By Michela Wrong
Published: February 2 2008 02:00 | Last updated: February 2 2008 02:00
I'm a driver for the Star Liner bus company in Kenya. Two weeks after the elections, the situation appeared to have cooled a bit, so buses were starting to fill up with people from Kisumu on Lake Victoria returning to their jobs in Mombasa.
One day last month, I set off on that route with 47 passengers aboard.
As well as the conductor, the loader and me, we had a lot of women and children. I'd driven the route the day before without any problem.
At the town of Kaplong, we heard there was trouble ahead, so we diverted via Litein. We met the first roadblock at the first town after Litein. There were not hundreds, but thousands of men on the road, waving pangas (machetes), axes and rungus (clubs). They were shouting: ''We want revenge.'' They tried to open the doors, but we had removed the handles.
The ringleader told me to switch the engine off. The first question he asked was: ''Are you a Kikuyu?'' I didn't reply. I told him: ''We're just peaceful people, we have nothing to do with politics.'' Then he said that everyone on the bus had to get off with their ID cards ready. While he was saying this, the others were putting tyres and wood under the bus, preparing to set it on fire.
They were supporters of Raila Odinga, the opposition leader, and they were shouting: ''No Raila, no peace.''
Everyone in the back of the bus was totally silent. I think if we had got out at that moment, we would all have died. They would certainly have killed me, because I am a Kikuyu.
Then they began throwing rocks at the windows, the passengers started screaming and that's when I was hit in the head. I got into gear very fast, and I drove off at high speed and we jumped that roadblock. We thought it would be all over after that, but the worst was still ahead. It seems the people at the roadblocks were communicating with each other. They believed that we were coming from Kisii, where people voted for Kibaki, and carrying Kisii people aboard. In fact there were no Kisii on the bus, only Luo and Luhya.
We went through one roadblock after another. The passengers told me later we jumped 15 in total. I didn't have time to count, I was just driving as fast as I could, totally traumatised. At the last block I realised we would not be able to jump it. I could see it from a long way off, it was the biggest roadblock yet, made of huge metal water-tankers, rocks and electricity poles.
I said to myself: ''We cannot make it.'' But there were some police officers among the passengers, and they had been calling colleagues ahead to tell them we were in trouble. We slowed down. We stopped 100m from the barrier. The passengers were praying. And just as a crowd was running towards the bus, waving pangas and axes, I heard gunshots and realised there was security in that place.
When the police surrounded the bus, and the passengers realised we were safe, they ran out, forgetting their belongings, their children. Can you imagine being that frightened? The police took the bus to a compound and guarded it till midnight, and then we drove to Bomet police station - stones were hurled at us the whole way.
The next day we were escorted to Narok and there we heard that the road was clear and so we drove to Nairobi on our own, with the wind and dust coming in, because all the windows were gone. My conductor and my loader told me afterwards: ''We always thought you were experienced, but now we know, you really are a professional driver.'' When my passengers got off, they said: ''You saved our lives.'' But I told them: ''Life is from God, and this was just a miracle.''
I don't know how I made it through all those roadblocks. And you know what? My bus didn't break even a spring, even a tyre. It was a total miracle.
As told to Michela Wrong.
http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/1ab1b352-d133 ... ck_check=1
