If you didn't know, I'm a driver. I quite enjoy operating an automobile. Especially those that respond well when I decide to really go all out. One simple rule I have is that I don't give lifts to random strangers on the road. Even if it's a really hot chick. That's how people lose their lives.
But one day, something happened. You could call it the odd day when rules just don't stand to be kept. It was new year's eve 2009 and I had taken a few friends to Rolf's place in kitengela for a round of paintball. I had to leave there earlier than them to make it in time to pick a jacket I'd dropped in the laundry earlier that weekend. So, I drove my boy's Toyota Platz there to serve as my escape plan.
Suffice to say, paintball was killer fun so by the time I checked my watch I had less than an hour to drive from deep inside kitengela till kileleshwa to make it before the laundry closed for the holiday. Being that I HAD TO look fabulous that night, I set out from Rolf's in a rally like mood (this is the point I pray the owner of that car doesn't read my blog :-)
As if to throw a spanner in the works, very omnious clouds had been gathering all day and they chose that exact moment to weep bitterly for my now seemingly impossible mission. Murphy and his laws definitely had it in for me just then.
So I was slip sliding down the masai lodge road in the rain with a worried eye on my in-dash clock when I noticed this ancient looking bloke struggling to keep his balance in the mud. A part of me wanted to ignore him and zoom past but an even greater part of me convinced my foot to step on the brake pedal. The old man didn't realize I was offering him a ride even after I leaned over and opened the door for him. I think he couldn't believe someone on that road had stopped to give him a lift.
So, when he got into the car he was thanking me profusely for getting him outta the rain. And for the short while that we rode together in that little Platz (he lived just down the road so it was a 15 minute drive there) he regaled me with stories about his youth and how he'd ended up employed at a well know eatery in that area. And wasn't he entertaining. The bits I can remember are that he was in Daudi Kabaka's band back in the day and when he left the band he went to work as a mechanic at a car dealership in the city, a job he'd retired from in the 90s. He was working at the eatery to feed his family, grandchildren included. He also told me about his love for cars and how he'd spend his sunday mornings maintaining his old Ford Anglia. That's the point I arrived outside his gate and had to politely refuse his invitations to come inside for some tea.
I eventually made it to kileleshwa just in time to catch the laundry before they closed. I won't disclose what speeds I attained going down Langata road. When I later thought about the smile that old man had on his face when he was stepping out of the car, I felt so good about myself. In the midst of all my rushing, I had taken a risk and performed a random act of kindness that I'm sure the old man will not forget soon . I know he's still going strong. When I pass by his gate on my way to Rolf's on a sunday, I always see his Anglia with all doors open getting the weekly maintenance regime. I plan to pay him a visit one day very soon and maybe purchase the Anglia. I hope he'll be able to sell that beautiful piece of machinery to me.
So anyway, the moral of the story is that you should be willing at all times to give service because what counts in life is what we we do for others. And with that, feel free to visit the comments section below and tell me what random acts of kindness you've had :-D
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