Sabina Joy. | Bikozulu

Sabina Joy.

Sabina Joy

This piece was first informed by a slight altercation then spurred by bravado. A friend told me that I’m a “middle-class sympathiser” masquerading behind my yellowish rants as a way of “validating and lauding” the middle-class idiosyncrasies and that I should consider my modus operandi and “stop representing” the farce that this dated landscape has become.

Bullshit, I spat, I don’t representing anyone, and I only write about the middle-class because they are sitting ducks. “Sadly, you have become what you write,” she egged on, “and one day, when this middle-class skin has grown old, you will be left un-reinvented and stewing in your own reservoir of inoperable words.”

I asked her, “are you here to knock my head against a wall or is this going anywhere other than badly?”

“Get out of that shell, Biko.”

“By doing what?”

“Leave what you know. Go to the unknown,”

“Unknown? Like where this conversation is headed?”

“Close. Why don’t you one day show that you have the cajones to write about something challenging?”

“I actually like that.”

“What, the idea?”

“No, cajones. People don’t use that word enough.”

Stony silence.

“OK, fine. What do you want me to write about that you imagine will get me out of my comfort zone?” I inquired.

“Write about Sabina Joy.”

Enter stage left, Wanjohi Githae. Reporter with The People newspaper. He hails from Kerugoya Town and attended Kaitheri Primary School. By the way when some Kuyus tell you a name of a school they attended you always imagine they are pulling your leg because the names sound like a traditional herb: Riamukurwe Sec School, Ithekahuno Sec School, Gathuki Mundu Pri School (meaning: shake up a guy), Kianguenyi Sec School, Kangubiri Sec School, Kiangoma Sec. School (meaning: the devil’s), Muthuani Sec School…It goes on and on like a horror movie credit.

You meet someone who attended one of these schools and you want to reach out and hug them. Hug them and tell them, “it’s all right, you are here now, you are here, that’s all that matters.”

I met Wanjohi in 2010 during some KTB media trip where we scored the country from Laikipia to Tsavo. Fun times. On our last stop at Shompole Lodge (now defunct), a top-of-the-range resort clinging on the edge of Nguruman escarpment and charging about 50K per person per night for a view and a bed, we shared a large condo which had two monstrous four post beds, a private pool, no windows or walls facing the escarpment and a view so stunning it looked like a prank.

Anyway, this morning I stir awake because the room is suddenly awash with orange as the sun is rising. From my bed I could see the sunrise without leaving it and as I lie there half-asleep, I see Wanjohi walking across the room, heading to the loo. He’s naked. Buck-naked. I’m stunned. Not stunned at his nakedness but at the fact. But he’s nonchalant, shuffling across yawning and scratching his back. That’s how life is; you wake up hoping to see the glorious sunset instead you get your sun blocked by a naked man. And you dare complain about traffic? If that were Nyanza it would have been a different story, because the only folk who walk naked at dawn are night-runners. Wanjohi, unbeknownst to him, has that recessive night-running gene.

I called him last week and told him, “Boss, how about you take me to Sabina Joy, I want to check it out. Two hours tops. I’m buying.” He was confused but agreed.

You might know Sabina Joy as Karumaindo. It’s legendary, a mythological train that tirelessly keeps chugging and coughing decades of lustful notoriety. Karumaindo has been there since God was a teenager. It’s ideally a whorehouse, but if you are of the more decent disposition you will call it a bar. Everybody who has been in this town longer than a week has, at least, heard one urban lore about Karumaindo. It’s revered for its licentiousness; it’s total lack of sympathy to the naïve or the urban-virgins. Depending on whom you ask, it’s the den of thieves and the spot in town where Jezebel hangs her bra. Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi. Although you might be with people you are always alone at Karumaindo because the quest for the pleasures of the flesh is a journey pursued alone.

And I was dying to see it for myself.

So 8pm last Friday. I leave my wallet, phone and watch in the car, not because I’m a wuss but because…OK, because I’m a wuss. I meet up with Wanjohi and together we walk down Kimathi Street, cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton and past the statue of Tom Mboya that stands forlornly in the dark pointing towards statehouse and in the process turning into a pitiful emblem of the Luo’s reiterated inability to rise to the big seat. Wanjohi reads me the riot act: don’t order anything that can’t be opened before you, so no whisky, or brandy; don’t leave your drink unattended; always keep your eye on the drink; minimise bathroom breaks; don’t use a glass; stay close; don’t get drunk; don’t touch any chic.

