Africa
The conductor picked his way down the aisle, collecting fares, making change and giving tickets.
"All the way to Machakos?" he asked Kioko's grandfather.
"Yes, to the end."
"Eighteen shillings for two."
"Eighteen?" his grandfather asked. "He is so small, you should only charge half the fare for him."
"He is small. If you want a cheaper fare, we can tie his feet together like the chickens and put him on the roof."
For a moment, Kioko thought they were serious, but then the men laughed.
The conductor picked his way down the aisle, collecting fares, making change and giving tickets.
"All the way to Machakos?" he asked Kioko's grandfather.
"Yes, to the end."
"Eighteen shillings for two."
"Eighteen?" his grandfather asked. "He is so small, you should only charge half the fare for him."
"He is small. If you want a cheaper fare, we can tie his feet together like the chickens and put him on the roof."
For a moment, Kioko thought they were serious, but then the men laughed.
Safiyah stared into the distance. If she looked hard enough, perhaps she could see all the way to her village. If she were a bird, how easy it would be to fly home again.
But she wasn't a bird. And between here and the home she missed so much were the crowded shacks of the slum and the endless maze of buildings and alleys of Nairobi. Beyond Nairobi were roads that ran in all directions, like dark snakes.
