Because, tell me why, ordering a car now feels like entering a situationship?
You’re not sure it’s coming.
You’re not sure it’s staying.
And you’re definitely not in control.
One afternoon, I opened the app… confident, hopeful, and ready to move like a soft-life citizen.
Every category said busy.
I refreshed. Busy.
Closed the app. Opened it again. Busy.
Switched to another app. Busy there too.
At some point, the only available option was a boda boda, and it was raining like the sky had personal issues.
I stared at my phone. The phone stared back.
We both knew that was not going to happen.
So I waited.
Ten minutes. Thirty minutes. One hour. At some point I stopped checking time and started checking my life choices.
And somewhere between refreshing apps and watching random cars pass me, cars that clearly had no intention of being mine it hit me… Ride-hailing is no longer predictable.
It is vibes. Pure vibes.
Because even when you finally get a ride… that’s just the beginning of the drama.
A driver accepts.
Immediately, your phone rings:
“Unaenda wapi?”
You answer politely. You even add a landmark for good measure.
Silence. Then, cancelled.
No explanation. No apology. Just rejection. Like you asked for too much in life.
You request again.
Another driver accepts. You hold your breath this time, like you’re waiting for exam results.
And just when you start believing, boom. Cancelled again.
At this point, it’s not transport. It’s character development.
And let’s say, by some miracle, the ride actually holds.
You now enter Phase Two: Locate Your Driver.
Because why is the car not moving? Why is the map frozen? Why is he somehow both “2 minutes away” and spiritually in another district?
Then the call comes, “Uko wapi hasa?”
Sir. The pin is right there. Glowing. Existing. Doing its job.
But no… now I must explain my location like I’m guiding someone through a treasure hunt.
“Unajua ile duka ya kona? Sasa pita kidogo… hapana, sio hapo…”
Congratulations, you are now the GPS.
Technology said, “I rest.”
Then comes the waiting game inside the waiting game.
The driver has accepted… but is not moving.
You stare at the map. The map stares back.
You want to cancel, but you remember there might be a cancellation fee.
So now you are stuck… in a relationship you didn’t even ask for.
Time is passing. Your mood is changing. Your patience is evaporating.
Convenience is watching.
And let’s talk about money, because ah, yes, the plot twist.
The price you saw? That was just a suggestion.
Rain falls… price goes up.
Traffic builds… price goes up.
You blink… The price goes up.
And sometimes the driver calls with that familiar line:
“Dada, ongeza kidogo tu.”
At this point, are we negotiating transport… or buying tomatoes at the market?
You agree because you’re tired. Or you refuse and start the whole process again.
Either way, you lose something… time, money, or peace of mind.
Now the car finally arrives.
You check the number plate. It’s… almost correct. The car model? Close enough. The condition? Let’s just say the car has lived.
You get in.
AC? Optional.
Silence? Also optional.
Your comfort? Negotiable.
Then the journey begins.
And suddenly, we are taking routes I have never seen in my entire life.
I’m watching the map like a hawk.
“Is this traffic avoidance… or are we touring the city?”
You consider speaking up, but what if the fare increases? What if it becomes awkward? What if you are wrong?
So you sit quietly. Calculating. Observing. Praying.
Because even when you do suggest a shortcut, the app might punish you for it.
Yes, trying to save time can actually cost you more.
Make it make sense.
Then there are the slightly… suspicious moments.
Like when a driver asks for your trip code before even arriving.
Sir, what exactly are we starting?
Or when the opposite happens.
You reach. You get out. You say thank you. You even rate in your heart.
But the trip? Still going.
The fare? Still increasing.
Now you’re calling the driver like, “Please end the ride. I beg. Let us all move on.”
And don’t even get me started on drop-offs.
“Nitakuacha hapa tu, ni karibu.”
Near WHERE?
Main road. Dark corner. Random junction. Suddenly, the final part of your journey is now a solo mission.
Convenience said, “I’ve done my part.”
You step out because arguing feels like too much work.
But now you’re walking. In the dark. Re-evaluating everything.
Even payment is its own episode.
You choose cashless, but the driver prefers cash.
You pay on the app, the driver says it hasn’t reflected.
You bring cash, there’s no change.
At some point, cash starts feeling like the only honest relationship in this whole situation.
No confusion. No pending. No drama.
Just closure.
And maybe that’s the thing.
None of these issues alone feels big enough to complain about loudly.
But together?
They change you.
Now I open three apps at once.
I screenshot fares like evidence.
I share my location before the ride even begins.
I mentally prepare to explain where I’m going and why.
I leave earlier. I plan backups. I lower expectations.
I think.
Constantly.
And that’s the real problem.
Technology is supposed to reduce thinking.
But if I have to negotiate, explain, monitor, confirm, and double-check everything…
Then, my dear, this is no longer convenience.
This is work.
And honestly?
I did not sign up for a full-time job just to get home.
