My first date is supposed to be that moment of magic but This Is NOT Ess
I had freshly installed myself as the new cockerel in the city when I met my homie Tamara. After years of occupying the Friend Zone in her heart,I was pleasantly suprised to meet her in the big city. She had turned herself into this city girl with a Texas accent,a kilo of Mascara on her face and a very generous amount of cleavage on display. After a trip to Sanford and Sons I was out of friend zone and we quickly setup a date for that evening. I put on my borrowed tuxedo with a voucher for drinks safely hidden somewhere in my pocket we set off for a night out. It was a night to remember as we had fun hopping from one club to another. Things were going on well until we took this cab to Black Rhino pub in Ruiru, somewhere along the road the cab broke down .we were stuck in the middle of nowhere and then from her bag Tamara took out a bottle of vodka, poured libation to the ancestors and the party continued as we waited for the mechanic. The cold air and the twinkling stars conspired with the gods to fuel an urge,the desire to tame this flame inside us,the unquenchable thirst that was developing. As the poignant lyrics of the crickets lulled the night we rose to a crescendo, the night witnessing as the green lodge accommodated our act.
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The excitement somehow slipped out of it all the next morning as the occasional messaging disappeared with it all and I forgot Tamara just like a serious Kenyan would have done. Days turned into weeks and weeks gave rise to months. Then one day Tamara texted me and said we need to talk. Now every man will agree with me that this kind of opening statement is no invitation to a cup of tea or coffee. Like a loyal son of the African soil I put my phone on flight mode for 48 hours hoping that the looming hurricane Katrina had blown over by then and I was proven right. I immediately instructed my noble mind to forget the incident and engineer negative thoughts about Tamara from then henceforth, painting her as a two legged mongoose. As the gods would have it,I managed to sneak down to my village days later to a warm reception from the Engineer and Gadaffi. A few cupfuls of busaa later and the two were taunting me to go for the MCA seat. "Omwami, you have travelled far and wide. Your oratory skills are legendary. Your good deeds precede your noble self" the engineer had massaged my ego and I promptly handed him 50shillings as a campaign bonus /deposit as we await my candidature. Gadaffi being the man he is decided to charm me further " mimi najua political analyst hapa. Wale wazee wanaamua siasa za huku. Nitakupa link uone kama hupati nomination via Ford Kenya Party." The talk went on until that parting shot was dropped by the engineer,tupatane kwa Fanguch kesho tukule mbuzi. As I chewed on the juicy goat ribs, Tamara came over. It was a very awkward moment for me as she sat next to me blabbering alot of nothing. My mind travelled to the world of fantasy at this point. " akiwa msichana utampa jina gani?" That statement brought me to the present. "Unasemaje?" I asked." Naulizia jina tutapea huyu mtoi wetu kama atakua msichana " Tamara replied sweetly. I now noticed her protruding stomach, the hope on her face,the excitement painted all over her face. I said a silent prayer,promising the lord tithes and offerings, praying for deliverance from this trap, the nightmare from hell but as I whispered my amen,the devil was still there smiling through his vessel Tamara. I denied any involvement with this daughter of Eve and swore that I had been celibate since the age of 14years. I quickly exited the mbuzi party and headed for Yaya Nafula's den to drown a couple of illicits. As I was busy taking care of the bananas growing near the gate the next morning I saw Tamara and her whole clan walking towards our gate,,their walking style borrowed from the Anti Nkurunzinza movement (I hope that is the spelling ). I quickly turned to uncle Wanambuko and gave him a summary of this saba saba movement heading our way. Being a seasoned victim of such movements,he quickly initiated an Okoa kijana campaign, I was told to hide in the banana plantation as he went for my bags. Several seconds later and we were scaling the perimeter wall and heading for the city via the forest as war cries and chants reigned behind.