Laban as an uncanny knack for languages. A true linguist, he’s always surprised us with his ability to converse effortlessly with customers of any ethnic origin in their native tongue. He is an object of both admiration and envy amongst fellow cab drivers.However, Laban is also very compassionate and a firm believer in the dream of a united Kenya.

In 2008, it was a bad time for everybody. Our industry got hit very hard. Transportation was paralysed by various “no go” zones. While the majority of us grounded our taxis and spent time watching our TV screens in shock and horror, Laban took the initiative of assisting victims in securing safe passage out of hot spots.

Using language as a tool of identity and persuasion, Laban was able to save the lives of at least seven different families. The number may not be too large in the grand scheme of things, but to those families, Laban shall always remain a hero. A local television station recently ran a three-part documentary honouring Laban’s efforts, but being the humble person that he is, he declined to have his identity revealed. They had to get a local actor to play the role of Laban.

I’ll also speak about Jamal, my mentor, simply because he gave me a second chance in life. In my earlier years, I had a bright future ahead of me, or so my parents, teachers and friends thought. I was doing quite well in college with top grades and was always actively involved in sports and club activities. This made me very popular with my peers, especially the ladies. Unfortunately, this started to go to my head, and I got involved in several meaningless flings.

To make matters worse, alcohol soon became my best friend. It seemed that I took to philandering and drinking with the very same zeal and gusto that made me excel in academics, sports and social activities. By the final year of college, I had squandered my fees and was holed up in an older lady’s apartment. I had also stopped attending class. I was disqualified as a student for failing to meet the required minimum number of hours to sit for examinations, disowned by my guardian whose fees I had misused, and soon kicked out of the apartment when my “cougar” found a new, younger gentleman to prey upon.

My life started spiralling out of control until a taxi driver by the name of Jamal, who used to ferry me to and from the lady’s apartment, took me under his wing and started showing me the ropes. Were it not for him, I’m not sure where I would have ended up in life. What is more amazing and inspiring to me is that I know at least four other taxi drivers who were in situations similar or much worse than mine; they too received mentorship from Jamal and are now building themselves up as taxi drivers.

Jamal recently died in a botched car jacking. We pray that he may rest in peace. There is currently an initiative amongst a number of Jamal’s protégés to form a foundation that will provide a second chance for those who need to start a career as a cab driver. I believe this is a fitting way to remember Jamal.

Overall, I would like to finally honour those unnamed taxi drivers who, despite being open targets for harassment, theft, exploitation and ridicule, still manage to wake up every day and dedicate themselves to providing service to all Kenyans. We do have a number of unscrupulous operators amongst us, but by and large, the majority take pride in their work and service. It is only fair that I honour them too.