Navigating the chaotic traffic of Kinshasa is like stepping into a real-life video game where the rules are made up and the lanes don't matter. Imagine driving through a city where your car isn't just a vehicle but a pawn in a massive chess game of vehicular strategy. My driver, a true master of shortcuts, finally met his match on the notorious N1 highway. He had exhausted all his tricks, and we were forced to join the stream of cars. I was relieved I had insisted on leaving for Njili International Airport an hour earlier than he had suggested, but at one point, I was convinced we might need a time machine to make my flight.
Then there are the infamous yellow matatus, the daredevils of the road. While everyone else is stuck in gridlock, these yellow taxis and buses are like acrobats, squeezing through the tightest gaps with the grace of a ballerina. They may not be the prettiest vehicles, with dents and scratches telling tales of past adventures, but they sure know how to dance through traffic. There are no matatus without the touts. The fishers of man. One chases after the taxi bus as it slows down. He jumps to grab the door handle and misses at the first try, gathers himself and has another go and this time he holds on the the bars swinging in and out excitedly. These are experts specialised in the art of barking instructions to would be passengers from directions to the fare price. If you are too slow they won't hesitate to grab you bags and load them up for you. A friend often said its like all across Africa matatus drivers, the conductors and touts were all born by a single mother for they behave the same. Recalling an incident in Harare, things got so wild that two sisters were nearly taxi-napped by rival touts, each one snatching a sister for their own ride until passengers played referee!
Anyway back to Kinshasa, as we crept forward, my driver pulled off a daring maneuver - latching behind one of the taxis like a barnacle he followed every turn and never let go. He was on a mission, refusing to let go. It felt like a high-stakes round of follow-the-leader, pushing the boundaries of how snugly we could trail without a paint-swapping mishap. In this real-life traffic drama, it's those bold enough to court the risk of a scratched car who ultimately make their way through the chaotic tangle of vehicles. And let's not forget the piki pikis, the motorbikes weaving through traffic with the agility of ninjas, dodging not just cars but also dodgy hawkers peddling everything from water bottles, bread to phone chargers. Pedestrians are left to fend for themselves, playing a risky game of chicken with the oncoming traffic. Here is the protocol, wave your hand make your move and pray the cars will stop.
In the midst of the commotion, you'll find these enigmatic young observers, perched on concrete pillars like contemporary philosophers, quietly taking in the bustling spectacle. Their ability to remain composed amidst the sweltering heat of Kinshasa's traffic jungle is a mystery that may never be unraveled. If they share any resemblance to the spirited Zimbo youth who also frequent the neighborhood drainage lines and bridges, they're likely crafting the freshest tunes and slang that illuminate and dominant the lingo in the vibrant streets of Kinshasa. Despite the slow crawl forward, one can't help but ponder the cost of all this madness - the lost productivity, the fuel burned idling in traffic, and the pollution clogging the air. Perhaps it's time for Kinshasa to rethink its transportation system and introduce a more efficient public transport system. After all, even the most entertaining circus eventually needs a smoother act to keep the show going. Always plan ahead and add a buffer of at least two extra hours wherever you go. Nairobi's traffic used to mirror this chaos, but the city has since made a turnaround. One day, Kinshasa will follow suit. Until then, the vibrant yellow glow and audacious maneuvers continue to reign supreme on its bustling streets, painting a picture of untamed urban energy.
