Koros lay on his bike daydreaming, he had been second guessing himself a lot lately. He had moved in to the city hoping to thrive in a place rich with opportunity. His high school education didn’t mean much to many. The big deal was a degree. He knew he didn’t have the money and figured that he could find a way in on a full scholarship at what he considered the fanciest University in Nairobi, USIU. He had heard that it was little America. He wanted to go to America. And he knew he could get a student loan or work part time in school if he gave it a shot.
Koros did give it a shot, he interviewed and passed the entry exam and was ready to pursue his degree in Business. But all that came to a halt when he realized that he could not afford to pay back the student loans that were accumulating. His GPA was above average, but not high enough to get a scholarship.
And just like that at the end of his second year Koros became the guy fighting to drop and pick students on his motorcycle taxi and not the one who hailed them. Koros was ashamed of himself. “When I was at home in Kericho I had more fight in me, what happened? What? Why did I give up so easy, Can’t I find work that I can do part time and make money to pay? I can, but it is 300,000 now, I can’t afford more debt. But you are Koros, industrious.” Koros would talk to himself every day having that same conversation in his mind.
One day as Koros lay on his bike watching his collegues fight for clientele, he didn’t budge. Not even the annoying swirls and incessant driving up and down other boda boda riders do to kill boredom, nothing. He just stared.
“Sasa! Safari Park Hotel Ngapi?” A passenger inquired disrupting the tumultuous debate in his mind. Koros was startled and grunted. “Huh?” he remarked the passenger inquiring again, he said the amount and cranked his 85 cc engine and they were off. From his rearview mirror Koros saw the passenger was carrying a course text on Management. He recognized it.
“Management I see?” He spoke, his voice dwarfed by the sound of the engine. The passenger didn’t hear him. Instead he tapped him on the back. He had arrived at his destination and hopped off. “Management.” Koros said again this time the passenger heard and froze. He turned back toward Koros.
“What do you know about management?” The passenger asked in condescencion, what would a mere boda boda driver understand about business or finance? Koros smiled.
“More than you can ever know.” The passenger shook his head.
“How’s the strategic business management section treating you?” The passenger laughed.
“No way you know that! Try me,” The passenger taunted.
“Heard of Porter’s generic strategy?” Koros smiled.
“No way you would know that!”
“Try me!” Koros taunted back sarcastically. “Look man! Just because I am one of many people in mundane work doesn’t mean I am dumb and clueless of the higher echelons of knowledge and professions.”
The passenger was quiet and stunned.
“Yes, I speak big words too!” Koros shook his head fed up of being lumped up as a stereotype of the rogue, semi literate, poor and meager earning boda boda guy.
“Ok, you got me, I am sorry for judging you. You work here through and through?”
“Ok then, see you next week, we might just be able to help each other out.”
And just like that Koros was back, taking back his power and resolve to be the business executive he had always wanted to be.