“What if she touches me first?” I wonder.

We stroll past National Archive, past hawkers and street bums and vagabonds and the evening crowd rushing home with the weight of the day slung over their shoulders. We pass that square before Ambassador Hotel, where all the suited Luos carrying folded newspapers (The Standard mostly) hurdle in circles talking siasa animatedly. You will not find a more boisterous and dedicated political panel of analysts South of Limpopo.

Sabina Joy doesn’t announce herself because Sabina Joy doesn’t need to announce herself. That’s how cocky Sabina is – whoever she was/is. One moment you are walking past the smorgasbord of heaving commerce at the Ambassador stage and the next the entrance is upon you. Only a small dusty Tusker shingle above directs you in.

Once you cross this threshold you have crossed the Rubicon. Now you are in a rabbit hole. (A bit of pun, of course). You walk up a tunnel-like winding staircase, following the thudding sound of the muffled music above. You walk up this tunnel of debauchery with other men, trudging up determinedly and with all that unbridled hope of those led by their crotches.

On the second floor there is a security guy with rheumy eyes the colour of strong tea, patting us down, groping our pockets and impatiently waving us in. We are patted by about four different security guys. Then we walk down this corridor with flashing gaudy disco lights. There are girls writhing around in what in this part of town passes for sexy. Fat girls, slim girls, light girls, dark girls, pretty girls, girls with faces only a mother can love, girls with faces that can fit at Brew Bistro, girls in heels and girls in sandals, girls

with long weave, bald girls, girls with talons for toes, dusty-footed girls, red eyed girls, girls with red lips, smiling girls, scowling girls, girls with teeth from Nakuru, girls with breasts that can asphyxiate you, girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them. They all have one thing in common; they are here for you. At a price.

Karumaindo comes as a sinking disappointment when we walk into the bar. Based on the stories I heard, I pictured a dysfunctional, treacherous and extremely seedy joint. I pictured something smoky with patrons all wearing those Kikuyu hats and tapping their pointed-toed boots to Mugithi songs that Wanjohi was to translate. I expected everybody in there to wear loose pleather leather jackets and big golden chains around their necks. In my head, the common word spoken there was going to be cigana?

Instead it isn’t; it’s seedy all right but you don’t get the feeling that danger lurks around. And there isn’t anybody wearing pleather jackets or pointed-toed boots. I’m crushed.

The sitting area is T-shaped. Tables are wedged close to each other with men slumped in them sipping their beers. There are TV screens all over, showing National Geographic, of all the things for crying out loud. The men raptly watch a scene of male Gazelles locking horns. There are old posters on the wall, some still proclaiming Lil Kim as the hottest star. How old is Kim now, 60? Fans whiz overhead. At the end of the room is a cage from where the deejay peeks like a caged psychopath. That cage for some reason reminds me of Hannibal Lector. Sabina Joy is packed. And it smells. Not a foul smell, but this smell of blue-collar struggle.

I order two beers. Wanjohi’s Pilsner comes in this titanic bottle that the size of a rocket launcher. I’m curious to see how he will lift it to his mouth alone. We drink. Girls parade by sipping from plastic bottles. Dodgy looking men pretend to ignore them, like they just came here to watch National Geographic then they will be on their way. Soul music blares from the speakers hanging overhead as 80’s disco lights flash about.

A guy selling boiled eggs stops by our table. We shake our heads, he moves along. Guy selling Kenyan porn next stops by. Again we shake our heads, he moves on. This girl with very dark elbows walks by eyeing us. We shake our heads…at her elbows. We drink and make small talk. My beer is warm; I might as well order a boiled egg to go with it.

At 10pm, I call this girl. You know how Tony Soprano used to call those strippers over? It’s very chauvinistic. It has to be chauvinistic, that’s the only way it can work. But it won’t work at Mercury. It works here because here is ideally a cave and we are all cavemen and the year is, well, what year was Lil Kim a hot commodity?

