I parked my car beside the road,
No signs to tell where I shouldn’t go,
No "Parking" here, no "No Parking" there,
The street was calm, the air was fair.
It wasn’t busy, just a quiet day,
Few cars passed by in a slow parade,
Ten minutes, maybe one would appear,
I dashed to Mpesa outlet, no worries, no fear.
But when I returned, what did I see?
County officers, crouched on my wheels with glee.
Not to check or mend the tires' wear,
But Clamping them down in a silent snare.
"You're causing obstruction!" they said with heat,
Though the road was clear, not a car in the street.
Obstruction? But nothing blocked the way,
Still, a fine of three thousand they asked me to pay.
I reached for my phone, to Mpesa app I turned,
Then they stopped me, with sly eyes that burned.
"Ongea vizuri," they whispered low,
I asked, “What is it you want me to know?”
“Give us two hundred, and all will be fine,”
I slipped them the bribe, they freed what was mine.
In town, I drove away slow,
The price of truth was buried in shadow.
