HER ONE NIGHT STAND!
I saw her walking towards me.
“Hey, thanks for coming all the way to Yaya, parking in town is just a nightmare,” she said hugging me with her cheeks.
“You are so gorgeous, how did you find my blog,” I asked half shocked half amazed.
“Oh, I did not,” she says as she put her handbag on the third chair.
“Well I loved the cheating story, a friend of mine sent me a link, and I was like, I should tell her my story,” she laughs.
She was older too, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties.
“Wow, I only see such great makeup on the gram, so glamourous,” I was now complimenting her. Made a mental note to think before I speak, sometimes I forget.
“Oh you`re such a flirt, she said grazing my hand,” honestly her nails are a story for another day.
“So mental health huh….” she said pulling her chair as she raised her legs up, she was short 4`11 but it looks like she loved her heels.
“Yeah mental, health, I sigh, what do you think about mental health, I asked?
She looked like an angel. Like she was flourishing
“Tell me, what is you story?” I ask as the waiter comes to take our orders
“Uuuh,” she says flipping the menu, I notice her two silver rings, one that looked like an engagement ring and the other one.
” I´ll have a lemonade please,” she says as if she had already made up her mind when she was driving on Waiyaki way coming.
“I´ll have iced coffee,” I said. I had made up my mind a week ago, as a foodie, I love pre planned meals.
She walks away, the waitress, her name is Joyce she looks worn out, like she had gone partying the whole night and dragged herself to work.
“There´s this one time my mom found me hidden in the closet, I was reading one of those erotic sexual novels, you see they would spread like woodfire once the school library brought them to school and every girl would want to have a copy of those books, I`m quite sure it was the same in your school. On this holiday my mom found me in the closet masturbating to one of these books.
She knew I read those books; everyone did read them.”
“She was raging with fury, she pulled my ears all the way to the living room, sat me down and prayed for me. She prayed that the evil sex demon in me would depart from me.vShe forced me to enrolled in the worship team, so I would spend all my time in church. Every evening during my holidays was set aside for church choir.
“Do you love singing,” I ask?
“No, I have a very bad voice I cannot sing to save my life, she says, I was one of those girls put at the back with boys with base. Look at me, my makeup is all the creativity I´ve got, I´m just a bad singer. My mom did it to ensure that I would never ever have time to think about sex. We would personally sit down on closing day and write a timetable Monday through Saturday morning. All my time was scheduled. Saturday afternoon was church practice and Sunday was fully booked for church. I still do not see how she thought this was a great idea.”
“Excuse me,” Joyce announces her presence, signalling me to move my book from the table.
She sets the drinks on the table; Carol looks at her watch.
“Hope I’m not keeping you from something,” I said smiling.
“No, you´re not, it’s just that I really get into the story and by the time I´ll be done it might be late, I don´t want to keep you,” she adds politely.
“Oh! Take as much time as you want,” I reply. I live for these stories.
“Oh so…she sighs, where was I…. instead of my mother ceasing my teenage sexual heat, she only opened the doors wide. I met Kevin in church, yes, his real name was Kevin so you can use the cliché name. He was nice, a hot tall well-built dark coco Kalenjin man, his teeth were perfect don´t ask,” she laughs briefly then goes on.
“I grew up in Eldoret, with the ushago set up but in a middle-class kind of family. My mom was a doctor, my dad was the nurse, I know,” she shakes her head smiling, “so many people thought it should have been the other way around. My mom was well respected, we had to keep a certain standard of behaviour as Watoto wa daktari.”
“Kevin and I would sneak into the church school area, and we would talk about….. I honestly don´t remember what we talked about. Funny how things that mean so much to you at a particular time can be so easily forgotten. We would experiment sexually, then sneak back to the choir. I do not know how no one noticed our disappearance. But we were such bad singers always on the back, she shrugs as she sips her lemonade.”
“These plastic straws are not so good for the environment,” she comments but gives me no chance to respond. (it’s cool, I agreed)
“We were in love, that simple kind of love that doesn´t involve money. Only one of my friends knew about us, the only one who had watched us sneak back into church several times. Then high school ended. I ended up in college in the university of Nairobi to do accounting. I told you I´m not artistic I´m just smart. The university of Nairobi was like a sexual pool.My parents allowed me and my older sister to move to Roysambu, she was in USIU doing PR, her friends were dope. I was a UON student but I was always in USIU, I could not believe the variety of guys I could chose from.”
