In those days, life was simpler. People were genuine. Old childhood friends kept it real. Fun was always had. This was Nairobi's Buruburu back in the day, as Moses Nderitu, the managing director of BasiGo sees it. It is in Buruburu that he started flirting with bikes.
And that’s how the 51-year-old started on his peregrination into the wilderness of the biking world. He has ridden everywhere: to Cape Town and back, across Europe, and next on his hitlist, Dakar.
That’s a difficult question. I am just me. I am the total of my experiences, good, bad, and ugly. Everything you do in life shapes who you are—where you grew up, the schools you went to, the things you enjoy doing et al. In the movie Tarzan, he is raised in the bush, so he is technically a product of growing up there. I am an all-around Nairobian man with sketchy roots somewhere in the mountains, huko Nyeri. But if you ask me, I am a Buru guy. I am a city boy, I have learned my mother tongue in the city.
What does this city boy do for fun?
I like watching live bands, especially jazz bands, but I don’t mind the rhumba ones. Every Thursday, I would go to Cheche and watch Edward Parseen & Different Faces Band. Where possible, I enjoy a game of football, and hanging out with friends, because there is a promise of nice soul music afterwards.
Watching games is about that banter and teasing Arsenal fans. It’s strange but a lot of my friends support Arsenal, and I am the only Newcastle United fan in Kenya haha! But I am also a biker as I enjoy getting on the bike and going off somewhere preferably long-distance riding.
We shall be doing an All-Africa ride. I bought a bike in Cape Town and rode it home, and the day I got home, I said my next destination was Dakar. But I also love a hike. It’s my me time.
How did you pick up biking?
When I was a child in Buru, there was a guy called Mike who had a scrambler. As children, the best thing you could do for us is a “Wheelie” [raising the front wheel of the bike]. We would get the guy who sold ice cream to give us his three-wheeler, and then we moved to the guys who used to read water metres and came with their bikes.
In 2006, I went to a conference in Germany, and I was sitting in a café, and people just kept riding in with nice bikes. It looked like a movie, men. I was converted, and in 2008 I bought a scooter. Now we are here. It just seemed so cool. In 2013, we did a Jubilee Ride, and rode to Cape Town and back...
How long was that?
About 40 days or less.
You just had 40 days to spare?
You have to make time for what you value. The problem with the rat race we are living in is that we are always planning for tomorrow. You never get to do it. So, you plan it. Now I am deliberate in not taking leave so I can have that gap to find that time and do it because that is my therapy.
What are you thinking about when riding?
Everything and nothing. There are days you are solving problems, and there are days you are just thinking about how God created stones.
What’s the most memorable or unique experience you’ve had on your bike so far?
In 2013, when we got to Lake Malawi, which is the most beautiful lake ever, and since then I have been back three or four times. I am a guy who loves sunrises and sunsets, and I park my bike to catch the sunset.
In 2017, I got a chance to ride through Europe, and it was beautiful going through rural towns, seeing little castles. We also had a few rides where things went haywire. In 2012, we went to watch Kenya vs Uganda, the Migingo Derby, and I rode back home and broke my leg in three places. It’s ridiculous because I fell outside my house after riding from Kampala.
Was it because of fatigue?
No. The bike was off. I just don’t know. In Africa, we say the pot always breaks closer to home. Maybe I just put my guard down. I have also broken my hand in Mombasa. But those are hazing rituals, battle scars [chuckles].
What’s the most boring part about riding?
There are days you are riding and it rains and rains and rains, and you are soaking wet and you are in the middle of nowhere. I once got rained on for two hours in Tanzania, and there was nowhere to stop. One of the things I dislike is getting rushed because you are trying to get somewhere before nightfall; that’s how you make mistakes.
Group dynamics can also be quite challenging because you can only ride as fast as the slowest rider, which can be annoying. When you are tired, leave the bike.
Has any of your children picked up biking from you?
They want to. The little ones have the little bikes, and I have a fearless son. My daughter can ride. Recently, my 20-year-old son wanted to combine driving and riding. I want them to find it themselves.
Do you have a special ritual that you do with them?
We just enjoy each other’s company. I am quite an impulsive person. We go with the flow, but we are very protective about our time.
What’s your fatherhood style?
Haha! Benevolent dictator. I try to be approachable, but I am not your friend, I am your father. There have to be certain boundaries, and I am not afraid to make it clear when they are being crossed. I am the lastborn of four boys, so by the time my parents raised me, they had done everything with the others and failed, so they just let me do my thing.
