k-1

K-1

You are a man. You are 32, you turn 33 this September. You are in your fourth job since you left campus. Or you have been promoted to a cadre in your organization where you enjoy better perks. You are not married. But you do have child-a son-with your long-term girlfriend, who affectionately calls you, ‘my baby dad’. Still things might work out. You might marry her. Your son is a chip off the old block-copy pasted.

You are fairly tall, fairly handsome (some women when they learn the fatness of your wallet often claim you are the hottest man alive), and you do have an active life (means you often bed colleagues and that single neighbor who lives down the block). You occasionally go to the gym, that means you have some admirable biceps and puffed up chest.

Two Weeks Ago

Two weeks ago, your 23-year old, petty, spoilt, entitled niece, Julie, who studies Computer Science at Catholic University asked you to have her birthday party at your rented house  in Lang’ata. You never say NO to Julie. Besides, her mother is your favourite sister and she is technically under your tutelage. Being single you agreed and she picked the keys from you while you were at Rafikiz, having your car washed. And you paid for their taxi fare to your housew. You went on drinking with your boys, having given her all the money she wanted and asked to use the food in the fridge that is on the verge of going stale.

At 10.12 pm, you pulled at your packing with your boy Ndembiso. Ndembiso is Kenyan, but you don’t know where he got his South Africannish name. He is a short character of dubious background and you know that he has ever served time in jail. He has a stud on his left ear and he dons dreadlocks, or are they braids? He is not exactly handsome, but he has a way with women. He exudes a certain infectious charm that often drops panties of 35-years olds sexually frustrated corporate women. They actually let him drive their cars and at least two of them pay his rent in exchange for his legendary bedroom skills. Or so he says. It is hard to tell the truth since women never give their side of the story.  But he is your friend because he knows where every single good deal is in this town. He is the type of a guy you see in some Kenyan music videos from time to time.

His education background is dubious. On selective topics especially those that rely on memory such as football and world affairs, he is fairly up to date, but he seems never to update himself and often can be goofy. You can’t trust him around your more learned, snobbish friends.  He has the mettle to partake in conversation, granted it does not get too cerebral.  You have never met any of his former school mates in a club. Or in the street. He is one of those people who just drop from the sky and start living in your neighbourhood. You have never had him mention where his shags is, though he often accompanies you to your shags in Ongata Rongai, Naks from time to time. He doesn’t work, but he lives large. He has no known ambition. You know he has a sister, his only living relative you know. She stays in Buru Buru and has pierced her whole body, and you have never met her sober.

But Ndembiso is a man’s man. He is telling you his latest escapades that involves him banging mum and daughter as you pull up at your house. Your house is where he also impresses younger women and you don’t mind, though you are a little jealousy that despite your money, he still gets the best.  You don’t mind, since he picks the house clean and no lingering sexual fumes that drives you nuts when you lend your house to other men.

In the sitting room, there are at least 7 or 8 girls, 5 of which are absolutely beautiful and sexy. There are three young college boys, probably their classmates and going by their conduct, friendzoned. One is fiddling with the speakers and acting as a self-appointed DJ. You wonder why the boy is not fiddling with a female in parking or behind the house. Useless boy. Ever noticed that it is people who listen to stupid genres of music like neo-soul or rock who always want to force people in parties to listen to the music in their phones via Bluetooth. There is another boy, trying to help another girl with something on her phone. Other girls are in the pre-party bored mood, because the food or alcohol is taking longer than necessary to arrive. Or they are wondering where they will sleep or how they will get home, especially the one who comes from Emba. One other girl is eating meatballs, wearing a face that tells you it is her first meal of the day.

As you chuck your shoes, Ndembiso has already slid out of his rubbers and said a loud ‘hi’ that gets a slightly exaggerated ‘HI!’ back, from the ladies. The three boys, murmur. Ndembiso, walks straight to Ms Hungry and grabs a meatball, with a deceptive consciousness of someone who knows that their hands are dirty. He throws it in his mouth and says unconsciously,

“Eish, na hizi meatballs ni tamu?” and without expecting any response, he shouts,

“Where is the birthday girl?”

