The queue secret

There is always a queue everywhere you go in this country. What amazes me is the secrecy that the queuers carry themselves with. If you lean forward and ask one, “Boss hii laini ni ya nini?”(boss, why are these people queueing?) The guy will not even accord you an eye contact. They will just continue thumbing the screen of their phones as if you didn't ask a question. They act as though you are trying to sell them libido enhancing drugs and they can't buy because they fear being judged.

Then you will ask another one, a polite one. One that carries a small Bible in his jacket pocket and is probably listening to Sinach. You have to tap him on the shoulder because he is soaked into the music in his earphones. He will remove one earphone and look at you with a smirk because you interrupted his praise and worship session.
“Boss hii laini ni ya nini?” The guy will tell you, “My brother, hata mimi sijui ni ya nini, nimepata watu wakipanga hata mimi nikasema nipange. Unajua wanaweza kua wanapewa pesa”(my brother, I don't know what queue this is. I found them queueing and I too decided to join them. Perhaps they are queueing for money). One good Kenyan will tell you, “Ah, hii ni ya gari za kuenda Thika. Ya pizza iko pale opposite"(we're waiting for a Thika-bound bus. The queue to the pizza shop is over there). They have assessed you and surmised that you are looking for buy-one-get-one pizza, but in the wrong queue. You will offer a quick "asante"(thank you) and cross over.

Right opposite you will see another queue. And even there, nobody will be willing to tell you what they are queuing for. Queue information is shared like contraband goods in this country.