This girl I summoned wedges between Wanjohi and I and offers me a smile that is supposed to make me imagine that she is shy. Well, she’s as shy as a wolf. She’s light with a decent face but a body that contests that decency; large belly a flat bum, small legs and a tyre around her just in case El Nino rocks up unannounced. You guys, I believe, fondly refer to it as a “Kikuyu body”. Let’s not get emotional. Priss.

She tells me her name is Samantha. No matter, at Karumaindo names mean squat. I tell her I’m Musa.
I offer to buy her beer, she orders for canned Pilsner, which I pop open for her and she raises it up and we knock up in cheers like decent folk. Samantha has this red tattoo of a Playboy bunny on her right breast. Yes, I was looking. They were in my face, OK? What did you want me to look at instead, the Gazelle’s locking horns? I ask her what the tattoo is and she (I swear) holds the whole poor breast up (jeez Samantha, I forgot to mention I like my tea black) and asks, “Hii? Hii ni Playboy, I am a Playgirl.”

“No, you are a bunny,” I correct her.

“Hapana, mimi ni Playgirl,” she insists and I’m not in the mood to debate. Playgirl it is. Samantha is sort of funny. Wanjohi had warned me not to ask questions that would get us stabbed, so I struggled to keep it light and nonchalant. I’ve always wanted to interview a hooker. Or a Madame. Can you imagine the kind of male insecurity stories these women harbour in them? I say insecurity because I think – and I might be right- for you to pay for sex directly (not by buying Pinot noir at Level 8) is a sign of insecurity. For now Samantha will do even though my hands are tied behind my back because Wanjohi is listening.

But I needn’t to because she’s a talker. She tells me that she doesn’t service light older men because she never knew her father and her mother wasn’t sure who her father was and she telling her he was either a Kikuyu one or an Ethiopian.

She laughs a lot and when she does she sort of rams her body playfully into my shoulder, like we grew up together and shit.

The guy selling boiled eggs stops by again and looks at me in case I’ve had a change of heart. I shake my head. He looks over at Samantha who asks me if I want an egg. Well, not the one he is selling, I tell her in Kiswahili and it, unsurprisingly, flies right over her weave.

At some point she removes my hat from my head and asks if I wear hats. I tell her all the damn time. She asks why? I tell her to look tough. Don’t I look tough? She puts it back on my head and takes a good look at me and says no. She asks if she can keep it. I tell her she can if she lets me keep her Playboy bunny. She laughs and rams her shoulder into mine. Then without warning she gets right to it and asks, “sasa itakuwa Kanu ama?”

Kanu? Like Moi Kanu? I’m confused, is this a political parties recruitment drive? I ask her what that is and she laughs and says “Uko na utoto!” I swear to her that I don’t know what she means. She then wags her finger in that Kanu fashion (tingisha kidole fame) and looks at me naughtily. I still don’t get it. Then she wags it again, then I get it and laugh. You get it, too, don’t you? Wagging finger? You get it now? Alama ya jogoo? Anyone?

Sigh. She means sex and her finger is supposed to represent a phallus. These girls are creative.

I ask her how much. She says five hundred. I snort and tell her she is out of her mind, I aint paying 500bob, not with that belly on you, baby! OK, that last bit I think to myself. She says that’s the going rate. I talk her down to 300bob just to test my negotiation skills, or her desperation level. She tells me there are rooms on the same floor that go for 200bob for 20mins. There, she says, you are timed, which I gather means no foreplay or asking stupid questions like “how was your day today?” I ask her to come get me in 45mins that I need to discuss business with my pal first. She leaves obediently. Wanjohi and I sneak out 20mins later.

After all I heard Sabina Joy didn’t make look at life different or give me any unique insight into humanity or the trade of flesh. It didn’t illuminate me or the people I saw. It didn’t bubble to the surface my sense of morality. I didn’t find it gritty or profound or humbling in its decadence. Actually it disappointed me. Cheated me. Raised my hope then dashed it. Maybe it’s because I’m jaded by such novelty. Or maybe it’s the first impression I got when we walked in; that image of grown men watching gazelle’s lock horns on National Geographic. Has foreplay sunk to such lows?

[Photo credit: Agence VU']

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111 thoughts on “Sabina Joy.”

