Stories from the banking hall
People out here are angry, really angry. I know this is no way to start a story, but relax it's heading somewhere, I promise. It's a chilly morning and I'm at a bank waiting for my turn to be served, service yao ilikuwa imeanza kusumbua from Monday, but hey, that's a story for another time. I could feel like I was a bit out of place, you know? because the last time I remember I was in a bank was many years ago, when I was on campus, paying for my fees. Mzazi aliniamia bana, alijua ningepata guts, temptations za kukula fee ingekam, ningejua venye ningeilipa. So where was I? Oh yes, there is this guy who is seated like 2 or three seats away from me, bigger and older than me from the looks of it, looks like a business man, or in lay man terms jamaa wa madeals. After a few minutes waiting, he starts getting impatient, and frustrated so he starts complaining, why is the service taking so long, can't they go a little faster, and so on and so forth. I'm seated ther...