Her Majesty The Tsibektican, my precious aluminium princess

“Okay boys, Coach has to go home early today,” I said authoritatively. The boys just wanted to ride on and on but today is traditional veggies day and I have to rush before the home seaters finish my favorite greens. I was already suited up so Munchkin and I escorted the Future Four Ridermen home before zooming up and away. Towards Juja Road I was hot on the red-black Wild Cat tyres as I and a nduthi guy chased this green Mwiki bound bus at 30kph. Traffic already, I was sure this evening was going be chaotic. A migration-like community of Eastlanders was walking home, so many of them. From Pangani came a loud siren; an ambulance coming out hard on the tarmac, making this nduthi guy to stupidly panic and he started pushing back on my ride path. I dodged him and kept the pace up to fast climb the overpass to Forest Road. A Mistubishi FH515 was hot on my tail as it passed me without being greedy for harming a cyclist just riding on his way home. The roads were heavy with traffic; everyone was in a rush to beat curfew time. It was easier crossing lanes thanks to this canter stuck near Shell petrol station. I love how She glides like a samurai sword through the invisible to slice intended targets. The ride was calm, bending left to cross Nairobi River into Chiromo Road. I could see ZD 9272’s imagery, wishing another would show up so that we could supersonic faster. Onto Chiromo climb, a blackie rider was on it strong while off-saddling, a nduthi guy was trying to overtake me at my left so I let him pass before I zoomed past the encouraging single speed rider.

In Westlands in 15 minutes, I was now calculating reaching home in T-Minus 27 minutes. A second white canter broke down near the next stage, causing a building traffic. Easy passing until I felt my right foot hit something hard. Munchkin’s water cage had come off the screw. Sigh, time to get to work.” So you too get offended when my friends talk about your weird features like your big brother huh?” I said to my princess as I pulled out 8/9 ring spanner and tightened it onto its threaded hole. There were so many matatus zooming up Safaricom Hill: Latemas, KMOs, Star buses and Super metros. Two blackie riders passed me as I calmly and confidently locked the Gathondeki bag on my torso, tossed my Decathlon luminous green bag on top, held Baby Bee, looked up the delicious hill awaiting a smash up, clipped in and zoomed away, catching the 2 riders and zoomed up and away to the traffic before James Gichuru. I was just about to enter the fast lane when I tactfully looked back and marked the small taxi coming to my right. Ahead of me was a Latema matatus about to cause a crash with the said car so I slowed down and watched my analysis nearly come through as the miniature car nearly smashed the right indicator lights of the matatu. I let the chaos die before zooming ahead as I passed a bicyclist pushing his faded Antelope steel MTB. Onto the left bend, I could see red lights lining up on Waruku Climb; the speedsters have met their match. The reflective image of Sam and his Peperusha Princess zoom up west was glorifying. I indicated to a grey Land Rover I’m entering the middle lane to pass the two matatus halted on the slow lane. A bicyclist was starting the struggle up Waruku. I passed only to be interfered by theses two nduthi guys trying to squeeze on the dilapidated shoulder. Wisely, I took to A104’s middle. I put the Alert Bird (My loud whistle) ready for police marshal duty. This Glovo nduthi guy got confused on whether to turn right or left. FRRRRP went the Alert Bird and he had to move, then he chased after me; that’s what I call traffic leadership.

The matatus that passed me 6kms away were lined up in traffic as if they were going to a weighbridge. I saw a water tanker ahead at 15 meters.” Munchkin we have a drafting chance,” I telepathically notified Miss Madilu. Too late, a Citi Shuttle showed from hiding and crossed into the fast lane with a KMO slow on the slow lane. Take it Sammy Take It!! I heard that crazy voice shouting to me. I took the offer, the lane was rough but I was wise to oil the Flying Duchess’ front shocks hours earlier, now they were smooth and mercenary effective. The pace went high, 40kph. My rpm at 90, I was spinning as fast as Nick Musera of RDX. The passengers in the Citi Shuttle were shocked at my crazy prowess. I was lost in the draft zone, my penance for letting my princess down a day before. I had had enough; I had to pull away, 220 meters already done. I could now cruise away easily and easy it truly was. I always believe that one can beat the evil that haunt our roads fair and square on the only noble machine ever invented. The descend down ILRI was boss-like with no interference. I made it in time to buy the last managu bundles, nutrition is essential.

I did not bother looking at the time taken, my happy sweaty black face said it all. I’ve celebrated the day The Great Malcolm X’s would be 95th birthday and two born 1995 babies: Henry Nzute the Igbo prince and the Princess of Himora from whom Munchin got Her name from; Wonda Occhid Tsibekti. Her mum would be very proud (Sorry, I’m a cycling lunatic). That’s it for May the 19th. Enjoy your rides good people.



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