I remember the day I met him in Juja City Mall like the day I lost my virginity. Only the part that it was totally beyond anything that could possibly happen to a girl like me. I didn’t see it coming. I felt so lucky yet so thrilled. It kind of scared the eggs out of me but somehow, I got drank in my own adrenaline.
He was a good man. (The guy I lost it to.) I loved him. He was a god to me and maybe that’s why I still believe that that was the best way to lose my virginity. I had just turned 18 at the time. You can call it my birthday present I don’t mind. He treated me so well throughout the entire time we dated. I couldn’t ask for anything more except for his time and attention. I craved for it. Almost like I would die without it.
He knew that I wanted more from him. But like every cycle in a toxic relationship, he always gave me reason to stay whenever he showed up. Like he made up for the days he’d disappear. I understood that he would go to work in Nairobi. I was in my first year at Kiriri Women’s University in Thika. He was poor in communication and I was a sucker for love. Clinging on to my phone for whenever he’d call. He told me not to be calling him during work hours. So nearly every night was my chance to hear his voice. I had an idea about where he worked. In one of the biggest clubs in that concrete jungle called Nairobi.
I wasn’t born nor raised in the city. Nairobi that is. I have lived in the bossoms Kiambu all my life only circling around Murang’a and Nyeri during my high school life. Going to Kiriri was a big break at least. But I didn’t want to school in Nairobi. There’s just something about the city that’s so uncertain and exhausting to think about.
I was an introvert, added on to the fact that I was brought up by a super conservative mum. So probably she added on to my introvertedness. My dad was an alcoholic. He too was never there. He used to say it was better for him to be a rare father than to be an ever present one who comes home drunk, embarrassing his manhood yet forcing it on to his family violently under the influence of alcohol. So he only made sure to come home when he was sober. I learnt never to miss him. It’s been two years since I saw him now.
Anyway you’d be surprised how introverts are extroverted in their thinking. My curiosity about life has been bottled up ever since Kiambu knows when. I have never had a chance to explore it all and find my own answers.
Well, up until leaving home for higher learning gave me a chance to explore the underlying curiosity about love, men sex and the bottled desire to be a free spirit bathing in anything that would thrill a girl. Oh and it’s men besides my father. Men because psychology says girls who have had an absent father are likely to look for their presence in the men they end up dating. Which is a good thing and a bad thing.
A bad thing because four guys later since class eight, I came to meet the one I loved most but was just as absent as my father. When I think of it, the fact that I see a lot of my father in him is what drove me mad about him. Just like my old man, whenever he showed up, he would make up for all the days he had been away. Like the day I lost my virginity to him. I loved the fact that he had never pushed me to it. I felt like he knew he had to earn it, and to me, he did.
That was during my first year. I shot the floor of my own boat when my friends and I had gone to Nairobi. There was a class assignment to do there then we later went to have lunch in a restaurant-bar opposite Afya Center.
There was one girl in the group who knew Nairobi from roof to pavement. I must say she is very beautiful and classy. She is even more admirable because she doesn’t seem to take it to her head. Yea smart introverts observe quite a lot but do not say. I learnt that more when I asked her to show me how I would get to The Club. I didn’t know she’d do so much more than show me. She took me there. We only got to say hello and say a bit more than that whenever we were in the same assignment group. That day, we got to bond a little bit more. Sponsored even more when she got to know that she was taking me to see my man. She had heard of him. The simple chic in class who is the Cinderella of the city boy, an MKU graduate who lost Mr. MKU by a whisker in the previous year. Truth is, he wasn’t born a city boy either. Knowing his roots, maybe he was attracted by simplicity that came with a younger girl who also shared the same roots.
Long story short, when they got there after asking around for him, they were directed to where he was exactly. Quote, “Ni saa ngapi?”
They answered saying 5.30pm.
“Oh ah! Hizi ndio masaa manzi yake anaingianga shift. Endeni mumwangalie kwa club iko tu opposite kutoka hapa.”
The denial began from there. What was initially a surprise visit from bae would turn into a busted visit about who is the actual bae. I needed to see for myself. And I found him there with whoever I was told I’d find him with. He was shocked to see me but even didn’t try to explain anything. Like he chose to swallow a bullet than swallow his pride.
