By Philip Etemesi – Courtesy Ghafla
It’s July 2015 at 11pm on a Wednesday night.
I’ve just landed at JKIA from Rwanda where I had been invited to give a speech about blogging at the University of Kigali. My friend Chris was supposed to pick me up but he has just called me to inform me that his car has had an engine malfunction along the way. He is working on fixing it but it’s going to take some time. Given that I’m tired and can’t wait that long, I opt for a taxi.
As I am walking out of the terminal, a svelte, beautifully groomed white woman catches her purse on a turnstile and upends it, spilling a deluge of money. Coins rain on the marble floor and roll merrily away. People dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see what happened. I wince in sympathy and crouch to help the woman collect her money, as does one of the guards
Unfortunately, the woman doesn’t even say ’thank you’. She just walks away as soon as she has all her money back in her purse. Like it was our duty to help her. What an ungrateful bish.
As I get up and take a step back, I trip and fall. Aaah..what kind of shit is this now? . My elbows throb from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely register the pain. I am too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the new woman now standing in front of me. Her Inky black hair frames a breathtaking face. Her bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely dark eyes make her savagely gorgeous. She looks a bit older, probably in her early thirties but still more stunning than most women my age.
‘‘Sorry, are you hurt?” she asks as she puts her bags down. Her voice is cultured and smooth, with a rasp that makes my stomach flutter. The kind of voice that brings sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I think for a moment that she might be able to make me immobile just by talking long enough.
She then extends a soft hand to help back to my feet.
“I am okay” I say with a shaky inhalation as I place my hand on hers. My pulse leaps when her grip tightens. Her touch is electric, sending a shock up my arm that raises the hairs on my nape.
I feel drawn to her, as if a rope is binding my waist and she is slowly, inexorably puling it. Blinking out of my semi-daze, I study her further. She isn’t just beautiful; she is…enthralling. She has the kind of breasts that make a man want to rip her shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along a room. I look at her in her civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive female suit and think of raw, primal, sheet-clawing #######.
The first rule of pickup is that when you are extremely smitten by a woman, you should always say something. Anything. Or else you’ll feel like punching yourself after she leaves. So I ask
“Are you heading to town? Rafiki yangu alikua anipick but gari yake imeharibika kwa njia”
“Oh sure…come I’ll drop you. My driver is waiting for me. Hurry up”
I accompany her to the parking lot where a brand new Toyota Land Cruiser is waiting. We get in and speed off to town.
While on our way, she says nothing. I don’t say anything either because I can’t hit on her in front of her driver. Maybe he’s her husband’s snitch. Maybe he’s even smashing her. Who knows?
After arriving in town, I thank the lady for the ride then go on to board a taxi.
Upon arriving home, I go straight to bed, disappointed that I didn’t get her number but rather proud of my career achievements. I had never imagined I’d be giving a speech at a foreign university. Awesome.
In the morning, I am woken up by a call
“Hello, I am Miss Oduor, the lady who dropped you off in town yesternight. You dropped your wallet and passport in my car.”
Damn..i hadn’t even realized my wallet was missing because I rarely keep money in it. I just keep business cards and IDs. I prefer keeping money in secure pocket compartments
“Thank you very much Miss Oduor, you are very kind. When can I come for my valuables?”
“Unfortunately I am on my way to Kisumu. I left Nairobi at 5 in the morning. I just discovered your valuables in my car right now. Are you coming to Kisumu anytime soon? I can give it to you then. I’ve also seen on your cards that you are an influential writer by the way. I think we can do business together. I am the CEO of a housing corporation and we need a good writer to do some of our online content.”
I have no plans of going to Kisumu any time soon but the allure of getting to meet this lady again and working with her is too tempting to discard. After all, I have lots of pals there so why not? I tell her I’ll be in Kisumu the following day (Friday).
On Friday morning, I board a flight to Kisumu and arrive at around at midday.
Upon reaching town I call Miss Oduor but she says she is in a meeting and will only be able to meet me at 2. So I head to United Mall to buy some stuff in order to pass time.