Julie shouts from the kitchen,

“Heeeeere…”

“How old are you now,” Ndembiso says, almost imitating the birthday song…

“18…”

Every one laughs, with some forced exaggeration…And as if on clue, at least four girls shout Bryan Adam’s boring “18-TILL-I-DIE”…And with that Ndembiso has electrified the room. Something these teenage college boys failed to do.

In the meantime, you step into the kitchen where you find Julie and another friend who is seated on the slab, besides the kitchen sink playing some music from her smart phone. You notice it is Wiz Khalifah and Charlie Puth’s tribute to Paul Walker.

By Lord! Julie’s friend is absolutely beautiful. She has long natural hair, darkskin and a long neck that swings her head, quite sexily. She has the calm demeanour of a woman who is sure that she will get married to the man she wants. She speaks less in your presence.

With affected concern you ask you ask your niece if there is anything missing. She tells you that the alcohol will not be enough…

“Oh, lemme call the Wines & Spirits place to deliver…” You take the phone, dial the Wines and Spirit woman, but the woman over there tells you that they are not making deliveries tonight and they are closing anytime. You tell her to wait. You ask Julie and her friend to accompany you. As you come to the sitting room, you ask everyone what they will have…the ladies shout: Hennessey, Famous Grouse and the boys who don’t know better ask for Jameson.

So off you go. Ndembiso who is getting on fine with the ladies opts to stay. At the packing, you are using your friend Joseck’s BMW as he is out of town with your more fuel conscious Toyota. They step in, and Julie being entitled takes the front the seat. The friend goes to the back left. You swing out of your compound into the slightly potholed road, with annoying bumps. You only have one job. To stop Julie from asking you about your son, baby mother or any of your women she knows. So you must steer the conversation. You ask random, rapid fire questions that will provoke a conversation. Along the way, her beautiful friend tells her,

“Jaymo ndio huyu anapiga…”

“Ghrrrrr, achana  na ya yeye…” Julie replies, then they both laugh a conspiratorial laughter. You estimate that Jaymo is her boyfriend or an annoying boy trying his luck. Too bad. You get to the Wines and Spirit joint and you take the liquor. In total it costs Sh 11, 350. Plus your White Cap beer cans and soft drinks, it comes to Sh 12,300. Off you go back to the car. You only have one job, make Julie don’t ask you a silly question in the presence of her friends because Julie has the most careless mouth in Nairobi.

Back in the hood, Julie gets off first with the alcohol, but there is an oncoming car from the next gate and you have to reverse back to give way before the friend disembarks. So you stay with her friend in the car, who is chewing her gum, quite loudly. Once you in your compound, you turn around quickly in time to open the door for her, introducing her to the chivalry.

“Ah, you quite taller than I thought,” you tell her as she hesitates to move…”What is your name?” you ask.

“Peggy,” she replies.

“I’m David,” you tell her,”Julie is my favourite niece, though a bit spoilt,” you tell her.

“Very,” she says, you both laugh conspiratorially. “She tells us a lot of stuff about you…” she reports as you start to walk up to the house…

“Good or bad stuff?”

“Are you a bad person?” she asks, rather rhetorically, “Are you?”

You let her walk ahead. She has one of those bodies that many men hanker after all their lives. The hips are placed in the right place, her ass firm, taut and sure. One of those asses you want to be seen shopping with in Nakumatt Mega on a weekend. She is in a hoodie so you have not seen her boobie game.

So you enter the house and everyone looks at you suspiciously. It is like in the short time you have been out, you have kissed each and done one stupid thing. In the house, Ndembiso is entertaining the ladies.  Presently, they are busy taking selfies and updating their Instagram at a speed of ten photos a minute. The girls are now animated. When Julie places all the alcohol in the table, the girls turn their cameras and start taking pictures, flashes snapping quickly you would think it is a Hollywood celebrity being followed by paparazzi down a corner in Hollywood.

You and Ndembiso take a few shots and you have to leave and let the college kids enjoy. Ndembiso asks all the girls to give him their numbers which they all oblige and you are sure that he is going to shag at least four of them, before they realise and their friendship will be permanently impaired.  Time will tell. Ndembiso is a sex addict. You have always doubted that he has ever shagged Julie, since you have ever found his hand in a funny place in the kitchen and you were forced to look the other way, you have brought it up. Innocent is not the first word that comes to mind when you see Julie. She is quite hot-blooded.

