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Photo by Mario Ayala via dribble

It might be safe to assume you do not have a personal chauffeur if you aren’t in the 1%. Save for the occasional COVID Uber where you ride back left with a little less than the stipulated social distance between you and the driver in the jam-weaving Suzuki Alto 400. However, using taxi-hailing applications on the regular wouldn't amount to a financially sustainable practice - unless you are Bezos, at which point you might as well own the franchise and its competitors.

So, reliable public transport is the way to ride. However, the term reliable has lost its lustre to a point we do not consider all it encompasses: proper pricing, predictable routes, effective communication and calculable timing. No one, forgive the generalisation, living in the outskirts of Nairobi can say, "I paid normal fare rates despite it raining cats and dogs", not with their chest! Meaning people have had to stow their pride and make the tuma kitu call that they had sworn a month's salary against.

It's evening, you have successfully wrestled other anxious commuters for a seat on what seems to be the last matatu to a Rongai/Kitengela hybrid location. To top it off you managed to secure a window seat (pre-COVID, you would qualify for knighthood). You close your eyes in relief and are overcome with sleep: you've earned it anyway and yours is the last stop.

Mid travel the matatu takes an unusual turn which cues your mind to play out all the 100 ways to die episodes you watched in the early 2000s. The horrific tales of wrong turns leading to robbery and abandonment start to swarm. "Are you forgetting the number of times a makanga has yelled, mwisho oya at a location unrecognisable by Google maps on a Monday morning?" the voice in your head hisses. "But there are instances we have mercifully been traded to another matatu that got us to our intended terminus," you sleepily argue with yourself.

Now, the choice to take a less travelled road is because communication among matatu drivers is undisputed. They'll alert each other about traffic-laden routes and perceivably unnecessary crackdowns leading to these evasive manoeuvres. Sadly, the staff forget to share this breaking news with their passengers! So, you are left seated in a clueless daze, clutching at your rosery with the Bible app open to that verse on protection praying to get to familiar grounds.

Photo by Anuja Tilj from Pexels

After an eternity, you spot the local Shell petrol station and a suppressed smile plays on your lips as a cheers baba to the Almighty for arriving within walking distance of your residence. You can now stash the hail Mary and anticipate the next adventure.

I am not evangelising that there is a silver bullet that will end all of the public road transport system woes but surely there must be steps we could make towards pleasant commutes, right? For starters communicating clearly and promptly with commuters would go a long way in easing the tensions of travel. And yes, getting from town to Athi River is travelling. Among themselves, the matatu staff already have correspondence down to an art. Externalising this information means letting Wakenya wenzao in on the route changes that the bus will make, and showing the newbies where to alight. It will take minimal effort while making for a relaxed commuter experience.

Secondly, a publicly accessible matatu timetable wouldn't be a bad idea. Stick a laminated print version on the bus stop sign post, have a USSD code version for the kabambe nobles, a smartphone app (because there is an app for everything nowadays) and for those of us with limited phone capacity, a website will be greatly APPreciated. We've been using the damn things all through pre-adulthood, why do timetables suddenly cease having utility outside of school?
Lastly, accessibility. Empathetically, I can at best imagine what a nightmare public mobility is for those in a wheelchair. Even so, my presumptions could scarcely compare to their actual experiences. And although the term disability is a broad one, including people with physical, mental and sensory impairment, if we are unable to design for the disabilities we can see, how can we expect to do so for the invisible ones?
Just so we are clear, designing for them means with them. Without a participatory approach, the end result may be value-deficient despite good intentions. However, understanding what challenges they face during the entire process, from getting to the initial bus stop to alighting will provide crucial insight for truly impactful designs. A literal journey map, if you will.
Anyhow, knowing when and where to board and alight from a matatu would save all stakeholders copious amounts of money in the currency of both time and cold hard cash. There would be fewer matatus parked by the roadside, blocking the traffic flow and harassing pedestrians to become passengers. Needless to say, without adhering to the timetable, we might as well keep operating as we are right now. Perhaps local case studies of taxi-hailing companies should be an alternative to the costly international benchma- well, you know.
Mobility is more than moving from point A to B. It is an entire experience and seeing it for what it is -a service- would drastically change how we design the system and who we design with i.e behavioural scientists, engineers, community members as well matatu staff and owners. What are some thoughts you have about our public transport? Not excluding BRT and the expressway :)