Why I quit flying, especially in Cessna-172

Wednesday March 20 2019



Peter Muthamia

Peter Muthamia 

By Peter Muthamia, kaumbutupeter@yahoo.com

Condolences to families and friends of people who perished in the ill-fated Ethiopian Airline junk. In Uswaz, we die having never boarded a Mercedes let alone a plane.

We live hoping that one day, fate would have hand us an opportunity to take a real flig Condolences to families and friends of people who perished in the ill-fated Ethiopian Airline junk. In Uswaz, we die having never boarded a Mercedes let alone a plane.Condolences to families and friends of people who perished in the ill-fated Ethiopian Airline junk. In Uswaz, we die having never boarded a Mercedes let alone a plane.ht that more often than not never happens.

Of course, some poor Uswahilinites from the shores of Lake Victoria like my one-and-only woman Bisho Ntongo, whose brothers have their wallets and bank accounts lined with real msimbazis (real Tanzanian currency) and fat bank accounts, take a once-for-all air flights, but in their coffins in luggage hull .

I was lucky recently to take a flight while conscious of it. If by any chance a poor Uswahilinite gets an opportunity to take a flight, they will take selfies of themselves at the Julius Nyerere International Airport precincts almost hugging those huge aircraft.

You can tell that a particular passenger is a villager-turned-Uswahilinite by the frequency with which he or she does selfie – at the lounge, at stairs with aircraft in the vicinity and on the seat. To add to it, we keep obsolete air tickets for eons to show the children, their children’s children.

The company that I wear my fingers writing such third-rate columns decided that it was not a bad idea if I took a flight to Zanzibar to run an errand for them.

I can swear by all the crocodiles in River Ruaha that I had never been on a plane before. As I gawped open-mouthed those huge tubes that ferry human beings and goods to various majuu destinations, I kept wondering how they do it.

I also toyed with the idea of my little spoilt daughter taking a pilot’s career. I however reasoned that firstly, I cannot afford the course and secondly, the only things she had learnt in the entire four years of secondary education include the Bunsen burner and male reproductive system.

As I brooded over that, the intercom announced that passengers taking that particular root should proceed to the flight. My heart was doing acrobatics inside my rib cage in anticipation.

I was so disappointed, however, when I realized that contrary to my expectations, we were taking a Cessna 172 – those dagaa aircraft the size of Volkswagen beetles of the yore. Usually, they have a wing span bigger than themselves.

As the engine gathered speed, I was lost in thought of what would happen if it did one fatal dive. Seated at the window, the thing started taxiing slowly, then gathered speed.

The terminal buildings were moving at blurry speed. Then in a few minutes, the junk was banking and the entire ocean was below us. I have never before prayed loud prayers but on that day, I almost peed on myself!

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