Driving in Nairobi is not a skill; it is a contact sport played on a field of potholes and impunity. To survive the chaos of the capital’s roads, one must unlearn every rule taught in driving school and embrace a primal code of "Tough, Alert, and Tactical."

The illusion of order begins at the driving school, where for a few thousand shillings, one can ostensibly learn to drive. In reality, the process is a transactional formality. You pay your fee, answer a few questions about traffic lights that most drivers ignore anyway, and walk away with a license. But holding that plastic card does not make you a driver in this city; it merely makes you a legal participant in the carnage.

The Nganya Code

The true masters of Nairobi’s asphalt are the matatu drivers, specifically the "Nganyas." These are not products of formal training but graduates of the street. They begin as touts, hanging off the sides of moving vehicles, absorbing the rhythm of the road through osmosis. When they finally take the wheel, they do not drive; they flow like water, filling every available gap, pavement, or counter-flow lane.

• Instinct Over Rules: For the Nairobi driver, a red light is a suggestion, and a one-way street is merely a challenge. Survival depends on aggressive hesitation—a paradox where you must be ready to stop but committed to go.
• The Financial Imperative: The chaos is driven by economics. Every minute spent in traffic is money lost. This "rush hour" mentality has bled into private motoring, turning every intersection into a gridlocked battle of wills.

The Unwritten Rules

To survive, you must adopt the "TAT" philosophy. Be Tough enough to hold your lane when a bus is inches from your side mirror. Be Alert enough to spot the pothole that could swallow your axle. Be Tactical enough to know when to bully and when to yield.

In the end, driving in Nairobi is a great equalizer. It strips away the veneer of civility and reveals the raw human instinct for self-preservation. When you finally park your car at home, unscathed, it is not just a commute you have completed; it is a campaign you have survived.