Let's save children from killer roads

African roads are the most dangerous in the world. Despite the fact that Africa possesses only 2 per cent of all the world’s vehicles, 20 per cent of all road deaths happen on this continent.

To make it worse, 21 per cent of fatalities are children. Here in Kenya, nearly 620 children under the age of 16 died from road accidents in 2014.

Children continue to bear the brunt of our reckless attitude and a road rage culture driven by a generation whose thirst for speed is yet to find a destination.

Slightly over three decades ago, I can’t remember the exact date - but I know it was a weekday  - I had just left home after changing from my school uniform.

I was on my way to the neighbouring Buru Buru Phase One estate to visit my friend Boniface. I was only 8 years old.

To get there I had to cross a huge road, or so it seemed to me at the time, but this was really the highway that separated our residential estate from ‘Buru Phase One’.

I was careful to remember the instructions from our class teacher on the rules of crossing a road. “Look to your right, then left, then look right again. If the road is clear, then you can safely cross.”

I followed the instructions to the letter. However, there was a matatu on my right that had not moved for a while. I vaguely remembered this innocuous fact even as I confidently strode into the road after checking the left side was clear.

Without any warning, the world began to spin inexplicably.

I could taste metal in my mouth, and my right side was suddenly aching. When the spinning stopped, I found myself lying on the other side of the road looking at a clear blue sky.

This was quickly obscured by the shadow of concerned faces staring down at me. I tried getting up, but my legs suddenly gave way. I felt so weak.

Like I had walked for miles without resting. Strong hands reached out for me. Men shouting, “Fungua gari apelekwe hospitali.” (Put him in the car so we can take him to hospital).

The next moment I was being placed gently in the back seat of saloon vehicle. I only remember it was white. Then the car sped off, driven by a lady driver.

She kept looking back at me, a worried expression on her face, telling me everything would be fine as soon as we reached the hospital.

I later learnt this was the Aga Khan hospital. And the lady who had took me there was the one who had knocked me down with her car.

She had lost her patience waiting for the matatu to move. She decided to overtake only to suddenly see a small boy crossing the road right in front of the stationary PSV but was unable to stop in time.

An average of two children each day go through similar painful experiences on Kenyan roads. Most do not survive to tell the tale. Most of us will hopefully never have to feel the pain their families went through while grappling with their premature deaths.

In the case of survivors, many are left maimed for life and unable to take care of themselves.

Well, 33 years later, I can’t help but wonder about the irony of working for a global vehicle manufacturer, three decades after my life was nearly snuffed out by the very products I’m now helping to market.

The silver lining in this story is I am part of a team from General Motors that is working closely with the Automobile Association of Kenya to highlight the issue of road safety for Kenyan school children. Together with our partners, we have so far reached over 150 children across the country.

This initiative is in support of the United Nations Save Kids Lives 2015 Global Road Safety campaign.

Participating schools have signed a Child Declaration for Road Safety document calling on global leaders to implement tough measures to ensure the safety of children on the road.

We are hopeful that the voices of these young children will move concerned authorities into action to stem the needless accidents on our roads.