One recent Saturday morning I took my grandmother to the Nairobi terminus of the Chinese-built and financed Standard Gauge Railway (SGR), a gleaming edifice of glass and steel rising from the dust on Old Mombasa Road. Saturday morning is one of the busiest times at the station, as Nairobi residents travel down to the coast for the weekend, for business, pleasure or to see their families.

We were already late, having underestimated the traffic. This meant that I had to gently rush my 80-year-old grandmother through the robust security checks, which involved laying down one’s bags in a straight row and standing behind a yellow line, as the security guards had their dogs sniff the bags one after the other.

Luckily my grandmother got on the train in the nick of time, but only because the ticket guard let her to the front of the queue by virtue of her age and my boisterous appeals.

I walked back to the car feeling flustered, smarting from the intimidating presence of the guards, especially their dogs. It felt