From matatu tout to serving five-star customers

George Sakwa Nato, Kempinski concierge

Nairobi; Kenya: Nothing in George Nato’s bubbly frame suggests a previous career in the chaotic matatu industry. Donning spotless hotel uniform, Nato is the chief concierge at Villa Rosa Kempinski. Last month, he was awarded Les Clefs d’Or status (he’s only the second in the country to receive this award) during the Golden Keys ceremony at the hotel, having served as the vice-chairperson of the Kenyan Chapter of the Concierge Society. In France, a concierge is a caretaker of an apartment complex or a small hotel, who lives on the premises.

Les Clefs d’Or is an association of concierges from all over the world that is based on friendship between members and their experience in assisting international travellers.

Yet, as he mingles with presidents, international corporate chiefs and renowned celebrities, Nato’s former career as a matatu tout on Lang’ata’s route number 15 is not far his mind. The lessons he gained from the industry known for its uncouth behaviour have, he says, taught him how to deal with people.

On a cold Friday afternoon, I meet Nato, 31, in his station in the hotel’s main entrance along Chiromo Road. He easily tears up as he recounts his dark days as a tout, his dream of joining the hospitality industry fading by the day.

As a Standard Three pupil in St Peter’s School in Mumias, Nato harboured the dream of being a chef in a high end establishment. His father, a former policeman, took him to a restaurant where he saw a chef do a flambé, a technique in which alcohol is added to a hot pan to create a burst of blue flames, infusing the dish with additional aroma and flavour.

When they went back home, the young man attempted the same.

“I put liquid paraffin in a sufuria, put some food in it and ignited the mixture. As expected, the thing almost burnt down the home and everyone in it. My father lashed out but my mum calmly corrected me. My dream of being a chef was literally going up in flames,” recalls Nato.

Nato headed to Nairobi in 2000, soon after sitting his Form Four exams at Kakamega High School. Passage of time had not erased his lifelong ambition of joining the catering industry. He hoped to make some money in the big city and join Utalii College.

“My dad would have preferred that I pursue a career in other ‘manly’ occupations rather than be a cook. But I decided to venture out into the unknown in the hope that I would see my dream come to fruition.”

As a ‘fresher’ from the countryside, Nato knew little of city hassle, leaving him exposed to the elements. He tried selling second hand clothes, waking up early and heading to the muddy puddle that is Gikomba Market.

HELPING HAND

But help was to come from a new friend by the name Peter Mutuku. Peter owned a matatu christened Nazizi plying the Lang’ata route. One day, his regular tout was late and he needed a helping hand. Nato, on the other hand, had woken up early hoping to get to Gikomba before daybreak.

 

“Peter asked me if l could help him woo prospective passengers into the matatu. This was a shocker. Coming from what I considered a ‘clean’ upbringing, this was one sector I never wanted to be associated with,” says Nato. But he tried, putting on a brave face and enduring the rigours of the journeys to and from the city. By the end of his shift, he had pocketed his first salary — Sh500.

“Peter thought I had done a good job and invited me to be a regular member of his crew. I soon got integrated into the famed matatu culture. My personality was getting more abrasive by the day,” says Nato.

Mutuku says: “Nato was too refined to be in the matatu industry. However, he was dependable and lacked the dishonest traits of makangas. I kept encouraging him to find his true calling as he could not hack it in the rough and tumble of the matatu industry.”

For the next three years, 2002 to 2005, Nato’s life took an unexpected turn. First, his father would hear little of the fact that his son was in the matatu industry.

One day, says Nato, his father came to Nairobi for a security meeting and wanted to meet him. His dad’s friend agreed to collect Nato from town and take him to Wilson Airport where his father was about to board a plane. Despite Nato’s pleas to go home  and change from the “dirty” maroon uniform, the driver insisted they go to Wilson first due to time constraints.

“I think my dad’s blood pressure shot up the moment he saw me in that uniform. He was visibly disturbed. He just stood there gazing at me. Finally, he gave me some money, wished me well and left,” Nato recalls.

Nato recalls many run-ins with security officers, carjackers and enraged customers.

“I remember one early morning when we had just picked up passengers from an undesignated stop. A senior traffic policeman waved us down but the driver sped off. What followed was a scary police chase. My driver was arrested while I managed to escape through the cemetery popularly known as makaburini along Uhuru Highway,” he says.

His eyes well up when recounting sleepless nights spent in police stations after being branded Mungiki or a Kamjesh sympathiser. He has endured the most insulting jibes from passengers.

“What else can life throw at you, really?” he poses.

But all this fades into insignificance when compared to what he went through at the hands of carjackers.

“One morning, three men boarded the matatu along Baricho Road and wanted to be dropped at Nyayo Highrise estate. They even offered to pay twice the normal fare. But on reaching Nyayo Stadium, they brandished weapons and robbed all the passengers. They beat me up when I told them I had no phone. It was tough. Matatu crew leave their homes in the morning never knowing whether they will ever get back,” he says.

In the meantime, Nato had applied for a food production course at Utalii College a few times. His big break came in 2005 when he was enrolled for a housekeeping and laundry course.

“This was not my preferred course. Sorting out ladies underwear and washing them was not what a man of my calibre had in mind. I remember the supervisor telling me to leave if I wasn’t interested. But I chose to stay when I remembered my previous life. My big ego had to go,” he says.

 

In 2006, Nato left Utalii College and has had several stints at various hotels in Nairobi, Mombasa and Quatar. He says being a concierge is a calling adding that only ten per cent of what they do is taught in class while the rest is a skill acquired from experience as well as the support of their networks.

Nato says being in the matatu industry has come in handy when it comes to managing guests. Says he: “I did not know how the two professions would ever link. I realise now that being in the matatu industry gave me some boldness that prepared me for my role as a concierge. I have mingled with all kinds of people who are now my biggest source of information.”

As a concierge at the hotel, Nato is among the first members of staff a guest encounters, and as they say, first impressions are lasting impressions. He is supposed to aware of all hotel operations so that he can pass on the correct information to visitors.

The father of one-month-old Michael says he is still in the matatu industry, but this time managing a bigger and more refined clientele.