His entrepreneurial journey began immediately after the ejection. With no work and a stomach to fill, he built his first handcart from scrap metal and hit the road. Since then, the 32-year-old has worked without taking a break. ‘Sijawahi kwenda leave (I have never taken leave)," he says.
With his first cart, he relocated from Nairobi’s Embakasi Estate to Kayole where there was great demand for transport services. "There was a lot of construction work in progress and people needed carts to ferry water and building materials," he explains.
Oyori was contracted to ferry water, cement and iron bars. In a day, he could transport over 60 bags of cement, iron bars, timber and 70 100-litre cans of water to the site. He saw the construction of a five story residential flat from the foundation to the rooftop.
Then he undertook a similar assignment at another construction site. The work took about a year, and when it was over, he had saved a tidy sum of money.
A friend advised him to venture into the matatu business. He bought his first minibus for slightly over Sh150,000.
A servant
Even as the vehicle plied the Kayole route, he did not abandon his handcart business.
"I knew I had to work even harder because with a vehicle, you never know. It can break down any time,’ he says.
With that kind of uncertainty in the matatu industry, the father of two has stuck to his trade despite adding more vehicles to his stable, which go under the name Bogesango Enterprises.
He says the handcarts act as insurance to his matatus. "When one of my vehicles breaks down, I use money from the carts to repair it," explains the teetotaller.
He has expanded his transport business that currently offers employment to about 10 people.
His day begins at 4am and ends at 10pm. He starts by ferrying groceries for traders who venture early from Gikomba Market and continues throughout the day. He has such a tight schedule that when I managed to get an interview with him, he had to interrupt thrice to answer his client’s calls.
Oyori serves his clients with such zeal and humility that he has won their hearts. "Wapi Andrew?" (Where is Andrew?)," a woman in need of his services disappointedly asks when she misses him at his hangout.
Besides his clients and the uncertainty in the matatu industry, Oyori says that he was not born a "boss", another reason he gives for not quitting his trade.
"I would not wish to sit and order people around," he explains. "I prefer receiving orders. It makes me feel I am a servant," he says.
But some people pester him that he is too ‘big’ to push a cart, a lowly job. Some chide him, but Oyori says he is in it to stay.
"Pushing a cart is not a mean job," he explains. "It pays as much as working in an office."
However, like any other occupation, it is not free of risks. "You must eat well since the job demands a lot of energy," he advises.
Dishonest clients
Besides that, at times he incurs heavy losses when a person hires a cart only to disappear with it. He says with about Sh2,000, one can own a cart, but to win clients’ confidence, one needs three things: honesty, honesty and honesty.
"Why would you run away with their luggage? he poses in reference to some cart pushers who make away with customers’ luggage if not accompanied.
In each stride he has made, Oyori sees the hand of God. He says if presented with a cart and a vehicle, he would go for the former a thousand times.
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