To Drive or Not To Drive

I have a driving license. It was my aunt who took me to a driving school. Budget driving school in Eldoret town. The reason why she took me to a driving school is because “she wanted me to drive her to work and not her driving me to work.”  Yes, those were the exact words. You see, I was living with her and working for her in her Women’s health products shop. Every morning, we would leave the house together and because I did not know how to drive, she would take the driver’s seat and I would take the front left seat, a seat meant for big people. Bosses. In the evening after closing the shop, she would drive me back to the house. It was as if I was the one who employed her and not the other way round. It was weird. Even me I felt it.

It took me only two months and I was ready to take the final driving test. I still had one more month of practical lessons but I felt I had had enough. The group of trainees who joined earlier than me were having the final test. I requested my instructor to allow me take the test with them and he agreed. This was against the school’s rules but my instructor also thought that I was ready. I took the test and passed. That was in April, 2012.

My driving license was ready after three months but I collected it in December, the same year. With it, I was ready to hit the highway. The only problem was that I did not have a car. My aunt thought I was rushed through the driving lessons and so she never trusted me to drive her. She did not want to gamble her life with a half-baked driver. I was eager to drive. I think it happens to everyone who learns a new thing. You just feel like doing it again and again and again. You cannot get enough of it. Just like learning how to ride a bicycle.

I remember how, after learning how to ride a bicycle, my brother and I would not let our father’s bicycle rest. We would take it as soon as he packs it in front of the house. We would disappear with it and only return after one or both of us suffered a severe injury. But even that would not deter us from taking it again tomorrow. We could not get enough of it. To us, every resting bicycle was a chance to further our expertise. One day we took a visitor’s bicycle and disappeared with it. The visitor had to wait for close to four hours. Our father was furious. When we returned, we received a beating of our lives. From there onwards, we started pleading with our father to buy us our own bicycles. He ignored us.

But my aunt did not entirely ignore my pleas to let me drive. One evening, on our way back to the house from town, she stopped the car and told me to take the driver’s seat. I was reluctant. She handed over the keys to me and told me to drive all the way home. I started sweating. Not because I did not believe in myself but because there were so many people in the car. We had just picked up her three daughters who had come to visit from Nairobi. One had travelled all the way from United Kingdom. I did not want to embarrass myself in front of them, especially in front of the one from U.K. Something told me to refuse but then again, this was my first chance to prove to my aunt that I can actually drive.

I took the keys, jumped into the driver’s seat, said a short prayer and then inserted the key inside the ignition hole.Oops, the idea of inserting something inside a hole sounds a bit too much but that was it. I twitched the key, just like I was taught in the driving school but nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing. I was now sweating all over. The sweat made my palms to become slippery. I could not even grip the steering wheel properly. I tried the ignition again but nothing. I looked at my aunt. She gave me the “I told you you can’t drive” look. My heart sank. My forth attempt worked. The car was roaring, ready to go. Now it was up to me to engage the right gears and then step on the accelerator with my hands on the steering wheel and my eyes on the road. The image of my instructor yelling in my ears,” Keep your eyes on the road while engaging the gears” flashed across my eyes and I adjusted my sitting position to an upright posture. After engaging the gears, I slowly released the clutch while simultaneously stepping on the accelerator. The car moved a few meters and then stopped, FOR LIFE.

*

The mechanic who was phoned was the one who cleared my name. After a thorough inspection, he confirmed what I thought might have been the problem. He said the car developed a mechanical problem and that I had nothing to do with it. My being on the driver’s seat was pure bad luck. Not at all related or connected to my training as a driver. I heaved a sigh of relief but a small lump still lingered in my heart. My only chance to convince my aunt that I could drive was squashed. Forever, perhaps.

One month. Two month. Three, Four. Five months passed before I could get a chance to put my driving skills into practice. I was on the verge of rusting. I even started fearing cars.  I started doubting my ability to drive. So many “what ifs” questions ran through my mind. And then my aunt bought a new car. An automatic car. She sold the old one. My worries doubled. I had never driven an automatic car. In the school, we were only taught how to drive a manual car. Another thing, will she allow me to drive this new one? She did not.

One Saturday, she left for the countryside using a public means of transport. She left the car neatly parked in front of the house. It was a normal day for me. I woke up and after a quick shower, I went to the kitchen to serve myself tea. I took the tea in the sitting room while leafing through the Saturday Newspaper. When I was done, I went to my room to pick my bag. Then went back to the sitting room to pick the office keys. That is when I saw them. The car keys. They were placed just next to the Television. I could have ignored them but they seemed to be talking to me. Telling me to be a man. Inviting me to pick them up and go for a drive. A cruise along the main highway. Or a road test. Just a short ride to the gate if I am afraid of being caught. I hesitated but the keys kept talking to me. Pleading with me not to waste this golden opportunity to prove that I can still drive. Telling me not to be afraid. That my aunt has gone to Siaya and she will not be back until tomorrow. That I can even go to town with the car, park it in front of the shop and then drive it back to the estate in the evening. What is the big deal?

I did not answer the car keys. I just grabbed them and, once seated on the driver’s seat, inserted the long one inside the ignition hole. Yeah, I know. Another hole and another inserting but what was I supposed to do? The car came to life. I had watched my aunt drive this automatic car for long and so getting my way around it was super easy for me. And just like that, I reversed and off I vroomed. Past the gate, down the estate road. Eased the car slowly passed the Sosiani River Bridge and then climbed up. Past Moi Teaching and referral Hospital and after negotiating a few corners, I found myself on the main Uganda-Nairobi highway. I sped off towards Moi University, school of law (Annex campus). My plan was to branch off in the next road leading back to Elgon View estate but when I approached one just past Annex, something told me to proceed a little further.  I obeyed and sped off towards Nairobi. Should I go up to Cheptiret? Or even up to Main campus? Yes, I think I should.

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