(LEAH GACHUHI) God knows I like cars; I really do. I just don’t understand the fascination with the brand names. Maybe it’s my Kikuyu heritage – one of those, as long as it gets you there, I’ll be happy-it-did-the-job kinda deal?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a Probox lover. Hell no, I might have an affinity towards Vitz’s though because it was one of the first cars my friend bought and I was very proud of her… but I just don’t get it.
I recently read that Kanyeezy(West)’s girlie bought him (and I had to google this one) a Lamborghini worth $750,000. I added some zeros, multiplied by 84 and wiped my brow thinking I’d be grateful if I could ever buy the father of my future children a Range Rover, let alone a car that isn’t designed for our dynamic roads.
And by dynamic, you know I mean ever changing; one day there’s a road here next it’s a gaping hole with a miasma of life forms trying to crawl out and bring you back in. I’m positive that’s where zombies will be spawned – one hapless fellow who falls in and comes out reborn… or dead (undead?). I digress.
I still struggle to tell you what a “Merc” or “shinde” is. It’s just not in my DNA. 3, 6, 10 series? What’s that!? Is it fast, reliable and I mean reliably clinging to the road? You know, like a voluptuous African woman swinging her hips from side to side, with a pot perched on her head and a suckling babe at her breast when it goes to market?
Is it able to give me “miles for the dollar” or whatever it is people say?
I want a non-guzzler that can take me to Macha(kos) for Rhino Charge or to Crowne Plaza without batting a dust coated eyelash. A car that can fit three of my ample-bodied friends comfortably without scraping the bottom of a pothole in Grogon (which is where I take my car for a service).
I need a car that will help me understand instructions from people in Maralal; that will evade the tyre pinching fingers of those guys in Buruburu, that will clean itself when a pal pours their wine all over the dashboard and give me a massage when I’m having back problems.
And these back problems shall never come from my lovely vehicle. No, this imaginary vehicle will be designed to help me NEVER feel ruts or potholes ever!
Until then, I’m stuck with my lovely Toyota Corolla 110. Or until some car company understands that despite my lack of brand savvy-ness when it comes to vehicles that I am a worthy brand ambassador for women of all ages and all races. Can I get a yes ma’am?
