It was not the Old Man’s rage that he feared, nor the prospect of police cell and the gunbutts and kicks of his fellow corporals. He did not fear any of that. It was that the Old Man had faded. That was why he had left. There was nothing there anymore. Everybody was leaving, and lying about it.
He grew stronger and the weight started coming off. And though he did not time himself, or know how many kilometres he covered, how much weight he lost, he knew that he ran a little further everyday, he did not sweat as much, the aches and pains were more bearable and his body felt lighter.
Maina is a violent robber whose disgust for blood and craving to be loved forces him to quit for a better career. But when Maina lands the job of a matatu driver, he realizes that he has slipped into the underworld bedeviled by corrupt traffic police, city council askaris, and cartels.