Piss of mind: Why travellers irrigate the nation, pollute the air

Long-distance travel in public service vehicles is not for the fainthearted. First, you have to navigate through the chaos of Nairobi’s traffic to the bus stop, where your nose is instantly assailed by the whiff of stale urine.

Once seated, hawkers swarm all over the windows, trying to sell you everything from padlocks to underwear and windscreen wipers. Then in the middle of the madness steps a street preacher swearing damnation for fornicators and witches before launching into a fervent prayer to navigate you safely down Kenya’s blood-soaked highways teeming with the ghosts of accident victims long departed. It is some sort of psychological blackmail, for which you are obliged to fling a few coins into a hat. Call it additional insurance.