  1. Rono says:

    Brilliant piece as ever, still doesn’t beat the Sailors one though

  2. Muthoni says:

    Bikozulu is back.You have made my afternoon. High five your friend.Karumaindo has been there since God was a teenager, Jezebel hangs her bra at Karumaindo, girls with faces only a mother can love..eh Biko Cigana…really stood out

  3. Isz says:

    goodness….with a face only a mother can love….awesome writing. and yes, got the same feeling when i visited the place, Like watching Man U draw with Cardiff….such an anti climax.

  4. nyankash says:

    very insightful. was there once and my expectations were dazed

  5. Karimi says:

    Chuckle!

  6. Kim (@2FingersKenya) says:

    Last and most important rule of that place & Florida’s ‘leave no man behind’.

    Even if the guy insists you get him out of the door, then you have done all you can, he can return of his own volition on his own.

  7. Turkish Fish Baiter says:

    Nice piece……Sabina….The only place where you spend more time watching and holding your drink more than anything else. But please Biko,watch your grammar..

  8. MDM says:

    If it was Noah’s time Samantha wouldn’t have worried that she wasn’t in the ark..hehe..funny piece man

  9. Magunga says:

    Kaitheri Primary School- that school wouldn’t survive in Luo Nyanza..

  10. gitts says:

    Great piece, now I know where to catch natgeo ! :-)

  11. mulwa j says:

    I ask her what the tattoo is and
    she (I swear) holds the whole poor breast up
    (jeez Samantha, I forgot to mention I like my
    tea black…. Funniest Ish I have ever read!!!

  12. SKS says:

    “At some point she removes my hat from my head and asks if I wear hats” Did she really? Jezebel hangs her bra at Karumaindo :-)

  13. driva tuktuk mtukutu! says:

    Yeah Biko.Foreplay has sunk that low…and such is life in our times.. You’re a wordsmith boy!Ati Karumaindo has been there since God was a teenager! he he..

  14. pundi says:

    Great!

  15. holomisa says:

    Many years ago as students we visited Karumaindo. One of the guys prepositioned to one of the hookers for sex. The hooker asked : how much do you have? The guy : sina chochote. the Hooker: and how dare you get a hard-on? ( well she said in Kikuyu: Na ugokia?).

    • Gamal says:

      The hooker asked : how much do you have? The guy : sina chochote. the Hooker: and how dare you get a hard-on? ( well she said in Kikuyu: Na ugokia?).- Dead!!

    • ndiransh says:

      #holomisa. I preposition people all the time. I prepositioned the waitress who served my lunch 2 hours ago. I told her to place the chapo beside the plate of ndengu. Then I prepositioned my boss when he asked where the report was. It was on his desk!!!!! and I’ll definitely preposition my sister when I see her later. She always asks where the remote is and it’s always on the bookshelf. Always!!!!!

  16. Project 44 says:

    Hilarious and witty as usual!

    That ‘defuncteness’ of Shompole is sad but we accepted and moved on….

    Re the names of the schools, a drive along the Eastern bypass will make you feel sorry for the children attending some of the schools there…Mihang’o Primary School, etc

    http://project44eveandadam.wordpress.com/2013/11/04/tell-them/

  17. September says:

    Biko a pal of mine says you should come meet Kikuyu chics from Kabete n maybe you will adjust that description of a Kikuyu body….i loved the piece though…humor all over

  18. Mutonyi says:

    Went there when I was in cole we used to call it Hall 14 HA! I disliked it coz i aint the kind of guy who buys what I can get for free [or so I think].

  19. Thesalimkip says:

    Amazing piece…lost for words…

  20. Walubengo says:

    ….”I meet up with Wanjohi and together we walk down Kimathi Street, cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton and past the statue of Tom Mboya that stands forlornly in the dark pointing towards statehouse…” Uhuru Highway at Hilton? You need to know that side of Nairobi dude. Awesome piece as always.

  21. Sylvia says:

    Interesting ,totally enjoyed it!! Faces only a mother can love,girls with teeth from Nakuru……mean!! :)

  22. Stuart Ominja says:

    Beautiful Piece. Biko, where did you go to school? I bet 90% of boys who went to high school in Nairobi or any male student who went University of Nairobi (especially upto late 90s) has spent considerable amount of time in SJ.

