Some of you young Guys tend to think ati ukunguru ni tabia imeanza juzi with the proliferation of mobile phones, cheap internet, chochio media sites, and unprecedented male thirst. That view couldn’t be more inaccurate. One of the main reason we have seasoned kungurus today, is because certain traits have been passed down generations, and with that practices and other norms that perpetuate the behavior.
Now let me tell you about Emily.
Back when I was growing up, in the hood that I lived, in our house, we had this habit of hanging out in the upstairs bedroom during the evenings when the grownups occupied the living room, being authoritarian and acting all grown up. Typically we’d turn the lights out (the maid occasionally joined us), and do childish stuff, discuss childish things, listen to the radio and while time away till bedtime arrived.
Since the lights were almost always off, one of the benefits we enjoyed was the occasional uninterrupted views of mischief going on in the neighborhood. Nobody could see us but we could see them. The view outside the window became our “movie night” that adults couldn’t censor like they did the TV, because they weren’t present.
I remember there was this chic that lived in an SQ opposite our house, who worked for a major airline as a stewardess. Very young, beautiful, well endowed, completely irresistible and especially tempting when she had uniform and stockings on. The area outside her compound was a beehive of activity, with thirsty males buzzing in and out almost on a daily basis, aspiring to dip their fingers in that beehive soaking with wild raw honey. They were cut from all social classes, but ironically and maybe even interestingly many of the dudes who were ostentatious, more often than not returned from whence they came frustrated.
Nakumbuka kuna time a middle-age dude showed up with a very serious Benz that looked like a pullman, impeccably dressed, class oozing in his personality, anyone could tell he was a man of means; I remember this particular visit deviated from the norm, as it happened over the weekend, in daylight, in full view of estate inhabitants.
Huyo jamaa camped outside that crib like a Matatu ya Emba yenye imeingia kwa shimo pale Accra Road. In the end him and his ilk more often than not waliambulia patupu. I think most guys here know what it means when such well-off men who typically have many options are so insistent. You connect the dots.
On the flip side, on certain nights the sly kunguru would very surreptitiously usher in dudes who came on foot; dudes that looked like they didn’t have a penny to their name. Those dudes, it seems had a throughpass into Emily’s crib…..and probably even her entrails. And the way she did it, the way she juggled the desperate seekers of the honeypot, over many days, weeks, months left no doubt she was a master seductress, a wily manipulator, a schemer, a woman who undoubtedly descended from a long line of many others like her.
She eventually moved out, I guess when her prime days began to run out, and one of the more affluent guys wifed her and believed that aliangukia “Mali” ya maana; but she unknowingly served us a life-long lesson (at the time we didn’t really know it, being quite young and all) about the nasty, cut-throat, unforgiving nature of the games played in the arena of sexual relationships. A lesson about the finickyness of this other gender, or is it sex?
Majamaa let me say this, I’m not a good writer like Tauren and smitten at the old Kenyatalk, so I didn’t quite bring the tale to life like I should have, lakini just know that you guys can never be playas like women. Always remember that. No matter what kind of relationship you’re in always keep your eyes wide open. That goes double in today’s world. Make sure your bases are covered at all times.
Tumechoka kuona vijana wakitenda vitendo vya kiunyama in the news. In the last couple of years I can count no less than five young men, who’ve cut their lives short because of biting more than they could chew.
