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Luanda Reggae Defenders - what is your long term agenda?

Luanda Reggae Defenders is a now a popular movement with roots in Vihiga and border Siaya and Kakamega counties Attention is brought to the manner and conduct the movement has gained fame and followers, mainly the Youths. The movement capitalizes on funerals. With a poor culture of putting the dead to rest, the Reggae Defenders have taken it by storm and rebranded the infamous ‘Disco Matanga’ – disco at funeral. Reggae Defenders on move. Pic: Charles Rankings: Facebook They mobilize quickly on the day the dead will be discharged from the mortuary. They have this huge old school sound system that is over buzzing to no clear reggae song - that they hire a pickup to carry - and it has a young DJ mainly standing there than mixing anything. Often, against the rules, the casket is grabbed from a hearse vehicle and tied to a motorbike. There it will be swayed and jerk breaked between other motorbikes on the narrow roads. That, is, how a fellow soldier, often a young dead, is mourned. ...
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Call me what you want. Am STRENGTH.

None in Mbale is unaware of this bodaboda rider, a man whom I have come to admire save for his lapses in thoughts - going abusive. The only man standing from the many cyclists who once operated on Mbale-Gisambai road, long then before the road was tarmacked, he is the only STRENGTH chap remaining alongside the modern motorcycles that have taken hostage of the road.

Ask him of anything and he got answers. Quick answers. Chaotic answers. Impromptu laughter. Unstoppable when he starts. He is jovial, simple with a T-shirt, a tattered trouser, a pair of slippers and an old double beam black mamba- the Renaissance bicycle.

Only for 20 bob he carries a passenger from the lows of Mbale to the heights of Mazigulu and seldom do his customers pay more. He only carries the abnormal like him and had I not had a bike we would be ziiing on his bike to whenever that he tells me something. Just something. His time is not expensive. A maximum of 100 bob a day is all he expects. Something he says makes him happy.

A little disturbing is that he seems to have less pity for himself or rather he does not seem to think before speaking. He just goes...Kenya we left on banana leaves, this woman is Kosovo, STRENGTH the show of maturity in life, They were found in wilderness, those greedy men, who think a motorbike has no rim, it has. And they are greedy, very greedy, never content. Kenya is feaces, groin fur, people are stupid. You walk in the world normal? No, take beer...and he rants, breaking to abuse a passerby woman, getting on again.

And people know him, children fear him. Once he had carried a person and thoughts crammed his mind. It is said he had left the bike steering into a ditch as he galloped for safety, laughing, the passenger groaning. It was a fall. It is nothing to him, that fall.

How he breaks by the foot, having his T-shirt fly in the air, looking back by resting by the beam, asking for a customer, this man, in his simplicity lives a life that only the sun may tell for it knows everyone's ways. In disguise, people thinking him mad, the man is living whole lot of a cheerful life in what he calls a crazy World.

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