Boda breakdown?

Last night, on my way home from the gym, a piece of important sounding metal flew off the right side of our boda-boda and clamored to the ground.

The driver, maintaining his present speed, glanced back at the road for a brief second, and continued on his merry way.

This was just a day after I rode the boda-boda whose spark plugs exploded every 45 seconds or so the entire way across town, the unexpected blasts skyrocketing the heart rates of unassuming men, women and children walking on the side of the road, sending them running frantically for cover.