At one point when i was reading the Bible, I came across a verse that said…”By faith, the walls of Jericho came down”. Then I continued reading because i wanted to know exactly why it was coming down untouched. They had circled it 7 times in 7 days.
Likewise, I have also gone round and round the City in search for more adventure. I am a strong kid, so never mind. After all, how do you explain my survival in high school for 4 years, without proper food, medical supplies or whatever else that makes life interesting? There were also times when i was suspended for 2 weeks, and i never went home for fear of being reprimanded. So technically, i was surviving on my own—and no one knew about it. I couldn’t even construct a complete English sentence by then, yet here i was, serving my 2-weeks sentence while others are busy learning grammar in my absence, as i found out later.
Anyway, there’s this one joint in town that earned me this bitter punishment. Buddies would talk about this joint every time we came from a short break, say half-term. I was a timid guy by them, so my innocence wouldn’t allow me to dig into their story—i simply wanted to get the name of the place right, then everything else would follow. I knew Nairobi was so small to hide it’s dirtiest secrets from me.
I went round and round until, one day, I bumped into this hanging signboard, written in black letters with a yellow theme (I know someone knows this place). At this point, i believed that the walls of ”Jericho” had fallen.
But am always a lucky guy, and whenever i visit such places, i carry an extra coin to spend due to the nature of such a visit. Am wearing a jeans trouser, with 1000 bob tucked inside my socks. Security is very important, and now am totally relying on the stories I’ve heard about this place and also similar other joints.
Thoughts are rushing on my mind of whether to climb the stairs or let the opportunity slip away. My adrenaline is pumping, to the extent of robbing me of my breath. I know these are critical moments i shouldn’t let pass. So this is my chance because half-term break is ending on Sunday afte……today is Sato.
So I decide to venture into this infamous building to experience what my buddies have been talking about. This must be a safe haven for prostitutes (for lack of a better term) during the day. You know, it’s dangerous to peddle ”cookie jar” in broad daylight on the streets because the law says so.
By now, am sited with a few men, who look more mature than me, i could tell. So i order one ”Tusker baridi” as i figure out what to do with a bevy of beautiful ladies inside here. Am surprised because, unlike what i had expected, these hookers were calm and relaxed, not in a hurry to show desperation for my money.
After a few gulps, i finally gain enough courage to ask one girl……”Ni mangapi shot?” Notice that i have to use their language so that i don’t come across as new to this place. If you’re new, you’ll pay more for sex here, so they say.
Am told it’s only Ksh300. A sigh of relied, i can go two rounds before i finish my money. So we quickly strike a deal with this slender and light well-dressed up girl. She walks me to the counter, where am supposed to pay 200 bob for my room fees. I deep my hands in my pockets in search of loose money……you know when you pay with a thousand bob, these people are not so honest to return back the balance. I am not ready to lose, so i fumble my hands in my pockets, and all i can find is Ksh100.
Due to memory lapse, i can’t remember that i had two 500 bob notes that i hid inside my socks. This is the worst day of my life with a whore, i lament in silence. I obviously don’t want to tell her that i can’t find money in my pocket, so i decide to trick her. ”Wacha niende kwenye luu ndio nirudi…..”, i whisper in Kiswahili. I have to find my way amidst the crowd and leave this place without being noticed.