Growing up, a favourite pass time activity for most kids in the estates was cycling in the estate. Not everyone had the pleasure of owning their own bike, so we took turns riding, careful to stick within the estate though if you were a bad ass, you cycled to neighbouring estates and even the main road, risking going toe to toe with bullies who rolled in packs of threes and were ready to help themselves to your bike.

There were the speed chasers, who loved racing, and enjoyed the thrill of speeding through the estate, dodging pedestrians not to mention vehicles, the mkokoteni (hand cart) traders, your mum’s chama friends who probably snitched on you to your mum that you were out in the estate instead of doing your chores. We also had the super confident bunch, who simply relished the praise and admiration after showing off some of the stunts they could do with the bikes like doing wheelies.

Finally, we had the group that simply enjoyed riding the bikes in the estate, nothing too fancy. They were lumped in together with the newbies. I was in the last group, for obvious reasons: I was short, a little chubby and didn’t want to risk embarrassing myself or the family name.  Honestly though, a girl was simply happy with riding her bike.

I’m still short, specifically I’m 5 foot flat and I’m definitely still a little thick. This means when I lived on my own, I had a step ladder to help me reach the top shelves in the kitchen, the closet, and any other high storage area in my house. Anytime I was at my folks, I had my brothers and now that I’m married, I have my husband to get anything out of reach, though I’ll probably eventually get a step ladder.

I’m not complaining though, what with the good things come in small packages quips or is it fun size package? I’m also taller than some of my aunties and one of my uncles and no you can’t take that away from me. I love them but it’s one of the things I have going height wise because I have a feeling my kids will also be taller than me.

So, it’s no surprise when I tell you that my first cycling experience in the Netherlands did not go too well and neither did the second one. It took me a couple of tries to get the hang of it, mainly because bicycles here are not built for short people. When I first got my bike, they lowered my seat to the max and it still felt way too high.

The first time I took it out for a spin, I almost rammed into a parked car but instead braked suddenly and looked like it was my first time on my bike. I also realized to slow down, I had to back pedal. It was not what I was used to back home where the brakes are at the handlebars even though those bicycles are there. Eventually, I did get the hang of it; in fact, one early in the morning as I set off to the gym, I dozed off as started cycling and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.

To this day, I can’t explain how I dozed off. I mean even the few times I drove a car back home I was never one to text and drive. Obviously, I was still sleepy but best believe it hasn’t happened ever again. Anyway, over the past couple of months, I have come to love the thrill of cycling around Amsterdam, more so because cycling back home is an extreme sport of sorts.

Between dodging impatient personal vehicle drivers, rogue matatus overlapping or speeding, the motorbikes weaving through traffic, lack of clearly demarcated bicycle lanes, and air pollution from the exhaust fumes the thought of riding a bicycle back home is stressful enough; not to mention the ever present danger of you being accosted and mugged as you are trying to mind your business and live your best life.

I grew up riding my bike in the estate with my brothers and friends. I’ve been to Karura forest biking and I loved it. If there is one thing I can hope for is that we can develop the necessary infrastructure to make this a reality because it’s absolutely amazing.

It’s such a pleasant experience, enjoying the fresh air and scenery. Sometimes, I’ll wear one of my earphone buds and spend the next hour and a half enjoying an episode from one of my favourite podcasts. Other times, I’ll want to be in the moment and let my mind calm down and unwind. It’s also become an additional activity for my husband and I to do together, which is great for us.

I absolutely love the cycling culture in the Netherlands and most of all that I’m able to cycle here in peace. Frankly, as long as I’m on the right lane, following the traffic rules and mindful of other cyclists as well as pedestrians, I don’t have much to worry about. I still stare in awe at guys having in-depth conversations as they speed down the street cycling, groceries in their cart, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a baguette in the other.

It’s a skill level I hope to unlock in the coming months but in the meantime, caution is my friend. I probably have the grace of a baby deer learning to walk, at least with regards to cycling, so if you see a short, gorgeous, bespectacled lady, barely balancing on her toes as she waits for the light to turn green, say hi.