I love reading Njoki Chege’s column: City Girl. Despite her venomous tirade of words she gets the point and shares it. This has made her a bull’s eye for internet bashing and unwarranted insults.
Does she cower? No, she speaks her mind further out because the truth irks more than sugar coated lies. She attacked drivers of blue Subaru’s based on their character flaws and everyone saw a scorned woman hating on a beautiful car. Recently she ‘attacked’ the mzungu dating battalion. She went ahead to write how she isn’t sorry for any of them because they willingly led themselves into a trap. I agree, sympathies aside ‘msiba wa kujitakia hauna pole’. But I don’t want to talk about internet lovers falling in love and ending up as sex slaves becaue their lust for money was disguised as love at first sight (of his wallet). I want to talk about the kept woman.
The phenomenon of kept women is fast rising in this rather dull city of ours. A kept woman in a simple non defamatory definition is a woman that prefers the company of men that can fund her lifestyle. Now these men can either be married or not.
Picture this a young girl joins campus, she meets a vibrant culture of alcohol, partying, dating, sex and non-issues like studying. She’s beautiful and she knows it, the string of men behind her drooling all over her derrière only goes further to confirm it – she realizes that the men she meets are just grown boys. They want to take her out to some cheap rate fast food joint and buy her chicken fried with oil that was left over during the last supper throwing in a bonus of two sachets of tomato sauce and a handful of poverty struck fried potatoes. They’ll enjoy a meal as she survives through the dry jokes and they’ll go back to his place making a stopover at a supermarket or a liquor store where he will buy some cheap vodka. Actually, only the label says vodka but she has a feeling it’s a concoction of methanol, nail polish remover and paint thinner. She won’t say a word as he also picks a bottle of lime juice in an attempt to sweeten the bitter pill she literally has to swallow.
The man-boy knows what he wants – to bed her – but is too cowardly to even buy a packet of condoms. So they end up in his one room dancehall blaring from his laptop speaker because, he lent out his speakers to a friend that was having a party. He opens the bottle with hardly no ceremony at all, she realizes he did not even bother to ask if she likes the said drink. So with a plastic cup in hand with a toxic concoction she smiles slowly sipping the drink. One thing leads to another and in drunkenness they engage in pathetic coitus. They wake up in the morning and the guy asks if she has any money to buy a pill because he can’t be a father, yet. She wakes up to go, no bathroom to freshen up her body stinking of alcohol scented sweat feeling disgusted. She buys the pill and goes home, takes a shower and watches a movie. A few minutes later another guy is blowing up her phone asking if she’s free to hang out. She knows what that means o she turns it down and stays indoors all day.
One day she’s at restaurant along Ring Road Kilimani treating herself and taking a break from the fast food dates. She’s ordered a glass of merlot and is waiting for her grilled steak with mushroom sauce. A gentleman who looks a bit older walks in and smiles at her. After all she is wearing her white blouse that complements her full bosom. The man walks up to her and introduces himself in a polite manner and asks to join her. He is polished and eloquent and she’s skeptical, but what the hell right? He sits and they have a really fun conversation. He is funny and his views are unadulterated by intentions of sex. Her food comes and he also places an order a few wine glasses later he pays for her lunch and volunteers to drive her home. She declines and he offers to pay a cab to take her home – that’s more appealing and she takes up the offer. Thy exchange numbers and soon start chatting up.
They go out on more dates, goodbye cheap vodka and fast food joints where she had to fight for her foods attention with flies. The guy isn’t so bad after all and after a few dates she lets him take her home – his home. A finely furnished apartment with all the amenities a girl could ask for coming complete with a gym and a sauna. That night they watch a movie on his ultra HD television enjoying the crisp pictures and the immersive sound from his home theatre. She’s drinking wine he’s enjoying a heavy glass of whiskey and after the movie they kiss. She lets him have her. In the morning she has a hot shower, finds breakfast and doesn’t worry about buying pills because he had a pack of condoms. A cab comes and takes her home and she looks forward to another night out. A few more weeks of shopping sprees and actually feeling like a lady she finds out he is married. She should end it right? That’s the right thing to do after all. But she is plagued by the fear of dating the boys that would take her back to the fast food restaurants, buy her second generation liquor and make her body a hotbed of thriving sexually transmitted infections – after all they sleep around as well. She’s torn between feeling like a lady and feeling worthless – your guess is as good as mine she wants to feel like a lady.
The man apologizes and even funds a holiday for her and two of her friends down coast. She picked the lesser evil according to her and all over sudden the immature boys flog her character on basis of morality. They forget how they wanted to sleep with her recklessly and abandon her soon after. They feel jealous that they cannot provide the life she wants this builds to resentment and finally bitterness. She now has a better phone, networked with the man’s friends and has an internship lined up at a prestigious company. It looks like all is going well for her and maybe it will who are we to judge? Judge because she chose over your fast food offers, pathetic sex, cheap alcohol and ill treatment and opted or fun holidays, furnished apartments, job offers and shopping sprees? Let’s be honest what would you choose? Get off your moral high horse you self-serving bastard, let a lady do her.