Thuany's journey from Jomo Kenyatta International Airport to the Madaraka Express station in Syokimau was a collage of emotions, a transition from one adventure to the next. As she stepped out of the bustling airport, the air of Nairobi greeted her—a mix of diesel fumes and distant roars of safari beasts still echoing in her mind.
The taxi ride to the train station was a quiet affair. The driver, a man of few words, navigated through the city's veins with the ease of long practice. Thuany sat in the backseat, her gaze fixed on the window, watching the cityscape transform from the urban jungle of Nairobi to the more serene outskirts where Syokimau lay.
Her heart was a timer swinging between the excitement of the journey ahead and the poignant farewell to Chen. The roads were arteries of life, pulsing with the rhythm of daily commerce, and as they moved further away from Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, Thuany felt the chapter with Chen closing, each kilometer a soft turn of the page.
As the clock struck two in the afternoon, the taxi carrying Thuany pulled up to the bustling station. Timothy, the driver, glanced at Thuany through the rearview mirror and noticed her lost in thought. "We're here, Thuany," he called out gently, breaking her fanatasy. She nodded, stepping out of the car to stretch her legs.
At the trunk, Timothy was already there, assisting with her suitcase. "Thank you," she said, reaching for her wallet. But Timothy shook his head, "No need, Chen took care of it." Thuany paused, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over her. It was unexpected, a kind gesture that warmed her heart.
She waved goodbye to Timothy and turned to face the Madaraka Express station. With time to spare, she wandered, her footsteps echoing on the polished floors. The cafeteria was a cozy haven, with warm lighting and vibrant paintings of Kenyan landscapes adorning the walls.
It was packed with travelers, a testament to its popularity. Every table was occupied, with patrons enjoying an assortment of snacks—crispy samosas, sweet mandazi, and mouth-watering meat pies. The refrigerated display was lined with chilled sodas and fresh juices, providing the much-needed refreshment Thuany craved.
With no empty seats in sight, Thuany decided to explore further. As she strolled through the station, a sign caught her eye: Magical Hands Salon. The salon was a small oasis of peacefullness amidst the station's hustle. Inside, the decor was simple yet elegant, with comfortable chairs facing large mirrors that reflected the busy station life.
The salon was a hive of activity; stylists moved with precision, snipping and styling with practiced ease. The walls were adorned with photos of hairstyles, from braids to bouncy curls.
Thuany was drawn to the array of hairstyles showcased in the salon's lookbook. With her long, black ,curly hair, she chose a style that spoke to her—a sleek and elegant cornrow updo that would be both practical for travel and beautifully accentuate her features. As she settled into the stylist's chair, she felt a sense of relaxation, ready to be pampered before her journey ahead.
As Thuany settled into the salon chair, the stylist draped a cape around her shoulders, protecting her clothing from the upcoming wash. The salonist began by gently massaging Thuany's scalp with warm water, ensuring every strand of her long, black hair was saturated. She then applied a generous amount of shampoo, working it into a rich lather. The scent of the shampoo filled the air—a blend of tropical fruits and floral notes. The salonist's fingers moved expertly, cleansing away the day's dust and grime.
After thoroughly rinsing the shampoo, the salonist applied a hydrating moisturizer to Thuany's hair, starting from the ends and working up to the roots. This treatment was left on for a few minutes to deeply nourish and soften her hair, making it more pliable for the intricate cornrow updo.
Once the moisturizer was rinsed out, the salonist enveloped Thuany's hair in a clean, fluffy towelpatting it down gently to remove excess moisture. With a wide-toothed comb, she detangled Thuany's hair, preparing it for the blow-dry. The warm air from the blow dryer enveloped Thuany as the salonist worked section by section, transforming her damp hair into a smooth, dry canvas ready for styling.
With the blow-drying complete, the salonist began the meticulous process of plaiting the sleek and elegant cornrow updo. She parted Thuany's hair with precision, creating neat rows that would form the foundation of the style.
Each cornrow was plaited tightly against the scalp, showcasing the salonist's skill and attention to detail. The final look was a stunning array of braids, converging into an updo that was both stylish and secure—a perfect choice for Thuany's journey ahead.
With her hair transformed, Thuany glanced at the clock. It was time. She paid quickly and joined the throng of passengers heading to the platform. The train's arrival was imminent, the anticipation tangible in the air. Thuany's journey to Mombasa, a place of cherished memories and dreams, was about to begin. As she boarded the train, she settled into her seat, the rhythmic motion soothing her thoughts. Mombasa awaited, with its warm breezes and echoes of the past—a journey not just of distance, but of the heart.
With a gentle lurch, the Madaraka Express began its journey from Nairobi to Mombasa. Thuany, seated in the low-budget class, felt the train's steady rhythm as it rolled along the tracks. She looked around at the vibrant interior, the seats upholstered in bright patterns, and the friendly smiles of the train's employees as they passed through the aisle.
As the landscape outside shifted from the bustling cityscape to open savannahs,Thuany met Zahra and Naithy aboard the Madaraka Express, it was like the universe conspired to create an instant bond. Naithy with his infectious laughter and a knack for storytelling, had everyone in stitches. His tales of misadventures and quirky encounters kept the compartment alive, turning strangers into confidantes.
And then there was Zahra—the quiet observer with eyes that held galaxies. She sat by the window, her fingers tracing the passing landscape. When she spoke, it was in hushed tones, revealing a depth that drew Thuany in. Zahra shared snippets of her life—a lost love, a dream deferred, and a longing for the sea. Thuany listened, feeling the weight of Zahra's words settle in her chest.
As the train chugged through the Tsavo, Naithy challenged them to a game of "Word Association". The compartment buzzed with laughter as they linked words—elephant to tusk, sunset to orange, and freedom to wings. Each word unraveled a piece of their souls, connecting them in ways only games and shared secrets could.
When the food cart rolled by, Naithy insisted they try the samosas—crispy triangles filled with spiced goodness. Zahra, ever the poet, described them as "pockets of warmth." They washed it down with ginger tea, the steam rising like promises.
The train rattled on, passing acacia trees and glimpses of distant hills. Naithy pointed out a giraffe, its neck stretching toward the sky. Zahra whispered, "They're the poets of the savannah," and Thuany nodded, understanding.
Finally, as the train slowed into Miritini station, they exchanged numbers. Naithy promised to send his latest short story, and Zahra vowed to share her favorite sea shanty. Thuany hugged them both, feeling the ache of parting. The other passengers alighted, their footsteps fading on the platform.
Thuany watched as the train pulled away, its wheels kissing the rails. She felt a mix of sadness and gratitude—the kind that lingers after unexpected connections. And as the train stopped, she stepped onto the platform, ready to explore Mombasa, carrying Naithy's laughter and Zahra's stardust with her.