus her change.
You aren't ready for what happens next.
Guy jumps out of the matatu and flees. Unajua kukimbia ni nini?That guy runs off,oranges and 100 bob in hand.This woman isn't going to be squeezing orange juice out of any oranges tonight,neither is she getting any change back.The woman begins to scream,she throws her gunia and paperbag on her seat as she stands.She's asking the driver to stop the gadamn matatu.She didn't say gadamn, I doubt she knows how to say gadamn. She literally wants to jump out,because she cannot believe this hawker just stole from her in broad daylight,well it was getting kidogo dark.
Eventually she seats down in resignation.She seems sooooo sooooo sad.She probably worked hard all day to get that 100 bob.What will she take take to her son who loves oranges?She probably needed the 50 bob for fare the next day.
'Ulikua umempee 100 bob ama nimeona nini?' I ask her slowly.
'Ehh,ni mia,' she answers,looking down sorrowfully.
I stare out the window for a few minutes,then I reach into my bag,pull out my wallet and hand her 100 bob.She is shocked at the gesture and hesitates to take it.I convince her with my smile(guys,I have to tell you,when I smile, a lot of things happen.Just thought you should know.I'll harrumph at this juncture). She profusely speaks words of blessings to me that I accept with an open heart.


A Saturday afternoon,I am coming from work.A different mathree,a different route.There's this really dark woman seated across the aisle next to me.She must be Sudanese.Is it me or are Sudanese women elegantly beautiful in their dark skin,their conspicuous height, their long legs..maybe I just like dark people.There's a man seated on the seat behind her.Husband?I don't know. But they know each other-they've been interacting.She seems sick.She is either pregnant or has motion sickness because she's been vomiting on the floor,in between her legs,not so much at first...then ALOT. So much that some splatters on my shoes.This is when you thank the gods for that bad pedicure that made you not wear open shoes today.She's oblivious to what she's done.I catch a feeling for a while. Hata kasorry jameni. I feel abit harried,why I'm I the only recipient of this vomit,I don't even have long feet for heaven's sake.
She's clutching her tummy,I notice that the man seems least perturbed.Is it a culture thing?That you ignore the woman you are with when they are vomiting?I feel some pity for her,in the midst of catching feelings.But I have vomit on my shoe gadamnit. Not even wet wipes will help me,I don't want any possibility of skin contact.I decide I'll just go clean them at home;probably buy gloves on the way.
I still feel pity for her.Imagine yourself in a moving vehicle,and your stomach goes into traitorous mode.The nerve of our bodies sometimes.You are in a foreign country,you've already vomited on someone's shoe  and you are receiving sneers from people.
She has her head bowed,I would bow my head too,to avoid the glares.She's waiting for the next session of retro-peristalsis. I reach into my bag.Guys,when you hear about women's handbags and how they contain EVERYTHING,it is not a myth.I have an extra paperbag,neatly folded-this serves for the incases-incase I get something extra to carry that can't fit into my bag,incase my umbrella(which is in the bag)gets blown away when it rains(incase it rains), then I can use the paperbag for my hair,incase ...incase incase. I handed the paperbag to the woman,she gladly received it,she knew what it was for.But now paperbags have been banned,I don't know how I will help the next person that vomits on my shoe.


Kindness comes from the heart,it is a choice.

Have a fab Thursday guise.