No English

The rain had been heavy. Mt Kilimanjaro was nowhere to be seen under the grey clouds and morning mist. The battered minibus was filling up and I found myself sitting next to a smiling woman.

'Habari asabuhi,' I said. 'Good morning, how are you?'.

'Mzuri,' she replied - 'I'm fine' and she smiled again.  She felt firm against me, strong, earthy, warm.

'Where are you going?' I asked.

'No English,' she replied, and the driver grated the gears and bus moved off, the bus-boy sliding the door shut as he arched his body into the remaining space.

The bus roared up the track, wet puddles swishing beneath, the maize in the fields drooping and dripping. I jostled against the woman as the bus lurched over the uneven track, steering its best around the troughs and hollows of the dirt road. Soon it was climbing upwards and soon the wheels were spinning in a morass of mud, the vehicle slithering and slipping like a drunken man.

She moved so that her back wedged more firmly against the metal frame and the rattling window. My arm reached foward to hold the back of the seat in front. Her full breast pressed against it. She felt strong and firm, as though filled with mother's milk. She smiled again, content with our intimate secret, letting the lurching and bumping of the bus enhance our physical contact. I moved my hand down onto her leg to steady myself. It too was strong and hard. Her body cushioned the bumps and I sensed she was content to move her bosom against my arm and shoulder.

The bus staggered onto a drier section of the road and accelerated through the plantations of bananas trees, like umbrellas arching over the dripping coffee bushes beneath. It stopped and the metal door slid open with a raunching sound. My guide in the row in front was extracting himself and beckoning to me to follow him off the bus.

I smiled again to my cushion lady and told her I hoped she had enjoyed the ride.

'No English,' she replied again.

But we had not needed words. The collision of our bodies and our smiles had been sufficient.

I stepped onto the damp road and adjusted my pants. The door slammed shut and the bus moved away. She was watching me and smiling still. We had shared some pleasure along the way. It was enough for now.