    I spend a good time there. My 4 friends had girlfriends. What you may not know is also SJ girls move to other joints later at night. We would pass by SJ early in the evening, then go to the “nicer” joint and find the same hookers at the same time.

    Anyway, the legend is the last time Sabina was closed was during 1982 coup! And it’s one of the highest beer selling bars in Nairobi, only second to Simmers!

  23. Kym says:

    Don’t get the disappointed ending or the moral ambivalence……SJ is gritty and profound…..because of Gazelles locking horns….

  24. Ciku Kimani says:

    As usual, totally entertained! But you should have paid her something for her trouble… She did teach you a few things!

  25. zack says:

    Nice piece, man, you should write a novel

  26. GVNR says:

    Nice one. Not sure I understand the South of Limpopo part… are you not referencing its location to Kenya?

  27. Joe Mugendi says:

    Biko, did you visit the urinal in that place? The whores along the corridor are bold! The last time my friend lured me there, i walked along the corridor to the urinal. One of the whores sensed my ‘virginity’ regarding this place. She grabbed my crotch (almost exactly like michael jackson used to do it), then smiling brazenly said “Twende shot!”. I froze, gave her a murderous look, and disappeared down that winding staircase. My friend laughs at me to this day. Heck, the hooker laughed too. I ain’t going there ever again

    • General Zod says:

      Joe, Michael Jackson used to grab your crotch?

    • Joe Mugendi says:

      @General Zod
      If you used to watch MJs electrifying performances, then you would noticed that he had a thing for his crotch. Imagine some hooker doing that on you as if she has just dropped her purse in your boxers! You too will do something to save your lineage….sorry,balls.

  28. Odysseus says:

    Did my rounds there on Friday…..thought i imagined sporting a ‘brainy’ head huddled in some corner!! That was You!!

  29. Joe Mugendi says:

    foreplay has sunk to such lows that potential clients watch gazelles lock horns on Nat. Geo before they procure some human flesh! haha Biko you nailed it with this sad observation.
    Students are the people to find in such places most of the times. Check out a similar story here
    http://joemugendi.blogspot.com/2013/11/raves-and-storytellers-of-koinange.html#.Up3V2NmqodU

  30. SHIRLEY says:

    ”I snort and tell her she is out of her mind, I aint paying 500bob, not with that belly on you, baby! OK, that last bit I think to myself”
    as usual Biko you never disappoint. Loved this piece.

  31. Irene says:

    Amazing stuff!!!my day has been made! :)

  32. sammy says:

    Biko are you new in Nairobi? You have never gone to SJ? from this sentence you must be new in nairobi “…. we walk down Kimathi Street, cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton” – See more at: http://bikozulu.co.ke/sabina-joy/#sthash.b8hOxhSZ.dpuf

    Uhuru highway is the road passing between parliament and uhuru park

  33. Shiko-Msa says:

    Ithe Kahuno, Kiangoma and Gathuki Mundu – These schools are all close to my home in shags. That Riamukurwe can’t be too far either seeing that I’m from Mukurwe-ini. Thumbs up to my village naming system :-D

    Gathuki is a a tree stump. Gathuki mundu is a tree stump that looks like a human being.

    Kiangoma Secondary has since changed its name to Mukurwe-ini Boys High.

  34. alibaba says:

    Sabina Joy AKA karumaindo.

    did wanjohi tell you what karumaindo means?

  35. mlefu says:

    Ha..

    one word comment.

  36. abg says:

    “it’s revered for its licentiousness; it’s total lack of sympathy to the naïve or the urban-virgins. Depending on whom you ask, it’s the den of thieves and the spot in town where Jezebel hangs her bra. Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi.”

    “/

  37. Andrew Apudo says:

    North or South of Limpopo ?! he he

  38. Willy says:

    Brilliant humorous piece; got me laughing all through. Your descriptive writing is next to no other.

  39. Mike says:

    “girls with teeth from Nakuru, girls with breasts that can asphyxiate you, girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them…. Sawa Boss, you totally killed it yet again!

