Pudd’ng is tired of taking a matatu to school

“I wish…” Those are probably the two words going through our daughter’s mind. Why? Tenderoni tells me that each morning, while taking Pudd’ng to school, baby girl longingly eyeballs school buses picking up other children at the bus stop.

This term, we decided to arrange school transportation for our daughter to save us the daily hassles of the to-and-fro four-matatu trips we make. After making numerous enquiries, we finally got a breakthrough. Or so we thought.

The monetary cost was the same as that of public transport, but the convenience and the saving on time were attractive bonuses.

EARLY TO BE BUSSED

“I didn’t sleep last night,” our daughter excitedly confessed on the first morning of Second Term.

Throughout the night, we had to put up with her turning and tossing. We thought her sleep-deprivation was because of mosquitoes until she put us in the know. “My dream has come true… a van is coming to take me to school.”

A couple of days before, I had made school transport arrangements with a woman who runs that business.

One of her vans would transport our daughter to and from school.

From all this, I’ve learnt that part of my job as a parent goes beyond providing mere stuff. That morning, as we waited for the van to arrive, Tenderoni told me to make sure I took its number plates, name and identity card number of the driver … the basics.

In hindsight, I should have done a background check before signing on the dotted line. Found out their track record, roadworthiness record, and got references from other parents. However, like many urban parents with hurry sickness, I put convenience before common sense.

WALKING GENERATION

Whenever I pick up Pudd’ng from school, she gives me the lowdown of the day. If, for instance, they learnt a new song or memory verse, she will give me impromptu recitals, occasionally fraught with “memory failures”.

Other times, when she thinks the teacher told the pupils something strange, she checks with me to know if their teacher was bluffing...

“Dah-dee? Is it true that in your days you didn’t have school buses and you used to walk to and from school?” Pudd’ng asked the other afternoon.

DEFERRED DREAM

“The van will be here at 6am; you need to be ready by then,” I told the speeding sweetie, who was doing things as if she had knocked back some of that jet fuel stashed in her bedroom.

(In our neighbourhood, school buses pick up children as early as 5am. I feel for these poor children. Man, they will have to live with twin debts: National and sleep).

Anyway, that was the longest morning and wait. My calls to the “designated” driver went unanswered. L-o-n-g story short: He never showed up. What is a father supposed to do? Plan B: bus stop. Six-twenty-something am, I took a dejected Pudd’ng to school by matatu.

“This is the worst day of my life,” Pudd’ng moaned repeatedly, dropping the line I like using whenever she’s messed up royally: “I’m very disappointed.”

Talk about a dream deferred.

This downer elicited tough questions. What if this absolute no-show happened on the back-home trip? Or he did a disappearing act with our daughter? Or…

We are back to public transport. It is the lesser of two hassles, but Pudd’ng is anything but amused. One of her prayer items is, “God bless my father with a big car.” Our neighbour was selling a hatchback and Pudd’ng kept giving me “status updates”. Seeing the “FOR SALE” sticker removed, baby girl pouted, “Dah-dee? Is this somebody’s car now?”

“Baby, it’s always been somebody’s.”

ANGELS PROTECTING ANGELS

We got off with a life, limbs, and lessons. Other parents and pupils have not been as fortunate. Nothing happens just for the heck of it. If it is God’s way of shielding us from an awful fate, thanks. If it is His way of leading us to awesome pastures, thanks. It is all good, Lord.

Same first week, as the matatu dropped father and daughter at their stage, opposite Tenderoni’s stall, a nondescript van was stuck inside a muddy “crater”. It was spinning and careening, as the driver — (our Mr No-Show?) — tried to rev it out.

Tenderoni later told us the van was carrying schoolchildren. “They were screaming their scared heads off.”

Me? I know this much is gospel truth: Only angels protect our angels.