Thump! The motorbike and its two riders bounce off the side of our minivan taxi like a cue ball caroming off the side cushion in a game of billiards. Krisztina, our driver Cholo, and I were headed to the Zanzibar airport after a wonderfully relaxing getaway weekend full of great food, an abundance of beach time, and two beautiful sunsets.

It’s entirely unclear to me who was at fault for the accident. I watched it all transpire from the middle row, left seat of our vehicle. We were on a two-lane road, and we were merging into the oncoming traffic lane to pass both the aforementioned motorbike and another car that appeared to be stalled in the left shoulder. We were probably traveling around 30 mph (50 kph), constrained to this speed, not due to traffic nor curves in the road, but to avoid various cars, motorbikes, cyclists, pedestrians, speed bumps, and hazardous potholes in the road.

As we made the passing maneuver, the motorbike began its attempt to pass the stalled vehicle on the left. I didn’t bat an eye as the motorbike came increasingly closer to our minivan—narrow margins are a part of life in East Africa. But then, a collision.

Despite the chaos and seemingly lack of concern for personal safety that pervades transportation here, this was the first accident I had witnessed in real-time. There’s an aggressive, take-what-you-want attitude in the streets. Almost no one will wait to let you in front of them in a line of cars. If you see an inch of space and don’t move in on it, it will be gone. You missed your chance until you find the next tiny gap you can squeeze yourself into. I find it to be both inconsiderate and refreshing at the same time.

Thankfully, neither the motorbike driver nor his passenger seemed hurt in any way by the glancing blow—I don’t even think they fell off the bike. A bit to my surprise, Cholo and the motorbike driver pull over to the side of the road to assess the damage. They share some non-confrontational words in Swahili, and, after determining that the damage is minimal, they exchange parting words, and Cholo climbs back into the driver seat, seemingly unfazed by the event. We resume our journey to the airport, where we depart for our Nairobi home a couple of hours later. The short time away from the big city was a welcome break, and we sleep soundly that night, dreaming of white sand beaches, the ocean breeze, and The Fast and the Furious.