Hawking from their car boot did not ring well with Maggy and David had to handle her with the care of a knife juggler.

David craned his neck forward to get a clear view of the road but a speeding lorry trying to overtake the matatu braked abruptly with a screeching sound from its hydraulic system.

For an endless while, quietude reigned, followed by the commotion of rushing footsteps, running, incorrigible noises, closing in on him with heightened curiosity.

David picked his phone to call his wife, “bikers….

A mean-faced burly stranger snatched the phone from David’s shaking hands, and Maggy’s voice was cut-off.