Mwende's Notebook

The chill that is biting my ungloved hands is immense. I am sitted at the 7A seat on an Easy Coach Premier, coming from what my mom may call a life saving mission. I would also call it that, but I am one with a habit of giving credit to whom it belongs to.

In this moment, a stone has been hurled at our bus windscreen, (I do not know by whom), and I have been jolted back from dreamland just when I was washing my hands at the door to settle in. I am suffering the superstitious ” Hii Safari imeanza vibaya” thoughts, just as the lady seated at 7B whom I assisted lean in her seat when we departed. There is something about me and making a raport with strangers in travel. You never know. For instance, I helped this one lean in because she looked tired but…

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