  40. Chiconthrift says:

    Great as always, saw the title and was excited finally! An anti climax I must say, national geographic????

    http://www.chic-on-thrift.blogspot.com

    • Edward Olumola says:

      You write very well…you remind me of George Ogutu – NMG.
      Well, thank you for the interview today. The Tourism industry is struggling but we can all do something, great work at Travel Africa!

  41. jyoki says:

    You cracked me open.Your description of kikuyus,loool.N be advised Samantha’s body is two in every kikuyus.
    Awesome post!

  42. Jacob Aliet says:

    As usual, nice one. Some nitpics (sorry if they have already been pointed out):

    Not scored but scoured.
    You cant “cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton” because Hilton is far from Uhuru Highway. I would have suggested Intercon but you mention Tom Mboya’s statue.

  43. Butterscotch says:

    You, Biko, are a very witty man.

  44. Njeri says:

    Lmao. Day made, great piece :D

    Leave our kikuyu bodies out of this 0_o

  45. dex says:

    used to go there while in university.
    I used to have a hoocker friend who understood I didnt have much money.
    She would steal from her clients (pick pocket in the process of caresing) and we would drink the proceeeds

  46. The Reader says:

    this was really funny…especially the “That’s how life is; you wake up hoping to see the glorious sunset instead you get your sun blocked by a naked man. And you dare complain about traffic? – “….made my afternoon..

  47. Miss Belyon says:

    great piece of writing as usual

  48. Kevo says:

    Gudu one

  49. candy says:

    i wonder how u even come up with phases like “where jezebel hangs her bra” and “when God was a teenager” maybe the latter would rattle some religious folks. excellent read,,,i will go to sabina joy and make my own observations

  50. kevin says:

    Dead!!!!

  51. Waringa wa Mugo says:

    This did me in…

    “girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them.”

    You should go back and pay Samantha for her time.. Even 150 shillings will do..

  52. sheilah says:

    Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi
    You guys I believe, fondly refers to it as a ” Kikuyu body”. Let’s not get emotional.Priss

    Always a joy to read your blogs

  53. juddy says:

    A well written piece as always. I have actually gone all the way to your first post. This blog should be printed out as a book….”a face that only a mother can love” “where Jezebel hangs her bra” Cant stop laughing!

  54. @JadeJela says:

    You walk along Kimathi street and cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton????? Am lost!!!!!

  55. Eva (@EvaDiiva) says:

    Great LOL moments from this piece.
    Are women allowed to go to this SJ place? Need to see to believe some things coz eish…

  56. Esquire says:

    That okuyu body is called the Waithera Syndrome…

  57. Shazz says:

    (I forgot to mention I like my tea black).
    Awesome read as always!

  58. Robert says:

    Once again Biko has done it again —- it’s the den of thieves and the spot in town where Jezebel hangs her bra. Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi.

  59. Janet. says:

    Lol…. Mate you have made my day. “You guys, I believe, fondly refer to it as a “Kikuyu body”. Let’s not get emotional. Priss.” Great read!!!!

  60. Eunice says:

    Girls parade by sipping from plastic bottles. Dodgy looking men pretend to ignore them, like they just came here to watch National Geographic then they will be on their way.

    This girl I summoned wedges between Wanjohi and I and offers me a smile that is supposed to make me imagine that she is shy. Well, she’s as shy as a wolf.

    Great piece Biko.

  61. ndiransh says:

    Went there once because that’s what you do if you’re a regular guy who’s spent any reasonable amount of time in Nairobi.

    Went back to confirm what I experienced the first time round. I think it’s the saddest joint in Nairobi.

  62. Jossy says:

    I couldn’t stop laughing . great piece .

  63. Pamela says:

    Great read Biko.where jezebel hangs her brag

  64. Opiyo says:

    another day, another masterpiece.
    although for all your poetic aptitude, am afraid you missed the nuance in that KANU metaphor. if you hang around hos more, you might come to overstand it someday.
    keep em coming though! and write a book please

  65. Rhoda says:

    As always an enchanting blend of wit, humor and more wit :-)

  66. Zanze says:

    When I grow up I want to write just like you. Great story.

    zanzerose.blogspot.com

  67. Neyma says:

    Good piece…

  68. Mtu Flani says:

    Musa, I see you haven’t lost your edge. More than anything, I think people seek your words for the humor. You do it well. Btw, it appears there is now more than one Mtu Flani among the commentators. It’s the only kind of flattery that irritates me. Jesus, you dont have to be very imaginative to create your own monikers people!

