jasdooit

For the government-backed conference in Mombasa, we are traveling by train. It is a quick and cost-effective way to travel, yet I believe there is a more profound reason behind choosing the SGR route.

In my opinion, the government is not only seeking maximum value for its money but also attempting to validate a massive project that is as beneficial as an extinct species.

I mean, what’s the point of constructing an attractive road that leads nowhere? So what if there’s a standard gauge train that costs less than a bus ride? So what if it offers consistent daily trips between two major cities? What incentive do I have to use it? Nothing else has changed in Mombasa or along the route.

“Look, a giraffe,” Sophia says, gesturing towards a group of these impressive creatures. “It’s such a shame that local tourism is still so incredibly costly,” she continues, reflecting my own feelings.

“Why do giraffes have such long necks?” I ask her, trying to ease the tension.

A process of evolution that allows them to access the shoots at the top of the trees, which are greener and sweeter?

I shake my head. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but I have a more straightforward explanation that seems more logical.”

She faces me directly. “And what’s your explanation, Makini? I’m really eager to hear it.”

Well, according to the tale, in ancient times, giraffes had a neck much like a cow’s. Then, one day, Papa Giraffe dared to challenge Chuck Norris.

What?” Sophia’s eyes expanded to the size of table tennis balls. “The same Chuck Norris from the films?

Yes. Delta Force 1 and 2, Hellbound… That Chuck. Will you let me finish? So this giraffe believes it can challenge Norris, right? Makosa. Chuck lands a punch so powerful it elongates the giraffe’s neck to six feet. Forever.

On one of the few rare occasions, Sophia laughs at my joke.

You’re quite amusing,” she remarks. “Share another one with me.

Okay.” I contemplate for a moment. “Do you know why baboons have red bottoms?

I don’t know, Makini. Why do they?

I’ll explain. One day, an old baboon was fleeing from a lion. It reached a hill, fell on its backside, and slid all the way down. It managed to escape the lion, but its backside was so scratched that it turned red and bloody.

When the young baboons witnessed this, they started laughing and mocking the old baboon grandfather. The other adults chose to give the children a lesson. They grabbed their legs and pulled them across a rough surface, causing their bottoms to be scraped as well.

“So, all the other young baboons were born with red behinds?” she asks.

No. Each baboon parent must pull their young baboon against some rocks to make its bottom red.

Sophia laughs so intensely that tears flow from her eyes.

You know what?” she says, dabbing her face with a cloth. “They should do the same thing to people as well.

Are you saying to drag babies over rocks to make their bottoms bleed?

Not babies. Adults. A method to identify someone responsible for an offense. Picture how much simpler our tasks would be if every criminal had a visible indication of their past misdeeds?

I’ve heard that in some Muslim countries, they cut off a thief’s hand.

She ponders it for a moment. “Perhaps not something that extreme.”

What I wish for is politicians getting a tattoo each time they lie.

We chuckle, and I reflect, “This trip will turn out fine.”