Day my dream turned into a nightmare in three short hours

NAIROBI: I was making my annual trip to the barber when the rains came, so I was in that space between sleep and wakefulness, when I hear things without registering them.

But I thought I heard Evans, my barber of six years – which means I have shaved my hair in the same style for as long, say it was raining so hard, some vehicles were on the verge of submerging outside Kenyatta Avenue.

Still, I kept my eyes shut, partly because I was drunk with sleep, or it could be that I was determined to avoid witnessing the humiliating spectacles of grown and greying men go through the motions of dyeing their hair black, or having their pates shaven clean to remove any hints of grey.

I must have remained suspended in that in-between world of sleep and wakefulness for a long time, for when I finally woke up, it was dark. And when I stepped out, there were only light showers and the roads were clear, so I concluded that I hadn’t heard right about flooding roads.

But when I hit the road, I could see small tributaries had formed, one such stream flowed down Dennis Pritt Road. Still, I could not understand why Mombasa Road wasn’t moving, taking three hours to make it to Standard Group Centre, only seven kilometres away.

More impatient motorists drove on the wrong side of the road, congesting things even more when they attempted to return to proper road around Enterprise Road intersection.

I saw the results of the rains that Evans the barber had witnessed while I slept: A massive river that gave an angry roar and threatened to sweep everything downstream. I made a similar roar as I navigated out of harm’s way, wishing I had the power to drive city leadership out of town for criminal dereliction of duty.