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BARANIKI AND A BIRO PEN 11.03.2020


My Beautiful Tsibektican, ready to roar


The congregation of important family members at my Mum’s residence had me forced to doze away from my king size mahogany bed. The King of Gathondeki, going to be a guest some 20 kilometers away. I select the Peperusha Princess to accompany me on this short trip east. But first, I had someone to visit west of my residence. Bag full of a pair of clothes for two days, my tool bag and a pair of shoes and I’m set. Suited up in the Lazzaro jersey and Wild Cat padded short, I clipped in and Tsibektican & I left our cherished home as we head off to Waithaka. Reaching Charlton’s shop in speedy style, I met the Main Man of Accedash Cycling Club. As is the norm between cyclists, the stories never end. A 15-minute to-be-meeting multiplied itself six times. The sun was dropping real low beyond the Rift; I had to cut short the juicy cycling stories train. “I’ll have to use Baraniki and head down A104.” “Why not use Kawangware? It’s shorter.” Charlton asked. Simple: The mess that neighborhood has, I cannot risk Munchkin getting a mechanical setback there. “The long route will take me about 90 minutes,” I added, meaning I’ll be seeing Mum at 7:35pm. Little did I know that two things will happen, I will find out the long way.


It was 6:12 as Sam and The Flying Duchess zoomed up the climbs to Kirigu Town. I’m humbly guilty of underestimating the power I and my bikes have, there’s a celestial kind of raw energy that runs all over the TUTOIS and I when we sail on the cycling tarmac waters. 6:20pm and I made a right turn down Muhuru Road, otherwise known around Kenya Cycling circles are Baraniki. Charles Mbugua loves this route on his 14 kilo hard tail, the skipper of Team Velonos loves a good hilly challenge and he always goes where they are. Now here I am, Tsibektican in Kiambu County and the cars on the opposite lane in Nairobi County, for the road marks the two county borders. Baby Bee’s drivetrain is proving too efficient as She dropped and zoomed up with excellent ease. On the last climb to Uthiru-87, She overtook this tuktuk whose driver failed to engage the climb gear and now we were been tailgated by a 3-wheel noise maker. I’m looking at the timer; its 6:31pm. I feel impressed despite my maroon big bag dangling badly at my lower back. We made it to my favorite highway 3 minutes later, entered the diversion route and zoomed back and down Awesome A104. Tsibektican did what She loves to do best: hunting and overtaking vehicles at every safe chance She got.


Munchkin, are you smoking a biro pen?



We reached the expanded Uthiru-Kangemi Stretch, my hands aimed for Her Spider Claw Bars, the bag lifted high up my aero arc-ed back, cadence rising high and the speed clocking 52kph as we prepped to swash the headwind wall waiting at N-Market. I’m looking down at the bitumen carpet blurring beneath my speedily rotating clipped feet. I look at to survey the oncoming scene and that is when what happened…happened. There are sounds a cyclist hears his bike making and it breeds fear withing his hardcore chest. That sound my ears picked was terrifying, it sounded like a knife got stuck in the rim. Contemplation of a worst case scenario was now top of mind. I looked at Munchkin’s front rim’s spokes; they were intact. I looked at Her rear wheel and I noticed it was going flat, the motion was now as bumpy as a Mohombi ride. My babies never get a puncture unless the tires have been pierced by a very large object. So I rotated the rear wheel and what I saw blew my mind away. The flat tyre was cause not by a sharprel, thorn or nail, but…. By a biro pen. That’s right, a student’s used up writing tool caused me and Munchkin 5 minutes of excellent motion. That pace was deliciously awesome, then this happens. My frustration shifted to the attraction of idlers as I fixed this costly disaster. The things they say makes you wonder if you are in 1988 or 2020. Four children showed up and stood by as I worked speedily. The Tsibektican was back to roar on the tarmac. It’s now dusk so I shone the Big Gun and it lit the dark sidewalk like an alien ship, much to the little ones’ amazement.


Dark Knight Peperusha Princess



I struggled to clip in as She slowly gained rolling momentum. Locked in, I went back to aero, with my whistle in my mouth. The Eastern Sky turned dark blue like the Pacific Ocean, with the city of Nairobi looking like it bordered the coast of an ocean. Traffic was zero towards town, the vehicles rising away had no luck as they were packed in 2kph traffic jams. “Why don’t you all resort to bicycles?” I mutted as I raced on through lonely roads and by 7:12pm I was unclipping to finally walk up the stairs to Mum’s apartment, with Tsibektican shoulder high on my arm. 55 minutes of moving time, I was delighted with this small victory. Cycling is life, I travel in style.

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