  69. Gema says:

    Great piece….can,t stop laughing.

    ” I call this girl. You know how Tony
    Soprano used to call those strippers over? It’s
    very chauvinistic. It has to be chauvinistic, that’s
    the only way it can work. But it won’t work at
    Mercury. It works here because here is ideally a
    cave and we are all cavemen and the year is,
    well, what year was Lil Kim a hot commodity? “

  70. SalsaS88 says:

    Great read Biko. 500 bob?? Unbelievable.

  71. Renee says:

    Eish Biko, the silence on the blog is too loud it deafens!!!!!!

  72. KG says:

    Always a pleasure BIKO!!!

  73. Manyala says:

    This Poem was conceived and born at Karumaindo. Talking Eyes >> http://otiatopali.blogspot.com/2011/09/talking-eyes.html

    And your friend was right, you are lost into the middle class. You never saw any thieves male or female yet they are there plenty plenty. You dint see the seasoned whore, the new whore, the bar man who’s seen it all, the guy who cant buy and therefore ends up wanking at the urinal, the whores at the corridors who drag you by the balls etc. You went in with a closed mind.

  74. Patricia Liébanas says:

    Hello,
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  75. esther says:

    Yes, I was looking. They were in my face, OK? What did you want me to look at instead, the Gazelle’s locking horns?
    Love your sense of humor
    Brilliant!!!!!

  76. Kame says:

    Guys! guys!! I think we left Biko behind in 2013; sprawled out in Sabina joy.. Or maybe he went back for Samantha and got devored by a wolf,,, (the way he kept talking of that bunny…!? Sigh..) Someone please go find him… We miss him here… .

  77. Maish says:

    Interesting read! Now you should attend some political rally or the ‘bei ya unga’ Demo’s and write about it!

    http://www.markmaish.com

  78. Sly says:

    Haha!! Holds the whole poor breast..perhaps that was a form of foreplay.
    This story reminded me of an unexpected encounter I had..

    http://loungersperch.wordpress.com/2013/01/28/the-day-i-said-no-to-a-stripper/

  79. Nkatha says:

    Biko. Get out of that shell!
    Stories we can’t tell with our eyes open.
    We miss you.

  80. danson says:

    Aiiii Biko, please write, anything! Even a haiku will suffice!

  81. Irene says:

    oh Biko, you nailed it !! Got out of your shell and scored a big one!! You made my day, its been a tough week and i had some much needed belly laughs!!!

  82. Banks says:

    Dear Principal Biko

    We, the very obedient students of the high school are wondering where you have been. u see, since we reported this yr, we’ve been wondering if the school closed without our knowledge, or maybe u got transferred by the DEO due to sexual harrassment as has been the fate of other principals et cetra. u see sir, we are lost and delusional without you. Because no one else can tell stories so simple…………

    Regards,
    Concerned Student.

  83. Rackel says:

    KANU…. haahahhahahahaha nice one. just made my day

  84. Eric M says:

    Omera,

    You’ve left me in stitches- I’m still not sure that it ended as you put it. Did you really leave after 20mins? or was it 200mins later? Dude, please this story like it should.

  85. Mwanaa Reginah says:

    Then she wags it again, then I get it and laugh. You get it, too, don’t you? Wagging finger? You get it now? Alama ya jogoo? Anyone? hehehehe, karumaido, gai fafa, u r soo funny

    http://techballl.wordpress.com/

  86. Wambo says:

    That was a trip to Karumaindo and back, Atleast that’s how it felt!

  87. Warui says:

    Nice piece

  88. El Scorpio says:

    Mtwapa is where you need to visit Biko.

  89. great Writing, i love the way you knit your words and expressions together into an amazing story. This reminded of the many trips i made to sabina joy way back then, just to pee…ok, more than peeing….high school was rifw with raunchy stories of sabina joy. lakini uoga nayo?

  90. Masharia Kanyari says:

    this is good, no really- never has the Kuyu female form been described more apropiately; and priss, just so we’re clear I’m kuyu so spare me the lynch mob.

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