I mean, I’m London born and bred so there’s not much that phases me city-wise, but I take off my hat to the resourcefulness of Nairobi beggars.
Hours after arriving in the country I’m in a car and we stop at a red light. My window is down (yes I know, but I hadn’t yet experienced how the place earned its nickname ‘Nairobbery’) and I spot a shady type approaching driver-side. An old hand at this, my driver’s window is already closed and airtight. He tells me to quickly wind up mine and to watch what was about to happen.
The real Slim Shady reaches my driver’s window and looks in but decides against plea-bargaining as he notices the car in front of us still has open windows. He approaches stealthily and catches the driver unawares. After refusing to hand over any money the beggar strikes. He raises his hand and, at point blank range and with great force, he launches a plastic bag full into the face of the driver. The bag explodes on impact and the man stands back to admire his handiwork. The driver had been drenched in that morning’s freshly squeezed, still-steaming shit.
You have to admire his home-made weaponry.