I try to do the same with my children but within certain boundaries. I am not a “Don’t do” kind of parent; I let them experience things, but try and curate it.
How are you raising your children differently from how you were raised?
These guys have everything, we had nothing [chuckles]. I got my first bike as a grownup, they have gadgets, go to good schools, they have birthday parties. They are living their best lives haha! We sold newspapers bana haha. They have allowances! We were raised out of fear; they have a lot of freedom and opportunities to express themselves.
What do you miss most about your childhood?
Genuine friendships. Growing up in Buru, people were your friends, not because they wanted anything from you, but because they were just your friends. Lately, I have been going to a certain joint in Buru, and they have no qualms about who you are or what title you hold. They are not competing with you, mine is bigger than yours. Everybody’s house was your house, there were no boundaries, and any parent could discipline you. I miss that genuineness.
How are you remaining a genuine friend?
don’t have many friends, but I have many acquaintances, and I know thousands of people. I am 100 percent in for my friends, and I value quality time rather than quantity. The time we spend with people whom I believe are my friends is quality time.
Tell me a story from your childhood that is a good representation of your life now.
[long pause]. I am one of those Gen Xs who tell people how we took public transport to school, and Bus #22 left Harambee and got to St Mark’s, and it got there on time, and I walked from St Mark’s to Westlands Primary, and I was never late. I saw friends of mine get into the matatu industry as drivers, owners, et al, and how did I think my childhood influence of being in public transport is exactly what I am doing now as a 51-year-old adult? The system worked, and now we are trying to bring that sanity with electric buses. It’s a mirror of my childhood.
What’s your idea of happiness now?
I am not philosophical. I enjoy a damn good laugh. I will not spare an opportunity to just have a good laugh, because happiness is a total of many things, and for me, it is finding true joy in the things you are doing now. Sometimes that’s just being at home eating Chevra and watching Netflix [chuckles].
If you aren’t at home eating Chevra or on your bike, where else are you likely to be?
Probably with the children and significant other. Where else would I be? Hm. Maybe I am missing out on something. I just realised I don’t have many places I could be.
What is something I would be surprised to learn about you?
As much as I live a public life, I am a very private person, and I am also quite shy. So, before I have to do something like this, I literally psyche myself up. The number of butterflies I harbour just to do public things manifests itself in a running tummy…so before I have a big event, I really struggle.
For what it’s worth, you are doing well. What is the soundtrack of your life now?
Two songs. Charlie Wilson, “I’m Blessed.” And from fighting temptations with Beyoncé, that song does something for me. I am not religious, but I am spiritual. “I ain’t no superstar, the spotlight ain’t shining on me, I may not be good enough, but I am doing my best.” I love that line.
When you think of the weekend, what food comes to mind?
I am not a foodie, but I enjoy a good restaurant. There are days when my sophisticated side wants sushi, and there are days when I just want to go eat ka-fry. I enjoy a good Sunday brunch, especially when I am biking.
Who do you know that I should know?
I am three phone calls away from anybody in the world. Hm. That’s an interesting question. [long pause]. If there is somebody you want to know, I will get you to them. That I have no fear. If I don’t know them, I will know someone who can get me to them.
What’s the one thing you have finally come to terms with?
[long pause] We are all on a journey, and you just have to make the best of it. I hate this business of “God knew you before you were born…” It makes me feel like a toy soldier. So if my life is predetermined, what am I doing here? I have come to terms with the fact that God gives you the opportunity what you do with it is really up to you.
Is there a question people hardly ask you, but you really wish they would?
[long pause] Nobody ever asks me what I am struggling with. Everybody sees the external symbols of success, but not what’s on the other side. Are you what this is?
Are you?
I struggle. But we have learned to live with it, and we have learned that you do not show your vulnerabilities to everybody, because it may be misused. Sometimes, even the people closest to you don’t realise, and I think it is a male thing that you could be surrounded by people who you are trying to do everything for, but they never realise how much you struggle to make it possible to live the life you are living and to give them the life they are living.
People take that for granted, and that’s why we are seeing guys just dropping off, and you wonder why he didn’t say something. People ask, “How are you?” as a greeting, but nobody ever asks, How are you, really?
How are you really?
I am coming from a tough place, and there have been a lot of really hard decisions in the last few years, days I have felt I have no energy to continue, but I can see the peak, even though I am not there yet.
