Maurice was in the middle of a meeting when he received the call. On seeing the name of the caller, he had to excuse himself for some privacy. It was urgent.
The call was from his ‘housemate’ in Umoja. It was unlike him to be calling so there must have been a good reason. The call was urgent simply because in this relationship, it was Maurice who always called.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“The house has been burgled clean. You need to come,” the caller said, before going on to give details of the incident.
Maurice left work early that day, went to Umoja and sorted out the mess. He needed the house, and couldn’t afford to have it in bad shape.
You see, when not in Umoja for his ‘sexcapades’ Maurice is a happily married man with two children and a family that lives in Ruaka. Umoja is his ‘bachelor pad’, where, once in a while, he disappears with many of his mistresses.
As far as his ‘conquests’ are concerned, the house in Umoja is his home. Most have no clue that he is in fact, married. On the other hand his wife has no idea that he regularly visits his little hideout in Eastlands and that he has even rented a house there.
“I have ‘lived’ in Umoja for almost two years now,” he explains when we meet, with a cheeky smile.
“I moved in with a distant cousin, whom I convinced to stay in the two-bedroom house. I pay half the rent, and pick a few bills here and there. In the house I have my own room, so to whoever I go with there with, it easily passes off for my abode,” he says.
Maurice has plastered the walls with pictures of himself, he has a huge TV set in the living room and there are other electronics that point to his lavish lifestyle and an evidence of his affluence and healthy bank account.
In fact, a person entering the house would easily say the cousin is the one being hosted, not the other way round.
“This is Nairobi and I am the kind of man who sometimes cheat, so I have to do it in a smart fashion. Instead of spending money and time in cheap, sickly lodgings, or expensive hotels out of town, why not have a house where I can go any time of day or night?” he argues rather unperturbed.
Maurice is not alone in these dark arts of cheating. Many men, and women, seem to have taken the game to a whole different level, changing the rules of engagement and making convenient plans that those they play their games with cannot easily decipher as part of an intricate web of deceit.
Gone are the days of getting lodgings, which come with the risk of being tracked by suspicious spouses or bumping into unwanted friends or even relatives. With this arrangement, once the car is parked in the compound, there is no way of nabbing him as he goes on with his activities.
The plans are so well-organised, even their spouses fail to get a whiff.
https://www.sde.co.ke/sdemedia/sdeimages/monday/czahi6ol947twfybwp5a0012acbe37a.jpg[B]They leave home claiming to be going for business trips and work assignments[/B]
“Almost all my friends have similar arrangements. I managed to make them see the practicability of such a plan and they saw the financial benefits of it. Spending 15 Gs (Sh15,000) every month on the rent is better than picking some strange skin disease, being busted in some lodging downtown, being kicked out so that the room can get cleaned or spending much more going out of town just for some pleasure,” he justifies the plan, before adding that most of his friends help each other out with shopping for household goods and in moving into these houses they cheekily call ‘vichinjio’ (slaughterhouses).
![https://www.sde.co.ke/sdemedia/sdeimages/monday/czahi6ol947twfybwp5a0012acbe37a.jpg[B]They](https://www.sde.co.ke/sdemedia/sdeimages/monday/czahi6ol947twfybwp5a0012acbe37a.jpg%5BB%5DThey){kind=link}
Some pay for these houses jointly and keep each other in the loop whenever one needs to use the facility. They pay for other expenses in the house to give it a sense of normalcy.
“Another important thing is to ensure the person permanently occupying the house is a discreet fellow, one who does not attract attention or rut you out. Everything should appear as normal as possible even to the owner of the house. For starters, one should avoid relatives and family friends,” he says.
When it is time for action, this occupant is ‘exiled’ to give way to the person bringing the woman home.
On the other side of town, Tecla, a secretary with a PR firm in Nairobi, has also found a cunning way to lead a double life. The 28-year old owns two smart phones, but only has one on herself when going home to her fiancé, a man she has lived with for a year now.
“Whenever I meet any man who is interested in me, I give them the number of the phone I leave in the office and I tell them that I live in a very noisy house with nieces and nephews, which means I usually don’t hear calls at night,” she says. The ‘cheating phone’ stays at work, never leaving her drawer.
The phone fanatic explains that she would otherwise be easily caught if she flirted or used her normal phone at home because she will get carried away. Her fiancé is very possessive too and would pick out anything fishy about her activities.
“Plus, I would find it hard to pretend that I am clean when I am not. I am not very good at putting up a straight face when I am lying. Why not avoid all that drama by enduring at night but enjoying during the day,” she says.
A smart lady with expensive taste, all her dates are done over lunch time, and her sexual escapades intricately planned to avoid any detection. The nature of her job means that she goes out of town for activations and other work-related events, which makes it less suspicious when she goes for nefarious activities.
Why does she cheat?
“My fiancé has no money and the people I work with and meet can sustain my lifestyle. I love him, but he can’t afford to take care of my needs.
I take ‘trips’ once in a while with the ‘boss’ as the secretary, and my fiancé gives me his full blessings. In fact, he respects my space and rarely calls when I am away,” she says.
According to Maurice, one needs to be smart about the way they cheat.
“Like for me and my buddies, we ensure the ‘vichinjios’ are the opposite side of town from the family home. You have to ensure it’s a place you won’t regularly bump into friends and acquaintances whether it is in the streets or on the road,” he says.
“Also, I ensure my women are not people who regularly go to Ruaka. It’s a lot of work, but completely worth it,” he explains.