I was so heartbroken that I had a panic attack. It was so bad that a good Samaritan left his Tusker that had just been served to offer to drive me to hospital, along with Dee of course, my new found friend. If it wasn’t for her maybe that hospital would have been the resolution. At around 7pm, we left. Me and being loyal to men was left in that club too.
That marked the beginning of friendship with Dee. She is a year older than me by the way. You might be expecting to hear how she changed me. Nay. I think she did more of helping extract whoever was bottled up inside me. Introduced me to the realities of life she learnt, painfully too, through the experiences she had been through. I always wanted to be a free bird. Defined by nothing but self motivation and thrill. That I deserve the world.
I was constantly blown off my feet when I noticed how her neat yet unwavering attitude and composure made her like a queen amongst men. In simple terms, she knows her worth. She never asks for anything from them. In some way, she just knows how to keep calm and keep them at bay until they willingly offer her the world. When I looked at her, she never seemed like it was anything worth jumping about. She used to say, “It’s just another day as a woman who knows her worth.” Worth you say? I once asked her and she gladly introduced me to a book called The Power of Pus$y. She left for Australia when we were halfway through third year.
My girls and I couldn’t find a better way to spend Mashujaa Day. Our best plot on days like that is to go out and buy junk in a mall. Any mall our fares would take us. This time, it was Juja City Mall. We had been there once. It wasn’t going to hurt to go there again. Also because the first time we had gone to shop for lingerie and not to eat.
I was feeling sort of under the weather. One mood away from the thrill and in fact fling of my life. Yeah, flings. Linda, my bestie dragged me to my feet. I was also drugged by a self discovered fact that whenever you don’t feel spirited about something, that’s where and how good things hide.
Five girls, looking just glamorous enough not to taint our first impression. Linda talked about chicken while in the matatu and suddenly everyone craved for chicken. But we never imagined buckets of them.
At least everyone’s budget ranges between 500 and 700. I have this thing about treating myself. I don’t have to wait for a bag of money to treat myself.
Two of our girlfriends had gone to get everyone’s order when two guys showed up. They greeted us nicely. They looked quite handsome although seeing them appear from the blues made me think they were either promotion agents or we had sat at their table.
“Mind if we join you ladies?”
Awkward, I thought. The three of us looked at each other as if to solicit a vote from each of our facial expressions. Linda and I are like the apples among oranges in our girl squad. And apples are more confident than oranges so we said we didn’t mind. The other girl was still trying to assess risks but that was already two votes out of three.
They must have been given a green light because of the two empty chairs left by our friends. Like they were chair whisperers and these ones said they were reserved for them.
“Our two friends have gone to get our orders though.” Linda said.
“Crap! Sorry we didn’t mean to.”
“Yeah but we can switch to a bigger table?”
These guys had a form of telepathy.
“And by the way since we interrupted you guys, we’d like to at least be nice and sort out your orders.”
Even before we could say anything.
“And plus anything else on top of that you might want to order is also fine.”
Okay pause. Linda gave me the, ‘are these guys bluffing’ kind of look. And I responded with the, ‘there’s only one way to find out’ look.
“Sure we’d appreciate that.” I said.
One of them, the slightly taller and darker one stood up to scout for a table. Our friends were on their way back already. The other one, lighter and abit masculine took out a few thousand shilling notes and handed over to Linda who was just next to him. He didn’t even count. She was so perturbed that I had to nudge her with my elbow. I later got to know that she was given 5000 bob. Gentlemen you say?
Our friends came with the initial orders, confused to see us with guests that they just placed everything on the table and went back to follow Linda. They came back with buckets of chicken wings and drums, gigantic bottles of soda and party cups and fries. Talk of a craving come true.
They introduced themselves as Shawn and Melvin, the darker one. We did the same. Except for Linda and I who were abit more outgoing, the rest stayed reserved, only giggling and talking whenever necessary. Their girl antennas read this as unusual. That two guys would just show up like that and ask to sort everything out.