At 2pm, she calls me and offers to buy me lunch in one of Kisumu’s cool restaurants. We eat fish and talk about our personal lives as well as business. It’s during this time that I get to know that she is a single mother of two daughters. Her husband divorced her. I can tell she likes me by the way she speaks to me. But I don’t want to make a move in case I jeopardize the business aspect of things. Real men adhere to a saying, And that saying is “Money over bitches.” Don’t ever put your quest for women before your quest for money.
I play cool and in the afternoon, we go to her office and sign a contract. In the evening, I hit up Kola, one of my Kisumu buddies so that we go partying.
Kola shows up in a Mitsubishi with two girls who happen to be Maseno chics. They all get out to greet me
“Huyu ni beshte yangu anaitwa Philo” he tells the girls. “Usimuone ametulia hivi. Ni writer mkali sana. Yeye huandikia Ghafla. “
Kola is always great at hyping people. He can make a third party think that you are the best human being alive
“Oh Gosh…kumbe ni wewe.”, the girls coo towards me with sudden interest. “Tunapenda story zako.” The short one adds.
I realize that I like her more than the taller skinnier one, though she’s pretty too. I just hope she isn’t Kola’s love interest.
“Thanks” I tell her, before throwing in a compliment.”And I like your hair by the way”
She blushes, but then Kola grabs her by the waist.
‘Usikatie dem yangu wewe.” He says jokingly. He is not offended. He is never offended by anything. He just understands that I am lethal.
My mild fears have now been confirmed. The short chic is Kola’s new girl. I guess I’ll have to settle for the second one. No problem. Sometimes you just have to work with what you have.
While there, the taller girl begins showing interest in me
“So hizo tales wewe huandika ni ukweli?” the tall chic begins her inquiries into my work.
“Eeeh…naeza andika ya mimi na wewe pia” I say while putting on a serious face and staring her straight into the eyes
She doesn’t see that coming. She is shocked and amused at how bold I am. As she figures out what to say, I grab a piece of meat and place it between her lips slowly.
My buddy Kola stares at me with that ‘wow’ look.
This is called the rapid invasion move. You simply conquer a girl with quick romantic gestures before her brain gets to process what’s happening.
The chic is now blushing endlessly. Under the table, I grab her arm and slowly run my fingers from her elbow to her wrist. She is now wobbly I become highly conscious of how good she smells. I breath her in and savor the scent while watching her eat.
After finishing our meals, she grabs my hand and refuses to let go. I have conquered her through three main steps.
- Assuming to not be interested in her by hitting on her friend first. This caused her to yearn for the same attention her friend had gotten.
- Throwing sexual innuendos at her out of the blue by suggesting we have sex then I write about it.
- Feeding her. Ladies like being fed
What remains is to make her drop her pants.
When we hit the clubs, it’s all fun.
At around 3am, we leave and head for Kola’s two bedroom house. Kola offers us the other bedroom to sleep in before going to his own with his girl.
I grab the tall girl’s arm and cheekily inform her that I’ll sleep on the couch and leave the bed to her.
That’s a calculated move. There is no way she’d let me get away from her. She grabs my waist and the next thing I know, her mouth is on mine, kissing me fiercely. The contact of her lips is electric, sending heat pouring through me, We rush into the bedroom and close the door,
She runs her hands down my chest through my t-shirt, feeling the unforgiving hardness of my muscles. Her fingers trace the ridges of my abdomen, her mind possibly forming a picture of how I might look naked. Her breath hisses between clenched teeth.
Her scent is richer now that she’s aroused.
My phone suddenly rings. It’s Miss Oduor
My father taught me to never ignore business calls so I go ahead and pick it.
“Hey….I know this sounds crazy but I’ve been drinking alone in the house and I just started thinking about you. I had a fun time with you today and I miss you so much already. Where are you? I can come pick you up. I am lonely. I need some company.”
My heart beats rapidly. The tall chic stares at me with cartoon eyes. She has heard what I’ve just been told. Miss Oduor is waiting for me to answer. What will I do?
Adapted from Ghafla.Co.Ke