A very sad sex story

Sex stories are supposed to be enjoyable, right?Not always. Especially not this one since the end was so tragic, and left us traumatized for a long time.
It was a long time ago, when primary school boys did a subject called handwork while girls went about doing domestic science. It used to be a double lesson, from breaktime to lunch hour. On this day, us boys were carrying our pieces of wood and pangas to go carve cooking sticks, the best efforts of which would end in teachers’ kitchens while the poorer ones ended up in the headmaster’s office, an arsenal for working on our butt-cheeks when we got cheeky.
We we strolling to our handwork corner when we heard a frantic tsk tsk. At the corner of the classroom block was Mr Jack, furtively beckoning someone. Jack was a new teacher, recently posted to the school straight from college. The object of his attention was a girl, a class six girl. She quickly looked around and gave the briefest of nods.
wangari was no ordinary girl. You see, she was one of these early bloomers. Besides being very yellow yellow, she had “rich” aunts working in Nairobi who brought her an endless supply of strong perfumes and nice smelling pomades when most of us did with the then version of arimis or sometimes the foam of a bar soap to reduce the mpararo.
We called Wangari kanungi, which was short for kanungi wega (the sweet smelling one). Being slightly bigger than us and with a full bossom, she was the desire of many of us who could only drool, as she was already playing in the superleague (her boyfriend was said to be one of the few men in the area doing “higher”-A levels- studies).
We got curious and closely monitored her only to see her disappear into a patch of tasseling corn. We surreptitiously followed and we were soon next to mr Jack’s house. the door was closed but the wooden window of the bedroom part of the two-room timber house was open. from the window we heard strange music, the chingk chingk chingk of the springs and wires of a vono bedstead being worked at an energetic but very steady rhythm. when we peeped, Mr Jack’s bare ass was moving up and down, his trousers and 007 briefs pulled down to mid-thigh…where kanungi’s bare legs also met. her arms were around his neck…

the five of us who were in the initial reconnaissance party crept away and when we got back to our open air class word quickly spread and soon there was a beeline for mr jack’s window through the maize…

half an hour later, kanungi strolled back to her class where her fellow girls were knitting and crotcheting sundry clothing items…

drama began at lunch time when every boy didn’t waste time to let kanungi know that they knew what had gone down. they demonstrated a sexual dance, minicked with ringed fingers or simply chingked chingked when she was within ear short…the ensuing afternoon must have been the longest of her life, and sadly, her last in school ever…
kanungi didn’t come to school wednesday, nor thursday. her neighbour told the class teacher she had been taken to hospital…
on friday afternoon we received the sad news that she had committed suicide. her mother found her hanging from the rafters of their house when she went to give her lunch. she could not bear the shame…

epilogue-we buried her on the wednesday the following week…

22 Likes

What a Touching story…

I have still have to consult “Gugu” for Maneno Magumu of the Day though;…

1.surreptitiously

2.furtively

  1. tasseling corn

Kabuda, you twisted fcuk, you had to like that story.

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The story is good. Sad but good. I like it too

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Fcuk off Mister Righteousness!
I Liked the Narrative of it and the eloquence of the wording to it …
I obviously didn`t like it that the young Whore topped herself!..
What Do you take me for?.. A Saddist?!..

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That is just sad.

From my village back in the day, the prettiest and cleanest upper primary girls would be given duties in the houses of teachers. Washing utensils, cooking tea and some were lured into sex by male teachers. This exempted them from school duties like fetching water from the river, repairing class rooms, cutting grass, picking coffee, basically hard labor. Unfortunately for some it marked the beginning of the end of their education. The sad thing was that such girls became the talk of Marima (daily hired casuals in the shamba) when they dropped out of school once they became pregnant.

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Damn you Mr. Jack…

Mtu ananyandua mwoman ako Std. 6 banae

Mr Jack must have been @uwesmake uncle

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sad story it is

this teachera nyandua even class 4 students

What do you do if you “feel” the story - not necessarily like it? And what if the story is sad, but so well told? In that case I think there needs to be something else besides like.

KITU KAMA IMESIMAMA TUTAKULA DWYFWY

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Very touching. I am slow to anger and I consider myself to be emotionally balanced. Lakini mtu kuguza msichana wangu will be asking for death. Case ni baadaye

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Nice hekaya

and yet its funny when a child is being discussed the rest of the time here.

lemme guess, someone else’s child is a grown woman to someone else.

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Interesting but a sad ending. Poor Kanungi!

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ukiguza wangu mahead butts ndizo zitakupata

Those days HIV was not an issue, you feared GATEGO AND TUMANDE

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sad story.