impressions : Hustling through the bike world

You notice my name has changed from ‘Kagire’ to ‘Cargeray’, depending on your pronunciation, not because I really wish to be British or American (despite my British roots) but because of several underlying reasons which I will breakdown for you in the paragraphs to follow.

You notice my name has changed from ‘Kagire’ to ‘Cargeray’, depending on your pronunciation, not because I really wish to be British or American (despite my British roots) but because of several underlying reasons which I will breakdown for you in the paragraphs to follow.

Just buckle up if you own a car and hold on tight if you are a Moto person like me. Before we get down by the way, I can also tell you that I have a friend who calls me ‘Cage’, short for Kagire, this does not only make me feel like Nicholas Cage (some of you don’t even know this guy but let me save you from googling, he is a top Hollywood actor, he really kicks and he is quite hunky according to the ladies).

So once I metamorphose into Cargeray, Cage will come in handy as a short form of my new nomenclature (I don’t even know what this word means). What a coincidence?

Back to Cargeray, well if you can recall the title of this conversation, then you know the origins of my name. It’s not one of those names which they say for example “Magnus” has its origins from Latin which means “Great”; and this could really be very true but what happens when Latin becomes extinct?

(No pun intended Magnus(es) out there, am just trying to be creative).

Cargeray is not one of those ancient names but it’s a name I have innovated myself (I have just added it to this computer’s dictionary, I have hahad myselef). I know some of you think I have just ‘englishised’ my surname and you are not spot-on on this.

Cargeray, the name was inspired by what I go through in my daily life, trying to make ends meet but its quite unfortunate that some other people want me to meet my end instead, and these are none other than Moto riders.

Having worked for quite some good time but have failed to fulfil my dream of owning a car (the closest I have come is to hire a cab which I own for a few minutes), I have no alternative but jump on the quickest means to and from work or on night errands (no pun intended again) and that is a motorbike (Twegerane also sucks).

Am for gold when it comes to boarding bikes, I jump on them at any given opportunity as long as I have some change on me.

After a bit of haggling (usually deduct Rwf200 from the fair he charges you, even when you don’t know the place you are going and you will be good to go). I have jumped on them even on short, walkable distances but not all has been well.

I have had to endure hardships; from dirty, sweat-soaked helmets to smelly armpits of the riders themselves but worst of all, the fast and the furious-style moto riders.

Usually I jump on the big one (mind you, there are small ones pronounced Velo-Moteri, these are even more life threatening than their bigger brothers).

So the big ones, the ones which make a bolder sound of Vrooooom really do it for me.

The small ones have that irritating sound which goes like Cwirrrrrrrrrrr, it is also a total turn-off. It also vibrates like it will detonate the next second.

However, my love for the big ones has not guaranteed me a smooth ride. Most times I have had to quarrel with the rider to slow down, because, for God’s sake, this is not a race and neither will his speeding make him ranked alongside Valentino Rossi (he is the world super-bike champion).

They move so fast that you feel you will fall off the next few seconds.

Am not a coward but I have really seen lives brought to an abrupt halt by these speeding monsters. I have seen heads squashed, brains spilt on the tarmac and limbs amputated by these beasts and I don’t want to be the next.

Finally when he (they are usually hes) slows down, he waits until the next stop on the traffic lights and when the green shows, he will take off, full throttle and before I know it, I am again begging him to slow down.

By luck, I make it to wherever am going and I thank the gods that be, but what does all this have to do with me changing my name to Cargeray??

If you notice, the first 3 letters make up the word “CAR” and by this I am incorporating an automobile in my name, after all in the African tradition there is a belief that “You are your name”, meaning that the meaning of the name somehow has a role in determining your fate or destiny.

By incorporating a CAR in my name, perhaps my dreams of owning a car that will save me from the wild world of motorbikes will become a reality at a certain point in my life. Watch this space.

eddiebk2008@gmail.com

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