Things that could kill me in Nairobi

(1) Fumes from the cars (there seem to be no rules about how much black smoke can come pouring out of your vehicles)
(2) Cars generally, especially Matatus (again seem to be no rules about slowing down if a somewhat confused ginger-haired, white chap is in the middle of the road)
(3) My inability to pronounce Matatus. I keep asking for Matatas - which means trouble (as in Hakuna Matata). In other words, I'm the idiot walking around town asking where I can find trouble.

Other than this, Nairobi is actually much safer than westerners seem to think. So far I haven't been (and yes this is a massive exercise in tempting fate) mugged, pick-pocketed, attacked or even looked at funny. Apart from the person I had a work meeting with yesterday, who spent the whole meeting grabbing furtive glances at my hair. Somewhat annoying. Similar I would imagine to how a woman feels when a man keeps on pretending not to be staring at her breasts.

At the end of the day, or course, the main causes for dying in Nairobi are dirty water, diseased food and living amongst sewage. We can't ignore the fact that I continue to live in luxury out here. Thinking of death makes me write a joke in a blog, it makes other Nairobians remember how their children died of cholera.