A Man’s First Wife

I conceptualized this post as i was javing home last evening.
I have the priviledge of operating (note how i didn’t say owning), a set of wheels that i fondly refer to as Sandra. Now Sandra is a lovely companion. She drives well, is not retardedly thirsty, has looks to die for and the sound is pretty decent. (I spent an afternoon in shorts and a vest wiring the kipaza ujumbe(radio) myself. The satisfaction of turning it on and hearing nothing else around me but muziki is superb.) We have a pretty neat relationship. She delivers me to my destination at all times and i in turn nourish her and take her to the doctor once in a while. I’m also wary about bruising her body or her ego. Her ego is kept in check by ensuring no car that can fit in a handbag (Vitz, duet, probox, March, etc) pass her by on any road no matter the terrain.


Now Sandra has not always been my mode of transportation. Treza was my first love, she was a 1986 Toyota Sprinter. We had a special connection and despite me just learning to be a competent KENYAN driver. I only dented her once as i was trying to circumvent a tree in our compound. After a few years, the figures of authority in my life decided she had become too old and they disposed of her. Tears turned into smiles as i saw her replacement, Makena.
Makena wanna-be
Makena was a big girl, 3-litre, 4-speed tiptronic, 7-seater Mitsubishi Chariot. She had an 8 speaker sound system and nice comfy leather seats. She had enough space inside to play chobo funga in and looked pretty good from the outside. It was with her that i learnt how a real ac system operates.
She however had a very big flaw. Its really not attractive when your lady drinks more than you do. I mean, if her budget is double yours on a night out, you have a problem. This situation led to Makena being handed to the highest bidder and me on footsubishi for a while. Makena was finally replaced by Rachel.
Now Rachel was a polite lady. Under her hood she had a 1.6 litre engine with a 4 speed automatic gearbox linking the engine to her transmission. She was also black with those ugly stock Toyota rims. She was so basic that she didn’t even have a radio wacha the Boom Twaff i was used to. She did not stay for long though. The suitors of this particular lady were not very open to her siasa and her vybe potead like a kuku next to some friends of mine *cough archer cough*.
Next on the list was Noelle. Now Noelle’s case was interesting. The minute she stepped into the compound, my mother (who was done with manual cars) refused to let her go. Her solution was to give up Sandra, who then became my first lady.
I have always been in love with cars. One of my favorite to drive is a Mitsubishi L200 pickup. (My famo is typical Mt Kenya Mafia. Pickup lazima) These car is a beast. She has been through hell, high water and my brother (who is worse than both) and is still as fit as the day she drove out of Simba Colt.
There was also Nancy who was a van (yaani Matatu). She was for mzee’s biashara lakini she had a nasty accident that led to her being culled from the family (She was written off).
I plan on getting a new acquisition soon. New here is relative coz it stands for new to me not necessarily to Kenyan roads.
Now the reason i speak so passionately about cars is cause driving is my number one avenue of stress relief. I don’t mid spending 2 hrs in traffic if its just me and Sandra (Of course this depends on where im going).
Driving for me is therapeutic. Why do you love whatever it is that you love?

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