MALKIA WA MSANII II

My empty glass stood on the coaster probably glad that I had emptied all the cocktail out of it. I can imagine it felt as good as a man after taking a leak held for too long. But now that it had no more cocktail to hold since I had to be careful not to have a little too much, it found something else to do outside its profession. It stood there eavesdropping my conversation with Chris that had just become like a dog that had caught fire by its tail and now it was running all over the streets of life. 
I don’t connect quickly with guys. But maybe that cocktail can tell us what it did to me that night. Suddenly I had a light sense of humour and I was no longer irritated by his Tanzanian Swahili. You know Kenyans have a problem. Swahili is our first language but when we hear someone speak Kiswahili sanifu, it sounds like buzzing mosquitoes to our ears. We are the most ignorant Kiswahili speakers. But on the brighter side, I believe a few well bred Kenyan mjangos who speak Swahili well can beat our friends from the South of our map by far! 
After a long laughter, “No kidding Chris!” 
“Sidanganyi mimi. Mbele za macho ya Mungu wajua sidanganyi.”
“You mean she thought you wanted to shag her?” I asked amidst laughter. 
“Lynne I’m telling you she was on to me kama mbu anayefuata damu. You know sometimes men just want to feed their egos.” He said and readjusted his cap; his ideal incognito tool. 
“So you guys would approach us with so much zeal only to test whether your keys to a lady’s heart still works perfectly?” 
Rubbing his chin, “Vile unavyoiweka wafanya inasound vibaya lakini it’s not far from the truth. We may not be into you but wakati mwingine twataka kujitumbuiza tu. Ushanielewa?” 
“Aki that’s not nice,” I said. Then I realised how I sound so Kenyan when I say ‘Aki.’ Soon he’d get influenced by my Kenyanese and I would also speak a whole sentence in fluent Swahili. Something I found hard to do in high school. 
“Si kwa ubaya Lynne. Ata nyinyi wakati mwingine furaha yenyu ipo kwa kuzungusha wanaume. Niambie ni urongo!” He slightly smacks the table. My glass must have felt threatened by that. It must have taken it as a sign that it had heard enough and called out to its master. Just then, the mixologist with nice hair took it away. 
“You sure you don’t want another drink?” The mixologist asked. 
“No thank…” I began.
“Lynne, take another. I’ll pay,” Chris said. 
I could see the mixologist already craning his hands towards another glass. That’s how fast he wanted me drunk I guess. 
“No trust me. I’m good. If I go beyond that it’d catastrophic,” Maybe more catastrophic than what ladies were going through with the male strippers upstairs, I thought. 
We decided to take a walk around the back yard. Whenever we got to somewhere with a brighter lighting, he’d be hesitant to look at me directly. It should have raised my suspicion but I was so engrossed into the conversation to note such a thing. We like it when guys trigger the mouthiness in us. These are the guys who know what order and procedure mean to to lady. It’s like the foreplay towards the higher levels of friendship. Because if you make a lady get chatty, yet being chatty is a sign that a lady likes your vibe, then it only means you’re pressing the right buttons. 
What I was in for a surprise for is that the guy pressing my buttons was no ordinary mjango. 
We sat on a picnic bench opposite each other with a table in between us. The table was crummy with beer bottles, used party cups and cigarette filters. Though a shisha pot was the first thing I noticed. 
“Do you smoke shisha?” He asked. 
“Me? No! That is for kids,” I said. 
He laughed sarcastically, “So wewe ushajiona mtu mzima kabisa Lynne, eh?” 
“No I didn’t mean like that,” I giggle. 
“Ama basi you do the hard stuff?” 
“Weh! Najipenda sana. I cannot go down that road. Plus cigarettes, weed and anything harder than that is just not my thing,” There was this sternness in my voice. 
“Eiy! Si basi wewe ni toto mzuri. I admire that. I really do,” He said while nodding. 
“It’s all about limits you know.” 
I get disturbed from nowhere to take out my small mirror to check my face for anything that might make me wish I stayed with Sasha to see handsome men do what our husbands will not do for us.
“Hapo wasema ukweli. Limits is everything. Kwa mtu kama mimi bila limits ni rahisi sana kujiharibia jina. Na wajua jina kwetu ndio brand. Without limits wewe keshajiuza,” He shook his head. 
Look at that, he could also make sense out of his words. What a guy! He doesn’t sound like a dude in my age group or age set either. He is mature. Unless otherwise he cannot be as young. 
“Unamaanisha nini ukisema, “Kwetu jina ndio brand?” I asked.
“Not that there is anything special in a name…” he said. 
I chuckle, “Well, nothing special until you call your name a brand.” 
“Nadhani itakuwa…” he began. 
“Sorry my sister is calling,” I pick the call. “Yes babes?… Have you been pandwad yet?” We laugh. “No I’m just chilling at the backyard… Really? You want us to leave now?… Sawa, meet you at the exit.” I hang up. 
“Are you leaving?” Chris asked. 
“Yes. My sister says she’s tired. And I guess she has found us a ride home,” I said with disappointment written from my hairline to my chin ; of which if the Lord was less merciful than He is, it would be an undisputable butt chin. 