“Huh….and I did choose!” she says slyly.
“My romantic novels and Hollywood movies taught me to explore my sexuality. I was a free sexual spirit with no bills to pay. I once dated a Gambian, good man, but I settle on those pointy dudes. Oh, they loved my colour, see this melanin;” she pinches her hand, “this is gold…haha,” she says laughing.
“I dated two Indian guys, these kids had money, my weekends would start on Friday. You see the way prado´s are usually parked in Uon Friday afternoon, yes, my man would come to pick me up after my classes at 12, only that he was younger and probably supposed to marry his “cousin” in a year.”
“I travelled so much that period of time, I met so many people with such different perspectives in life, I learnt so much. Its like being in a limbo, being in a relationship with someone but you both know you need to break up because of cultural background. We just enjoyed the dating for a time frame. The Indian guys needed an adventurous girl and I needed that kind of money.”
“I got attached to the first Indian, the second Indian was just a rebound, after the other one got married. We would occasionally meet up for sex and reminiscing. I was so young at that time I decided I needed to keep exploring, I went on a sexual spree, you know threesomes, lesbians, orgies but mostly it was just guys, different kind of guys, I would go to the club with the aim of sleeping with an Ethiopian guy, and I would make sure I found one, I think the devil supports such agendas, because honestly I never lacked. I was a recycling expert, I would have an on and off thing with the guys, just to keep my body count in check.”
“Haha” I chuckle, “Sorry I say, continue.”
“So, here comes the story now. I remember that day,” she says nibbling her lips.
“We were going to a club in town, I needed an Indian guy that night, I just missed Amar, she lets his name slip (it was not Amar). We got to the club and ended up in Westie, I did find an Indian, we went to his place we had coitus, then the condom broke when he was pulling.”
“Aaargh….” she says angrily I just felt a hot liquid and I knew he had messed up.
“He apologised, probably way too much, we looked for an open chemist that night. He promised me that he was clean, I did not know if I could believe him, a total stranger I just slept with, but I did anyway. I was not about to go to the hospital to get judged, honestly, I did not know what people did when the condom broke on a one-night stand.”
“He drove me home that morning, he bought me breakfast, told me he´d cover me if anything went wrong and promised to call me for another date, I honestly thought I chose the best guy for a one-night stand. I went home, washed off the stranger’s trace and moved on.
Amar called that morning; I had been continuously texting him the previous night, we hooked up, we went to our usual place, we used to go this ka hotel in Limuru, it did not have people who could recognise him. We had a good time, and by the way, everyone does not believe this part, the second time, while he was climaxing, guess what happened, the condom burst!”
“It’s like my vagina had declared a war,”
“He was not shocked, in our long sexual history, this had happened before. He even suggested that I get on some pills or family plan, but I was not ready yet. My mother raised me with the mentality of pills are meant for married couples only. My rule was if you did not put a ring on my finger, then you put that glove on.”
“I remember hearing the condom burst, then his ignorant ass just kept going. I did not resist, I thought he would pull out, he did not. It was like a pre meditated thought. Let me paint this scene more clearly,” she says as she taps her long nude nails on the table.
Taaaah…. Condom burst.
Two seconds later ooh shit, I’m so sorry
Will you need money for the pill, we can get it as I drop you tomorrow?
No, I’m fine I say holding on to the white sheets.
Her brain …. what the fuck have I done, I just took the pill less than ten hours ago, oooh shit what if it doesn’t work who will be my baby’s father…. ooh God please help both of the men to be impotent.
Hey babe this has happened before, it`s all good, he says honking my boob, you want to go another round raw because we have already messed up.
No, I said heading to the bathroom, I needed to cry
Babe your phone, he calls out, who is Arush.
No one, I say running to the side table, he picked it up, hello why are you calling my girlfriend?
I stand by the bedside, watching him speak, his face turning red and his tone rising, I blur out the conversation, they were speaking in a different language.
