Twinges of Customer Service in Mombasa.

I haven't lived or known any other place better than the Coast of Kenya, Mombasa, to be exact.The interaction and the co existence is quite okay. The relations with outsiders, not so bad. Yeah, not so bad. At most they're from out and they deserve slight hospitality but not the all.

There's something particular about businesses in Mombasa. It got a Central Business District of its own very well yes, but amazingly enough the people from Mombasa are not "CEO's" in such thriving businesses. From high school, not quite exposed by then, I would really wonder why this happens so. Personally, am much passionate about opening my own shop, chains of shops precisely but would really want to know why people in Mombasa are never emancipated or moved to open any. Niches are there, many market niches I wouldn't lie. But why? You wouldn't find a buibui lady neither would you find a typical man, and when you do, they are manning the shop, that's not theirs.

This day came. Just after my finals. I had started a one-month fitness schedule, shading the extra we say. Each good day after, I would pass through a narrow walkway, so on this particular day, I realised there was a juice and fruits parlour close by. As hungry as I was, I ran like a hyena on sight of a carcass. Fresh pressed juice on sale! To make it sound better, a native Swahili lady owned it. "Yaaaas! This is all I needed." I thought. A glass was going for fifty shillings, very reasonable. But as my jubilant mood took the best part of me, I just realised there was no welcoming nor customer embrace. I stood for around five minutes. Then the lady shouted.

      "Sasa umesimama unataka tukusaidie vipi!"

It was so unexpected. I just walked away. The nice fresh smell of fresh juice was now smelling like rotten eggs. Does she actually think am so desperate for her juice? I was done. I expected her to attend to me. I cannot stand and just order, I need to know what is available, who was to tell me this, if not her?

That aside, my friends and I remember the day we took a matatu very early in the morning to attend an annual forum at the social hall. Feeling involved and part of the society we were very eager for the day. Before we'd chose which matatu was friendly we just got in one, it looked nice and cozy, that's the most we needed from a pleasant morning. Off we went. He took the fare and by my side a lady was less 10 shillings. I was not so engrossed in their conversation till it got bad, bad words and raw sounds. God help us! The lady's face was burning red. I would feel her rage. Its more of human to understand that she missed 10 bob, but the scoldings and scorns were really loud we could not take it. Even after paying, he would still murmur. This irritated me big time. It would not even buy a packet of sugar, neither breakfast. Most I could do from 10 shillings was buy airtime, which gets done sooner than you know it!

Our finals results were out, not as bad as we had expected but good enough to get us entrances to Universities, with quite good courses. As part of the formality, a stamp was needed from the education offices. My first time here, from the sight of the office set up, I didn't like it. There was smoke smell, littered all over and houseflies swinging to their best. The furniture was very old. Am quite heavy, was so afraid I would break the benches if I would seat, I didn't. I got so sweaty in a minute. The ladies would not attend to us. They were talking about a colleague's wedding, how it was a big fail. Laughing out to the top of their voices. Something was stirring hot in me, I gained courage, moved forward kindly requesting the lady to assist me. She lowered her spectacles, and looked at me straight into the eye, the way goat matata looked at his kids in the nursery texts. She retorted being tired, it was too much on my side I just got back on her face. Sooner than I knew it, I was accused of calling her names and got in a rotten smelly cell already. For what mistake done? These are government offices for you! Where they say its free services. I don't see free services in government offices. We pay more than we use in our taxes. A whole 30% off our salary. Is that really free? Its even much costly than paying for private entities. If only!

Recently, on the gate from school, a tuktuk driver with a wide smile welcoming you on board and off we took, good customer service I thought. I would even just board on anytime, anyday if at all I would find access to the same. Others would be a big piss believe me. So on our way we chit chat on this or that. Then he tells me he came across an advert on county jobs, but he is so negative on getting it, explaining really well that the jobs at the county level were not for the people in Mombasa. It got interesting. I just interrupted with my previous experience with the swahili ladies in the offices, probably that's the reason you do not see many of them in the offices.He sided with me on this, that they need white collar jobs and are very lazy, there output is minimal. For once, someone said it. So he also made me think, in Kongowea, probably the largest market, you would not find a swahili man or woman selling. A cocktail origin of highland tribes and the Mijikenda. Or also the hardworking digo ladies who even have to cross the ferry each single day. This is effort we see not from Mombasa, in the outskirts to Mombasa.

They make money out of the small, pay school fees for their kids and also build houses up country. But where are we? We got alot of talk and less action. Empowerment teams are like table shows nowadays. Or rather gossiping arenas for women and meet up points. On weekday nights, you would find men clustered along Mama Ngina drive, chewing their teeth out. Listening to old music and whistles when a cute lass passes by. This is the Mombasa for us. The rudeness of officials at offices, rudeness and gross attitude at their places of work, then wonder why there businesses don't flourish. Each tribe in Kenya would be associated with some work piece, but is there any for the Swahili? I always thought it was a stereotype being called lazy till I came across several. What a shame!

The little time I spent in Kisumu, at a place called Lwang'ni, with fresh tilapia just from the lake. The lady would come for you from the moment she sees the car parking, assist you with bags and get you comfortable then serves you to her best! I do not like fresh water fish mostly, but will definitely not miss the visit each time I go to Kisumu. I did not regret it. You would not even feel bad for your money, as much as you spend.

But as for Mombasa, our twinges for good customer service will still hurt. Maybe when it is fully taken, to its leadership, they would then realise ... but it will have been very late.