“Haina shida. I’m looking forward to seeing or hearing from you again.” He said. 
He walked me to the parking lot where Sasha was amongst a clique. Just then, the guy with a Tanzanian accent during the truth or dare game showed up. He was talking to Chris and froze midway when he saw me standing next to him. That’s the reaction guys get when they discover their friend was quicker in the game and swept off the target girl before they could think of a line to start a conversation. 
                                         ****
“So that day ended just like that? You went home without knowing who he was?” I asked. 
“Yes. I even didn’t take his number. Like between me and him who should take the other’s number?” Lynne said. 
“I’m for dudes taking a lady’s number.” 
“Exactly. So like two week later Sasha comes home and we start talking randomly. Then she asked me whether I noticed there were many Tanzanians in that party.
I said yes but withheld from saying that a Tanzanian guy also approached me. She said she heard her friends saying that among them there was a Tanzanian celeb. All the Tanzanians were there to accompany him. She groused about how nobody she knows even saw him. You get?” She asked. 
“Yeah.” 
“Like of all the people, a celeb? Just how come nobody really noticed him?” I was loving her facial expressions; so opaque. 
Raising my hand, “Wait. So he was like a ghost in that party?” 
“Well I don’t know how he manages to do that. I guess when you’re a celeb you have your own ways of staying low key. It wasn’t really ringing in my mind that I could have come across the guy everyone was saying. Mjango I just don’t know how.” 
After clearing my throat, “So all this time, besides the celeb stories, didn’t it ever cross your mind that well, this good looking guy whom you clicked with didn’t pursue you after the party?”
It was getting hot so she took off her jacket first. She had on a see through top. The perfect masquerade for a lady’s upper body just to keep men’s appetites on a sizeable leash. “It did but as a passing thought because you know he testified that he approached ladies not once or twice just for the hell of it. So I liked to believe I was one of those ladies. Why are you laughing?” 
“Ah! Sorry, it just hit me that sometimes I’d do that myself. Forgive me but I have to concur with him. Sio kupenda kwetu but you know a lion would sometimes want to reassure itself that it still has a roar in the hunting game.”
“Oh please Mjango. Spare me the crap!” She rolled her eyes like three times. How do ladies do that without feeling dizzy? 
“But yes, prepare for the worst so that when the best comes, you will enjoy all the mystery it comes along with.” I said. 
“That’s true.” 
“By the way, didn’t his name ring a bell?” I asked. 
“No. Because Chris is his official name. His stage name is what would ring a bell and that’s the name people know him with although not so many people as such because he more famous in TZ than Kenya.” 
“I’m still tempted to ask. How didn’t you notice? I mean, you must have seen his face, didn’t you?” 
“Now how can I put it? You see the way not many people really new Rudeboy as individual before he broke away from P Square? And if you knew him by his looks and maybe voice, it’s most likely because you follow the West African music industry very closely. 
Now look at us. Most of us in Kenya don’t really follow the Tanzanian music industry. We know their songs but may not really follow the artistes themselves. And besides, we don’t go about our lives looking forward to meet stars. Who would believe that a celeb would walk and stop just before them? Definitely not me.” 
“I don’t even think of it. But I may fantasize knowing it will only happen in heaven.”
“Silly you! So you see?” 
“Yeah,” I said. “So now the game changer.”
                                         ****
I had had a shitty day. I was just from three consecutive – three hour classes. My head was spinning like a ceiling fan on full power. That’s the kind of day you even don’t want to talk to anyone. All I wanted was to go home and sit in the shower until all my problems of the day were washed away. Add on the fact that I was having a bad hair day. God knows what other ladies thought of me. Looking all sulky and my hair looking like Medusa’s. Why ladies? You may be asking. Because ladies don’t dress and fancy up themselves to impress guys. Not in this era. We do so in hopes to get a compliment from a fellow lady. Ladies are ever envious of each other. So when she says I look good, I know that’s genuine. When a guy says I look good, chances are he’s flirting. 
I boarded the first matatu that pulled over by the stage immediately I got there. To be honest, I felt like unstrapping my bra. Gosh! I needed air everywhere im and on my humble curves and all I wanted was to loosen up. Funny how on such days that’s when things don’t seem to be moving. The matatu kept on pulling over and loading up more people. The driver must have been using his manhood to step on the accelerator because trust me, he was driving so slowly! 
Just when I was about to wish the ground would open and swallow me alive (cliché yea? But only until you feel like that’s what you need,) my phone began to vibrate. It had been on vibration mode since the first class. I was trying to take a short nap in efforts to release the pressure. 
The first sequence of vibration, I hoped it was either a text message or someone was flashing. Those ones could wait till I got home. Then came the second sequence. Dammit! It sure is a call now. But maybe the caller was still flashing so it won’t be long before whoever the hell it is hangs up. The third sequence and the fourth? Oh well, guess I just had to pick it. I lazily reached for it in my bag. New number! Really? Who do you think you are calling me with a new…
“Hello?” 
“Lynne?” A male voice said. 
“Yes. Who is this?” 
After a chuckle, “Hi. It’s Chris!” 
“Chris?… Hello?… Hello?”
 Crap! Now he hang up? 


Malkia wa Msanii continues next week!