My story begins and ends online, just about two years after the pandemic began. Covid-19 caught us by surprise. Yes, we were already reading about it and watching it on the news before Kenya reported its first case, but it still hit hard.
I won’t dwell on the press conference when Baba Kahush walked down the majestic steps of Harambee House to announce the first case. Instead, I want to talk about how I flew to Mombasa for only a thousand bob and tested positive for Covid upon my return.
In December 2021, I stumbled upon an incredible deal online. A ticketing company was running a promotion: for just one thousand Kenyan Shillings, you could fly to any local destination. I took the offer and bought a one-way ticket to Mombasa. Return tickets were scarce, perhaps to let more people enjoy the offer.
The allure of cheap flights is undeniable, like the Ksh3,800 round trip I took to Kisumu or “ogalko” as my grandma calls it. That’s a story for another day.
On December 21, 2021, I worked until 5 PM before beginning my thousand-shilling journey to Mombasa “nam chumbi.” I was taking a weeklong Christmas break to see my daughter, Elsa, aka “Nyar Ojung’a, Nyar Dabu, Min Amayo.”
Determined to spend as little as possible, I packed my bag and told my boss, Graham, “So long, Wuod Nandi,” (son of Nandi). If you know Harry Thuku Road, you know that heavy traffic there means Uhuru Highway and Globe Cinema Roundabout are even worse. That was the case that evening.
I needed to think fast. Taking a cab would violate my frugality plan, so I scouted for a bodaboda. None in sight. I decided to walk to town. For those familiar with KBC, you know it’s quite a distance from the CBD.
Nairobi’s traffic was hellish, confirming my fears. Finally, a bodaboda appeared. Wambulwa asked for Ksh300 to take me to the Nyayo Stadium Roundabout; I paid him Ksh200.
I assumed there would be less traffic out of town. Wrong again. I waited 20 minutes at a Shell Petrol station for a bus to the airport. It was now 6 PM, and my flight was at 7:25 PM. Eventually, a bus came, but Mombasa Road was still clogged with traffic.
At the Ole Sereni interchange, we took a left turn onto a back road shortcut to General Motors. It started drizzling. At GM, I got off and took another bodaboda, realizing I wouldn’t make it to the airport by 6:45 PM. The bodaboda rider could only take me to the JKIA exit toll station. It was 7 PM, and I thought I’d miss my flight. I negotiated with a taxi driver to take me to the airport for Ksh500 instead of the Ksh1,000 he wanted. I arrived to find my flight delayed.
Skipping ahead to December 25th, Tobias and I were chilling at the crowded Copa Cabana Beach in Mtwapa. Social distancing was a distant memory. It reminded me of when a police officer stopped our matatu at the height of social distancing only to find it packed. “Oh! My God!!!” she exclaimed. I laughed.
That night, as the James Webb Space Telescope was launched, Malindi was in the news because the station was tracking its journey. Toby and I talked about how JWST had put Kenya on the map.
We left the beach at 11 PM and moved the festivities to a bar in Mtwapa until 3 AM. The next morning, I felt unusually unwell. My body ached, and I had a tickle in my throat. Could it be…nah! I downplayed it.
Mombasa’s weather alternated between too cold and too hot. My body ached more. By midnight on December 26, I developed a cough. Cold showers became unbearable. I got cough syrup from a pharmacy, but my symptoms persisted.
At the SGR terminal in Mombasa, I drank some “dawa.” It soothed my throat and chest, but the symptoms worsened as we left the coast. I was shivering and sweating alternately.
Upon reaching Nairobi, I went straight to the hospital and tested positive for Covid-19. Self-quarantine for two weeks followed. I told my mom and sister, agreeing to keep it within the family due to the stigma surrounding Covid-19 patients.
I lived in Umoja One then. My sister and her daughters brought me food daily. It was my first time taking vitamin C supplements. I felt dirty from the virus and told my colleagues.
To this day, I wonder how and where I contracted the virus. What I do know is that I would still ride ten bodabodas just to fly for a thousand shillings, even if it’s one way.
Edward Kabasa is the senior news editor at KBC
