The bad-ass, to-hell-with-rules-and-regulations behavior during my campus days exposed me to several near-death experiences. In fact, I attribute my survival to good genes and luck – but mostly luck.
Now, I remember one afternoon while walking to the matatu stage hapo Chiromo, a white Toyota Prado swished past me at a very high speed and, in a strange twist of events, suddenly veered off the road… It narrowly missed a KPLC pole before hitting a perimeter wall!
A young, petite woman – somewhere in the borderline between adolescence and early-twenties – stepped out of the driver’s seat (Btw, have you noticed that most guzzlers on the road these days are lady-driven/owned?) The young driver was trembling like a poplar, completely shaken…
I took charge of the situation by quickly assessing the damage to the car. The freak accident had caused no major damage save for some scratched paint-work, twisted bullbar and a flattened front wheel. I volunteered to fix the wheel an offer which the overwhelmed lady agreed. I hurriedly embarked on the task like I was an erudite professional and within no minutes the car was good to go.
The extremely thankful lady, an angelic smile perched on her face pulled out her wallet, sifted through wads of notes and then gave me 6K liquid cash. Mmmh! The money was a real lifeline to me as I was totally broke.
She reversed her car and then, as if reading my thoughts, lowered the window and handed me a business card. “If it pleases you, you can call me we talk baadaye, sawa?” The words must have been music to my ears… She waved, mimed a goodbye kiss and then sped off. A cursory glance at her perfectly-manicured fingers revealed no rings – an all clear sign. Pals, I had spotted an opportunity, a money-minting opportunity from the obviously loaded lady.
Not one to joke around with opportunities, I made a call to her after one hour. The lady, who from the business card I knew was called Jeanne and in car-dealership business, politely told me she was held up somewhere but will make it a point of calling me back later.
Yippee! At, or around 8 pm a call came from Jeanne. She profusely thanked me for the kind gesture I had shown her during the unfortunate accident encounter, “I am more than grateful aki….How is your programme tomorrow? Can we meet at Java Kimathi Street I buy you coffee?” Jeanne dangled an offer which I accepted without any hesitation.
At 2 pm sharp; sweaty-palmed, wide-eyed and anticipatory I walked into Java. Jeanne proved to be a punctual time-keeper as I found her there, waiting for me. She was wearing a bright azure top, an elegant Brazilian weave, and an easy smile. The combination of her flawless chocolate skin and her youthful insouciance made her radiate and glow. Many will say that ‘Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder’ but make no mistake Jeanne’s was achingly beautiful… She was stunning!
Her talkative, exuberant even infectious manner made it easy for us to strike a friendly conversation. …And mmmh! The lady proved to be a textbook example of beauty with brains; capable of holding intellectual discourse on a wide variety of topics. Looking at us, one could think we were long-time close friends…such a sweet soul.
In the course of our banter, Jeanne confided to me that she was a second-wife (mild term for a mpango wa kando) to a high-ranking military General (name with-held) at DoD. The military honcho, Jeanne informed me was a ruthless rake and a shrewd manipulator but nevertheless an extremely generous man who maintained her so well. The chap had also opened a car dealership business for her at Westlands.
That marked the beginning of our many coffee dates and rendezvous. Each time we met, Jeanne used to shower me with gifts and ‘spoil’ me with so much money. Folks, I had hit a gold-mine…
One day, she invited me to her house at Westlands. I flatly turned down the offer but she insisted, assuring me that ‘Mzee’ (she used to refer to her husband as such) was away on official duty. With that assurance, I swallowed fear and stuck my neck in the noose of fate and agreed to go.
Her home was located on the second floor of one of those exclusive Westlands Apartments. On entering her living area, I froze when I saw two prominently placed portraits of the well-built, six-foot-plus, no-nonsense military honcho. In one of the portrait, he was adorned in a bolero hat and military fatigues, in the other he was in full ceremonial uniform complete with medals. The portraits appeared to be making faces at us!
Fear gripped me, my face suddenly looked pinched. The sharp Jeanne noticed this and quickly served me a glass of Louis Roederer Champagne which I gulped down in one swipe. This cooled my jumpy nerves. Food was served and I ate my fill. Jeanne retreated for about twenty minutes and then…boom! Emerged wearing this sexy, transparent lingerie…She sat next to me; her bare legs and thin panty with her pubic triangle showing through her lingerie! The sight was evocative as it was stunning!
