Caption: A photo of shopping carts outside a store. (Getty Images)
I was locked out of a major store. I arrived at the store as the guards began to close the glass doors at the entrance; phase one of the lock-out. I had just beaten the traffic jam with a boda-boda, having paid three times the fare of a normal commuter taxi. The boda ride was through a light drizzle. And now, I was also out of breath. I had run to the store entrance like a compressed-version Kiprotich towards my Olympic gold. And if the security had let me though, I would be in and out in eight minutes, depending on the length of the queue at the tills. You see there was a sale on a product that I really wanted for myself and I knew where it was. It probably wouldn’t be there the next day because it was hot stuff. And unfortunately, worst of all, I was late. I was locked out of snobbish Heaven… Sigh!
I was late but not intentionally. After I caught my breath and regained my sight in the peripheral vision, I noticed the plaque beside the entrance. According to it, I was five minutes late. But for the information given to me, I had arrived fifty-five minutes earlier than closing time. The information that was given to me actually matched the closing time of the store next door, which was still open. I got the information from a pal. It became obvious which store’s times she had memorised. So when I saw a similar mismatched opening and closing times on the Google Maps app for a store I regularly visit, I knew I had to do something about it. This was the first time I seriously thought of taking time to answer questions.
With Internet connectivity improving every day as well as accessibility to gadgets to exploit it that is smartphones, tablets and computers, a compulsory computer literacy course being introduced in secondary schools and rural electrification, information is closer to us than it was before. Additionally, there are people looking for what could be looked at as trivial information, the nitty-gritty, those little details (public toilet with a shower? anyone knows?). Some of it is not easily available either. Some of the websites I look up for information have not been updated in ages. Perhaps it is because of the preferred use of social media and apps. However, we now have to pay a tax to access social media and with over one million youth unemployed, communicating through these channels may not be effective. And I don’t know about the next guy, but I virtually have no space for any more apps on my phone. If anybody is like me, we are looking for cheaper ways to access information. I may no longer need to call an institution to know if it has a campus in an area near me offering the courses I want to study. All I need to do is put up a question. If I want to dig into a great Ethiopian-style cuisine, all I may need to do is look up the best-rated Ethiopian restaurants in town and some reviews from other local guides that have been there. In cases where distance is a huge hindrance to getting information, the question-answer setting has taken that huge leap for us so that I do not have to travel miles to do so. The best thing about it is that there are people (like me) always waiting for opportunities to help others.
Being a local guide gives me that satisfaction, that at the end of the day, someone is actually able to put to use some of this seemingly trivial information that I may collect as I go round my errands, that the extra-nice receptionist volunteers, that the restaurant staff tips over to me. The thought that I can help you out wherever you are without you having to lift a foot, without necessarily spending that hard-earned money to get there and bounced, keeps me going at it whenever I can (and as the internet connection allows it :D). Let’s have those bottoms up forgetting that foot through the gate before closing time.