What it means to travel by bus/matatu in Nairobi

I was rushing to class one evening, already late and looking for the bus that would leave sooner than later. And sure enough as I got to the Kencom bus stop, I saw a bus with its nose sticking out onto the road, its conductor standing on the last step holding out a finger, shouting, "Mmoja, Kawangware, Kawangware."

Happy that I had seen it, I started walking faster, all the while praying under my breath, "Lord please let them wait for me. Please don't let that bus leave me!" I had almost reached the bus when I saw another young lady approach the door. Disappointed, I slowed down, thinking to myself that I would now be properly late for my class. But then the lady stopped just at the door, exchanged a few words with the bus conductor and then stepped away. That was when I realised that I still had a chance to catch that bus! I walked quickly to the door. The lady was standing not too far off, but she did not seem sure about whether to get on the bus or not. So I got on and immediately (just like they always do) the bus pulled away.

The conductor pointed out one of the seats in the front and I almost smiled at the turn of events. I had gotten a bus that was leaving immediately and now I did not have to sit at the back! I was overjoyed! I should have known that there was a reason that seat in between two ladies was empty.

From the moment I sat down, I noticed that the lady seated on my right looked a bit....umm, how I do I put it? Unusual. I gave her a quick look over and the first thing that hit me was not even her clothes. It was the smell. Immediately I turned my face away, trying not to make a face as I did so. The woman on my left looked at me, gave a nod in the direction of the 'smelly lady' and wrinkled her nose. That's when it hit me that she knew I was fighting against the smell. AND, to make matters even worse, she had knowingly left that seat empty so that some poor sucker (who turned out to be me) would be the one to suffer the smell. I was so angry at myself at being late and thereby being desperate for a bus which had led me to the situation I was in now. But what could be done? I truly was desperate. Otherwise I would have found some way to get off the bus. So that left me with only one option: grit my teeth and bear it.

I'm not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but the smelly woman had her window open. So I guess it worked both to our advantage and disadvantage. The advantageous aspect of it was that her smell was not engulfing the whole row of seats. The disadvantage, I'm sure you can guess it. Every time the breeze blew in, it carried that smell with it. I looked for so many different ways to distract myself that I even started trying to identify that smell.

It was not sharp like ammonia or acidic like sulphuric acid. In fact it was almost bearable, if you did not inhale too much of it that is..

It hit me (pun intended) what it smelt like. Musty plastic. Like a paper bag that held wet clothes for a really, really long time. 

Well, that's what you get when you travel by public transport.