Blood rushed to my small head. It throbbed mercilessly, almost bursting through the trouser. Unable to hold anymore and with my champagne-induced courage, I grabbed Jeanne and kissed her. She responded passionately. I peeled the lingerie shoulder straps and slipped it down her legs, removed her panty (I noticed she had not shaved her ‘pussy’) and then stroked her with skillful fingers. She moaned as I rubbed, nudged and poked her already erect clit in a rhythm…I licked her pointed nipples as she moaned the more, turning her head and shoulders desperately while twitching her hip. I pulled off my T-shirt and trouser. She quickly jumped onto my lap. We jostled a bit and booom…I entered her! Eeeish! The girl was hot, so hot like an oven! She began gyrating against me with animal zest, gripping me harder, her fingers tracing the length of my spine. Her breathing raced. Kweli she was sex-starved! After like twenty minutes of intense sex, we ejaculated in an explosion of sexual pleasure. We then lay on the thick carpet in silence…
I looked at the General’s portraits and hey! They seemed to be staring at us with slanted, devilish eyes! I came back to my senses and realized I was an interloper in another man’s territory. I begged to leave but Jeanne would hear none of it. She told me in no uncertain terms that leaving will mark the end of our relationship! Not wanting to risk losing her, I accepted the sleep-over offer kishingo upande.
We drank, danced, and copulated till late at night. It was all hunky-dory. Later on, we extended our partying to the main bedroom where we had great moments between the sheets.
But, wait a minute, in a sudden turn of events, I heard a loud bang on the front door and then quick footsteps… Haija! A few moments later, the bedroom doorknob started to turn. Then I heard the sound of a key making to open the door.
Dang it! I jumped out of the bed and rushed into a walk-in closet in the bedroom. I peeped through the tiny opening that the closet allowed and saw a big guy – blunt and no-nonsense storming the room. “What is happening here, Jeanne?” Jeanne’s husband howled as he paced up the room like a ravening beast, a black pistol butt clearly visible in his waistband holster.
“Eeeeh! What is not going on here? I demand an answer?” The guy shouted at the equally shocked Jeanne. Her face was flooded with shame and slicked with sweat. The General scanned around and began to rummage through the room. Before long, he had stumbled on my trouser and Jeanne’s panty. Enraged, the chap held Jeanne by the scruff of her neck and unleashed five proper sledgehammer slaps/vibare to her face. Blood spluttered from her nose…
“Where is he??” The fired-up General grunted, shaking his head while holding my trouser. He walked over the bed and knelt down, peeping under. Searching for me. He looked around the room and then released this evil smile. He looked at the closet and then smiled again. If I wasn’t hiding under the bed. I was definitely in the closet. I could see him smile as he faced the closet. He released his pistol from the holder without breaking sight with the closet, cocked it, uttered some gibberish and slowly began to walk towards my hide-out – he was in a mood to commit murder!
My heart raced, my body trembled. I could feel my lips shake as I waited for the worst…death was coming, I was certain of it…I peed and farted uncontrollably.
Jeanne suddenly bolted out of the room shouting (maybe not wanting to witness my death), this proved to be a masterly move as the General went after her in hot pursuit. This small confusion afforded me a lifeline from the ticklish situation.
I quickly came out of my hide-out and stealthily tip-toed towards the opened bedroom window. I twisted my body and slithered through the center of the large window and hung precariously on its edge. What to do? What to do? The shouting and cursing General stormed back to the bedroom…I released my grip, preferring a quick death from falling than torture in the hands of the obviously ruthless military guy. Pheew! As luck would have it, I landed safely on my four (good genes).
I picked myself up and tiptoed to the small entry gate. I opened the gate. Naked, no money, and no nothing - I had zero options but to hit the road running - all the way to campus! I took off at a speed that could make Usain Bolt proud of me. The vehicles that I met, and the guards manning the many gates along the route were bemused and amused in equal measure at the sight of a muscular, naked runner – guess they thought I was either a night runner on the beat or a mad ‘Mathareian’ on the run.
With my college ID and national ID left at Jeanne’s place, I knew the General would easily trace me. So, I took a quick decision of deferring my studies for a year and went into exile at a friend’s place deep in Maasailand.
I went back to campo after a year and luckily completed my studies without any qualms incidents…I never came to know of what happened to Jeanne as her phone is perpetually out of reach.