- When I heard that two people were looking to buy the car I refused to meet them, until I spoke to two people about it.
- Saphire clearly wanted me to sell so that we can drink the money.
- I asked Ali to get me the contacts of the people who were interested in the car.
When I bought my car — the shiny, state of the art wine red Nissan Unny — I was buying it for myself, to help me and my little lovely family move around easily and conveniently.
We just wanted to say farewell to Route 11. And, if opportunities arose, like they did in December, why not, I would make some money transporting those in need.
At no point was buying to sell it my intention. In fact, when Ali — at the time he was repairing it — asked to buy it at a fairly good price, I turned down the offer. As many of you my know, the car developed problems and has been grounded at home since early January — awaiting when I finish paying the multiple loans I have so that I can take another loan to resuscitate it.
SELL THE CAR
When I heard that two people were looking to buy the car I refused to meet them, until I spoke to two people about it.
“Why don’t you want to sell the car?” wondered Saphire. “If the price is good, take it immediately. Uchumi ni mbaya sana,” he added. Saphire clearly wanted me to sell so that we can drink the money. I spoke to Pius, an expert on cars.
“The more it continues to be grounded the more things get spoilt,” he said. He was right, as I have lost count of the parts that Branton removed from the car to go play with.
“Some of my rich friends are car dealers. They buy cars cheaply, repair them, and then sell for a profit. It’s good business,” Saphire revealed. On hearing this, I felt convinced that perhaps it would be a good idea to sell the car and make some quick money. After all, even maintaining the car was already a difficult thing.
“Also remember that there are people who just love old cars like that one of yours. They will pay anything just to own the car. They call them vintage cars,” said Pius.
I asked Ali to get me the contacts of the people who were interested in the car. A day later, he gave me contacts of one of them.
“Ulichelewa bro, pesa niliweka kwa gari ingine,” he said when I called him. His name was Kimani. “Lakini nikipata pesa nitakupigia.” I told him that I would be waiting for his call. He then asked me how much I wanted for the car.
I was tongue-tied for I did not expect such a question. I asked for some time to think about it. Truth be told, I did not know. I asked Ali how much I should sell the car for.
“Kama gari inatembea unaweza piga bei upate pesa mzuri,” he said. “Lakini hio yako sasa ni mkebe.” He had a point, but I had no money to repair the car to sell it at a better price. In the meantime, Kimani kept calling me, asking me if I had made a decision.
We both agreed that he needs to come see the car first. He picked me from school last Monday. He was driving an old, rickety, small lorry written Canter. With him were two boys. All of them were wearing, dirty aprons that had seen better days.