Amidst that, you take Peggy’s number. And you don’t make any commitment of calling her sooner other than ask if they will join you later in the club. Her answer is noncommittal. You leave and go away with Ndembiso, who now tells you how hot the ladies were. Who had the best boobies, who had legs carved off gold. And some did smell nice.  He points out…

“Na hako kengine, si umeangukia man!”

You laugh and off you go to Carnivore, where Ndembiso is to meet one of his cougars, who is lately mad that he has not shown up to rock her in bed. Tonight, Ndembiso is ready to attend to her.

A WEDNESDAY-TWO WEEKS LATER

You are driving down from your Upper Hill and you have just joined the Haile Sellasie Avenue when you see your phone beeping…It is a 072676 number. Quite familiar. And you cannot barely recognize the voice on the other end…

“It is Peggy. Peggy! Peggy!-now desperately, Julie’s friends we were at your place and went to pick al…?”

“Urgh! You say with feigned disgust!!! “How come I didn’t save your number? I actually asked Julie why you have not come to the house since last time…” You lie.

“Really?” she says. Eager that you have at least thought about her.

“Yeah, come on. I am driving, can we have a drink kesho?”

Affirmative.

DATE DAY

You agree that it be a town a date and you ask her that you meet at Java, Koinange Street. She arrives nearly 20 minutes late, since she was caught in traffic. You are seated facing the entry when she walks in and you are totally confused. She is in fitting black pants, and fitting white top. What this does is that all her curves in the body come out authoritative. Accompanied by her walking gaiety, you have never seen a sexier lady. Good heavens, 22-24 year old women are the most beautiful, adorable and sexually inviting women, you think to yourself. You can swear by Dedan Kimathi’s grave.

You hug her, and it lingers on for a few more seconds. She has dropped her first hint. You sit down and you are handed the menu…She studies it not sure what to have. She then says she skipped on lunch.  You advise to try their milk-shake and carrot cake…She obliges…Then you get talking. First of all, she is theatrically furious, you have never called her…

“The whole of last week I was out of the country (true), I only came this Monday. And the first thing I did was to ask Julie about you,” you tell her. She cannot ask Julie if it is true, since she is secretly meeting you given Julie has not been cooperative and setting up another meeting, she had to set it up herself. So you get talking.

In the course of the conversation, she is dropping hints at the rate of three every minute. A sexy smile here, pulling back the hair there, exaggerating her laughter to your lame jokes, talking sexy and sexily. She is all but yours. You do not even have to try too hard. You conclude the evening three hours late. She stays in Rongai and you offer to drop her.

You take her to her apartment that is located a few meters down the road, fenced by a live fence and poorly lit. You are not sure of your safety but you must act like a man. She starts to invite you into her house, but frankly you have a busy day the following day…You get to her gate, and you come out together.

She offers you a hug. And you take advantage of the darkness to taste if you were not misreading her hints. So your left hand (for your are left handed) fondles her ass and out of the blues you exchange a considerably long kiss, that seems to linger on as no one seems to want to let go… You leave it right there but comment sheepishly, “that felt right, right?”

“I know,” she whispers in the bedroom voice. You get back to the car and speed off.

FRIDAY

You call her at around 10 a.m. She eagerly picks your call. Her voice is expectant. You ask her how she slept (well), how is her morning (about to attend a boring lecture), how is her afternoon (busy meeting my aunt in town…). Then you tell her you can have a few and then you will drop her.

That is how you end up at K-1. Because men your age simply cannot drink in town. Not since you bumped into your niece giving a middle-aged man a lap-dance.

You go to K-1 and to your annoyance, they are having a Karaoke on a Friday. Deep within you know Karaokes are places for washed up female actresses and ‘celebrities’ who have run out of favour with the media and their bosses where they try unsuccessfully to resurrect their careers.  You also know that there is a place in hell for those who sing who in Karaokes…boring everyone.

So, you decide to endure adults making asses of themselves and you buy her wine. Red. She is dressed in a short skirt and you have examined her soft and silky legs and decided she is going to be your girlfriend for the next few months. She is genuinely happy to be around you and you are genuinely happy to be with her. She can make a good trophy girlfriend and she fits well in that front seat of the borrowed BMW.

Later you switch to another club but she is freezing, you need to go home. She needs some warmth.

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