Gifts from strangers at the Hub in Karen that left my cup running over with gratitude

I was at the Hub, Karen, in midweek, doing this and that, testing those who came my way in a variety of ways. The first move was to reject a perfectly made salad because it had been splashed with mayonnaise.

Yes, I know some of you would gulp that with relish, but I don’t. The folks at the Art Café joyfully offered to replace it, even after I half-heartedly offered to take it because I couldn’t die from it, but the female supervisor (I didn’t get her name), assured it was her business to ensure I ate right.

Eddy Kuria, who served me from beginning to end, however, was extremely generous, able to accommodate my many demands. First off, I said I’d be stepping out, could he watch over my table? Certainly, came the response.

All this while, I hadn’t paid, and I have lately been visiting places where they ask you to pay ahead, lest you jump from tenth floor to escape a Sh150 tab.

I stayed on for long—long enough to rack up some Sh500 in parking fees—including detours that I will not declare because folks at the Kenya Revenue Authority might institute a lifestyle audit. By the way, KRA have been demanding back taxes for what my employer has paid, because taxes are deducted at source—so I have learnt to ignore them.

Since I don’t recall when I last had cash on me, and the Kaps app was predictably not working when I needed it, I couldn’t quite settle my parking tab. Once again, the supportive vibe that I had enjoyed all day, including at La Cascina, where Virginia Karanja offered to keep my stuff as I went manga-mangaring, it fell to Helen Bokea to sort my parking fees.

Helen had arrived to pay for her own ticket. She had also tried to use the Kaps app unsuccessfully. “It so happens that I have cash on me, which is rare, so I’m going to open a bureau here and help with parking fees,” she chuckled. “I hope your bill isn’t Sh500,” she told a woman who lined up for help, after me.