Well, they were just getting started. Towards 5pm, they said it was still abit too early to leave.
“You ladies might be wondering why we’d be so nice. There’s nothing more to it than the fact that we just wanted company. We didn’t plan or anything.”
“So what do you guys say we could find the nearest club. Instead of leaving early. We really love your company.”
They asked around and found out that there was a club upstairs. We accompanied them and yet again, they bought drinks. Sorting out the lightest drinker to the heaviest drinker, Linda. She doesn’t chase her drinks. I don’t know the connection between people who have bigger bodies and their inability to get drunk quickly.
I must say these guys were fun to be around. None of them had made a fishy move on any of us and that was even more puzzling for our three friends. That wasn’t the time to start giving them pep talks on how to enjoy things while they last.
The clock struck 8pm. Our three friends, timid as you may expect already – begged to leave. They must have stretched their personal hazard limits too much already. They were driven by facts which pointed that they only had public means to get back to Thika. And the earlier the better. Well, they were met with a better offer.
“Do you mind if we call an Uber for you?”
Of course they didn’t mind. In fact they already knew Uber was an option but the question is, who would pay?
“No don’t worry we will pay.”
Gosh the timid levels these friends of ours had. They said they’d like to call one for themselves. The guys said it was fine. Probably they thought their offer to pay was a bluff, again. Out came nine thousand shillings.
“1K is for Uber for each of you. 2K is a thank you from us for being so kind with your company.”
“Yes it was a pleasure to meet y’all.”
I looked at Linda and whispered, “Aren’t these guys nice.”
She said a prolonged ‘I know’ as we giggled.
Linda’s time and mine came towards 11pm. By this time, I had noticed or rather we had noticed that the Melvin had taken interest in me and Shawn, in Linda. These guys were undeniably brothers but of course they said they were from different mothers. They had been friends for seven years. That they had been over the brotherhood hurdles like fighting over girls and money. They were diehard brothers.
They said they’d love to hang out again sometime. Who were we to say no? Especially, who was I to say no? I wasn’t sure what to think of them but I was damn right sure I was willing to see where it all goes.
So at least we were sure an Uber would be sorted out for us by then. But we had not seen a thank you of five thousand bob each coming. They escorted us to our Uber like the gentlemen they had proven to be.
“When they call will you show up?”
“Why not Linda. Besides, I new phone would do. This piece of junk is too embarrassing. I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“And you do know guys don’t just do things for free.”
“Neither do I Linda. Neither do I.”
They picked us up at Arcade in Thika on the next Friday. Melvin was the one driving. A black Mac X. If I was to date a car I’d go out with a Mac X. Looks like the type of guys who are good looking but don’t get the classiest girls falling at their hood. However they are silently ever game, never flaunts and when they get a chance to prove their game, they leave the girls panting and tapping out yet still begging for more. The girls who they’d want but never look their way never get to know what they are missing.
And so for a guy like Mac X, I’d do a black tight dress with X strings at the back that flirts with my thighs, keeping my knees jealous, no bra but definitely a g-string. He’d love to at least have something to play with before taking it off. That’s exactly how I was dressed. Linda had on a pair or tight blue jeans, a crotchet top only and a leather jacket in hand for when the weather gets jealous. She always kills them with the cleavage.
We took the backseat like the passengers we were. It was 6pm and Burna Boy playing on the stereo system was doing so well to set the mood for the night.
As our excited bodies moved gently to the beat, our eyes spotted an even more reason to dance. The pockets of the front seats just before us were stashed with bundles of cash. Damn I had never seen so much money lying before me like that. Linda and I looked at each other and exchanged mischievous smiles. The boys seemed to know that we’d soon spot the papers.
It was all a money feat within me and I bet within Linda too until I noticed something else with a funny shape print through the pocket of the seat before me. The bundles of cash were nicely arranged in the pocket of the other seat but this one had something else extra with a bulging print. The curiosity I have never dumped came alive. I tried to feel it through the fabric.
It’s definitely not money, I told myself. It’s harder. Like metal hard-ish? Frisked through more then to hell with it. Let me just check.
Shit! It was a gun!
Continues next week…