“To this day, I do not know why I didn’t try to fight it, why I did not try to snatch the phone away from him, it’s like my survival instincts stopped, my conscious was tired of lying. There I was with a married man. At the time, that did not seem like a bad thing to do, I never felt guilty about it, I felt like I had him first, like he was mine. Till that moment.”
“By the time he put down my phone and started his grown-up tantrums, I was trying to squeeze into my jeans. He yelled for a while, in the meantime, I got dressed and ordered an uber, I could see he was hurt, I just did not understand why.”
“Tell me why, why did you sleep with the guy who called, I thought we were special?” he shouted as he came towards me.
Amar was never a violent man, he was that kind of man who would hold sit down meetings after my tantrums, to solve an argument, but this one time, I had reduced him to what he hated, he was screaming like a woman. I did not react.
He kept quiet, he sat by the bed and just looked at me.
I sat, next to him, my uber was five minutes away.
First of all, you have a wife and secondly, I am not your girlfriend. I was, once upon a time, but I cannot have my life at a standstill, while you go around and have your Indian babies.
But…. but… I never let him finish the statement, perhaps because I did not want him to.
I have to go, my uber ride is here, don’t worry I will take care of your mess for you, I said as I kissed him goodbye.
I already had, those P2 pills that are supposed to work for more than 24 hours while in your body, I presumed.
I did not talk to either of the two guys for the next two months, I also stopped going out to parties and did not sleep with anyone else after that night. I felt dirty, felt like I had betrayed the societal morals, I felt sick, I cried so much during that period and kept praying. I just started being a spiritual person because at the time God was the only one, I could talk to.”
She’s crossed her arms, while moving her hands up and down like she was cold, her eyes were getting watery and bigger. I did not know to react, I held her hand, probably shouldn´t have, they were soft like a baby´s bum.
My head: ask her which lotion she uses, muulize kama ameshawai lima shamba, focus. Focus!
“Well, I felt like I had betrayed my morals, all my mother taught me, all that I had learnt in the church. For some strange reason, God felt more present to me at that time. I became so drawn to the church and reading. I would read three motivational books in a week, I changed and as I changed, so did my body, I realised the second month that I was pregnant. I crumbled for about a week after that. I blamed it on God for not forgiving me just this one freekick, after all he performed miracles. The two one-night stand men were also not picking up, when I realised, I was pregnant I tried reaching out for help, for maybe an abortion or something with their finances I could afford the best care. I couldn´t tell my parents, only my sister knew, she found the pregnancy kit in the trash.
I swore her to secrecy, eventually I got out of the funk, I loved the baby, got myself a part-time assistant job, I was growing, getting ready to raise this new born with no daddy. I would often get lost wondering what people would say when they knew I did not know the father. I gave bath at home in Eldoret where my parents work, the first thing my mom said when she saw the doctor hold my baby was ….
Kwani ni mzungu?(is he white?)
I had not told anyone that the father was Indian, I guess I just hoped that it would turn out my colour. See all this melanin, this child is lighter than that light skin man.”She pointed at a well-groomed guy reading Becoming by the window.
“Everyone came to see my Indian baby, the Doctor´s child went ahead and had premarital sex with an Indian, then he dumped her, that was the village talk. I would see it in their eyes as they touched his face and asked where the father was.
I left home a month later, as soon as my parents saw that my stitches from CS were healing, they flew me off to Nairobi. I lived with my sister as I struggled through school, job and the day cares, eventually I got this nanny who stayed for two years, she was older, I gave her the respect she needed and she raised my baby when I needed to work.
“Let me tell you something, there is nothing that will ever get you out of bed faster, than you thinking you baby might starve. Being a mother instils this sense of responsibility in you, and not having a partner around just pushes you to work even harder, at least that is what happened to me. I become like a new and improved version of myself, I just think this was my reward from God, oh! let me not start talking about motherhood because it’s the best thing that happened to me,” she says smiling.
Her tears are gone with the wind, there is no trace of sorrow, just pure Joy, this is the moment I love writing about the most, the silver lining.
“I used to take my child to Aghakan in Westlands, so we would jav all the way, imagine. I remember people in the matatu`s giving me side looks and I would imagine, here goes the judgment, this young girl, with her Indian baby, one day, a lady flat out asked me, kwani mhindi hana gari, she laughed it off like a joke as if it was an obvious thought. It was.
