A RIDE ON THE MARIAMU AKA BLACK MARIA

Have you ever had a ride on the Mariamu? Well, I did once. The experience was pleasant.

I was strolling on the main road with my one-year-old baby one evening heading home from a local supermarket. The weather was pretty calm so I decided to walk slowly instead of taking a bus home. It would take me 40 minutes only. "This will be good for my muscles", I thought. It suddenly started to drizzle. Fearing that it would soon pour, I increased my pace and by Grace, the Mariamu came from behind us, and the driver, a male police officer noticed that I was carrying a baby, stopped, and the windshield on the passenger side was lowered.

It was a female police officer. They were kind enough to offer us a ride and I hurriedly hopped in with a sigh of relief. They were the only occupants and there was more than enough space for me and my baby. It was warm. They asked if our home was far away and I told them it was a few minutes away.

That is when my mind wondered where and how the name Mariamu came about. Upon making quick research on the internet, I learned that it came from the British name Black Maria. It is an informal name for a police Vehicle used for transporting prisoners. In Kenya, it's called the Mariamu.

They continued with their conversation the line of duty being the main topic. My attention was captured when the female officer said that she feared going to prison most in this world. As if it wasn't enough the male officer also said the same and added that he had been taken to the police cell twice.

1. For being drunk and unruly
2. For verbally abusing his senior corporal.

He said that he had been kept there not for long but he didn't like the experience at all.

Another instance was when the female officer was taking a report concerning some young children; I believe they were siblings. One was called Macrine and The other one was Ingrid. She lamented that Ingrid would sleep away any time she paused taking the report from her and added that maybe she had problems, suggesting that sleeping sickness could be one of them. They joked that the children had funny names and that Ingrid sounded like ingredients and they both laughed.

That is the moment I prayed they don't ask me by baby's name because one of her names is Ibtisam and most of the time I have had to spell it out to strangers for them to get the right pronunciation. Thankfully they didn't and just that moment my baby and I arrived at our destination. I thanked them and we rushed towards the gate as they went ahead on the road.