Nyayo House - finale

Yes, 50 years later ... here comes the finale, smh.

I got to Ambassadeur and asked the passengers who were alighting waniitie makanga. Akakam akanifungulia seat-belt. That meant that I had to walk all the way to Nyayo House. I rushed past Mama Ngina Street, then via Bruce House & Cardinal Otunga Hse  sides through to my destination. I got there at exactly 6am. Nikipita hapo Cardinal Otunga ile bell ya Basilica ndio ilikuwa inaring. I was lucky enough to find people queuing outside as the gates had just been opened. "This is a good sign." I told myself. I got lucky this time and got number 117, looks bad but trust me this is a good number at Nyayo Hse.

This time round I made sure that all my documents were in good shape. Things went pretty smooth and I'm glad I carried all items needed this time. The intention was to finish everything on that particular day so that even if I have to wait for 4 months for the passport, all would still be well. The lot that sat on the bench with me didn't even have to wait long before we were guided to the 2nd room where our ticket numbers were called out. 

Nothing bizarre happened on this day. My prayers must've really worked out this time round. Just before my number was called out, I felt an urge to pee so I had to leave my bag with some two ladies. As I walked to the washroom, which is veerrry tiny and not in very good shape, I kept thinking, "What if those ladies disappear with my bag? What if they leave it unattended for seconds and someone just comes and grabs it?" Of course nothing of that sort happened but these public offices can never be trusted. I did my washroom business as quick as I could and rushed back. Just as I got back, a guy who was before me got called so that meant that I too, was going to be called soon.

"Ticket number A00117, go to counter number 11."

I quickly stood up and rushed to the counter. Now, here's the thing. As I patiently waited for my turn, I was crossing my fingers not to be called to the same counter I was at last time. That man was very mean to me and I just wasn't in the moods  for bad vibes this day 2. Luckily, I got called to the one next to him. While at counter no. 11, I quickly glanced on my right to check whether mean man is around but I didn't see him - good riddance! I issued my documents to my guy as I faced the wall hoping that the other guy, in case he comes back, wouldn't see me and chomea me. My guy, as usual, didn't even greet me. He just started checking my documents.

As he was about to finish, some girl comes to the counter and almost disrupts everything. I instantly got uneasy because in my head I thought that even the slightest disruption of the process would make this guy scrutinize my documents further and find a mistake - and that's what I feared. She'd apparently been served by him the previous day and had been told to come with her mum (...talk about  Primary School shenanigans! Who does this in this century surely? Ati come with your mum! Nigga please!). She tried explaining to the lady who was serving her this day that her mother was in no position to travel from upcountry to Nairobi. The two didn't even want to listen to her! The service lady, now also inside the booth, didn't want to hear any of her 'excuses'. "Naeza mpigia uongee na yeye?" the lady begs. "Sisi hatutaki kuongea na mama. Ambia mama apande gari akuje hapa atuambie hii maneno!" they retorted. Just as this was going on, the mean-man walks back into his booth and I felt blood rush to my head! It was irritation and fear at the same time.

Fortunately, the girl finally decided to just stop begging. That got me all like "God! Thank you...but also, please show up for her!" There was no sign of them giving in to her requests so she opted to just go home and nurse her wounds. I kept facing the wall, you'd think I was being punished in High School but in real sense I didn't want the mean- man to see me. My guy finally finished checking that I had everything and stamped my documents. God! I cannot put into words the feeling you get when you hear the thud the stamp makes! You feel like you're now crossing over to the long awaited land full of milk and honey - Canaan! "It is done - it is finished!" my head.

Yeah, so I finally got the "Go take passport photo" card they give you after that and waited for few minutes before I was shown into the room where they take finger prints and take the photo of you - with no jewellery on. I walked out of the building gassed up AF! I felt relieved. I don't have the passport yet, but at least I have the waiting reference number. Message to Mr. Mean Man - ya dunia ni mengi na ya kuku ni mayai, dunia pia ni duara. What goes around comes back around!

Soon it comes imma save up and travel to some remote place and drink to life & happy times. A girl can dream!