By the third morning, the bus stop no longer felt like a coincidence.
6:40 a.m.
The sky was still pale, the sun just beginning to push through the Nairobi haze. Matatus roared past like they were racing the clock, conductors hanging halfway out the doors shouting destinations.
But he was already there.
Same brown jacket.
Same black bag.
Same quiet posture facing the road.
This time when I approached, he didn’t seem surprised.
“You’re becoming part of the routine now,” he said.
I laughed.
“Maybe I’m the one waiting now.”
For a moment we stood there in silence, watching the city wake up. A boda boda sped past us. A woman selling mandazi arranged them neatly on a tray nearby.
Then I asked the question that had been sitting in my mind since the first day.
“What was his name?”
The man looked down at the pavement for a moment before answering.
“Daniel.”
He said it gently, like the name itself was something fragile.
“Daniel loved mornings,” he continued. “Said the world is honest before 7 a.m. People haven’t started pretending yet.”
I smiled at that.
“He was always in a hurry though. Young people move fast. Always chasing something.”
The man paused, watching a matatu slow down before speeding away again.
“One day he told me something strange,” he said.
“What?”
“He said, ‘Baba, one day when I’m gone, you’ll still come here.’”
I frowned slightly.
“He said that?”
The old man nodded.
“I laughed at him. I told him he talks too much.”
Another quiet moment passed between us.
“But now,” he added softly, “I think he understood something I didn’t.”
The street was getting busier. Office workers rushed past, staring at their phones, already swallowed by the rhythm of the day.
The man looked down the road again.
For a second, I almost believed he expected someone to appear.
Then he spoke again.
“You know why I really come here?”
I shook my head.
He smiled faintly.
“Because for a few minutes every morning… it still feels like he might turn that corner.”
The words hung in the air like the morning fog.
At exactly 7:00 a.m., he checked his watch again.
Just like every day.
“Time,” he said quietly.
Then he picked up his bag and started walking down the road.
But this time something was different.
Halfway down the street, he stopped.
He looked toward the corner across the road.
And for the first time since I had known him…
He smiled like he had just seen someone.