Anyway, I got used to the side glances, the comments, I would just laugh and move on, no respond. I met my husband in Aghakan, he was my baby´s doctor. When I first visited, I remember him asking if the baby’s dad would be joining us.
“Not every baby has a dad,” I lushed out. I know it was rude but what answer do you expect from a tired mother struggling to hold things together.
We grew as friends, I would always call him at weird hours telling him my baby has a weird rash, or fever, only once was it a real thing, new mom struggles;” Carol adds.
“He started driving us home so that we would not jav, we never dated. He just asked me to marry him after two years and uncountable vaccinations, him driving us home and millions of hours spent on the phone. I said yes, I said yes because he got my baby a car seat after six months of meeting him. I remember opening his car, asking why he had a car seat and him responding that it was for his patients like me. I knew then that he was the one, he loved my baby, I loved him, I still do by the way. He knows my history and accepts me, we got married after we had our second baby, he is now two…. Ramia is 5 now. You should see us walk together, the three very dark people with an Indian child.
This one time we were shopping in Westgate, an Indian woman came up to us at the counter and asked if the baby had lost its parents. She even offered to help find them.”
“No, he´s ours, we gave birth to him,” I said quietly as we walked away. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes people get away with their past, their clean slate, but I have my one night stands in the form of a blessing and yet again a reminder of who I was. I learned to forgive myself and let it go, that even as neighbours call us, the luo couple with the Indian kid, we have learned to embrace it. I have learnt that kids grow to become what you mould them. My baby is more like my husband and I than like Amar or the other one.
I know that the questions will soon come, he´s still in that age where he screams and walks around naked, but when he´ll become aware that he is different, he will ask. I have prayed and rehearsed for that moment ever since I accepted to have the baby. But I´m still not ready for it. I will be, at that moment when it comes, at least I hope so right?” she looks at me her eyes filled with worry.
I smile back at her,” I´m happy for you I really am, I think you are doing an amazing job as a mother.”
She smiles back. Confident that she is.
“So, what do you do now?” I ask.
“I work, everybody does, right?” she says.
“No, I mean, what do you do to cope with everything in your dynamic life.”
“My husband and I went to therapy before I gave birth to our second baby, we talked over so many things, therapy is important, because the outside voices had already started affecting us. But now we are good, in love, I have found some Indian friends for my child, he goes to a racial diverse school. Its not cheap, but that is the life I want for him, I want him to have a different perspective of life, not to get shocked like I did when I landed in USIU.
I am that black woman who sits with the Indian mom´s and ask them about their culture, scored two Indian friends, I know it sounds crazy. I just want my child to be aware of his other side, I do not want him to think he is weird or any different. He is happy that´s all that matters, but I think we have a long way to go, but isn´t that life,” she says, she is now playing with her two rings, her lemonade is over.
“I pray a lot too, I´ve shared my story in church and now I get invited to talk to young girls in school about safe sex, ironic. But what I went through left me hurt, I had to keep my legs closed for more than two years, waiting for my right man, I do not tell them to wait till marriage like my mother did. I tell them to make sure they protect themselves. I tell them sex is a responsibility, the moment you start making out, you should think, can I have a kid with this person if the condom burst. But I also tell them to enjoy sex with their partners if they are ready or you with themselves like I did in the closet. Some people frown at my message, but if the condom had burst with my husband, I wouldn´t be here telling you this story, life is just not black and white.
Last thing is that, I have a great support system, little bit of advice, have three or four friends you can trust and share, this is just an essential for me, my friends have carried me through a lot.
Can I be one of them, I want to ask, but c´mon I have to be professional, and look like I have everything figured out.
My mind: Ask her if she can be your mentor, ask her if you can be friends, Wacha ujinga she is a sophisticated woman with no time.
“Yeah friends are nice,” I say half smiling.
“I have to go pick up my babies from my sister’s, it was nice talking to you, she says smiling, send me the story before you post it. She slips Joyce a thousand as she leaves.
My mind. Yeees, she paid, I cried a little inside, I should have ordered a burger.
I told you she is an angel.
Do have yourself a lovely week ahead. DM me @dodunims.com if you have a story to share. Thanks for reading.