By CAROLS ARAP SANG
Kama unajua Haulipi rent Mahali, please Boy Child don't sleep at her place.
Yesterday I went to visit this chiq who stays somewhere in Roysambu. I was told to feel free, feel at home.
And stupidly, I did., in a house of a girl, a house that I don't pay rent.
I went to take a shower and wore a short and a vest.
At about 9pm, the door was knocked and boom, the sponsor was home.
I was confused. I was dejected. And all "my girrlfriend" said was "you are my brother" nothing else.
She opened the door and a strong, well built old man entered the house. They started kissing at the door as they head to the chair.
She introduced me as her brother and the old man was very happy to meet me in what he said I was the first family member he was meeting.
As he was explaining he checked on his waist and removed a gun and put it in the table perhaps it was making him uncomfortable.
I was a true brother that evening. Minutes had become hours. I started sweating like shit.
Because If I could make a mistake, the weapon was an inch away from me. I would be dead and maybe news would say I was a robber.
That night I slept on the couch. I could hear all that was going on at night. As she groaned all night calling her all sweat names. I was hurting but there's nothing I could do.
In the morning as I prepared to leave, the old man asked to take us to a mall to eat those cold chapatis called Pizza. Being a "brother" I was, I obliged. Outside, he had packed a KCM Range Rover machine clean and white in colour. I took the back left seat as my "sister" took the co-driver seat.
We had fun and as I was leaving, the old man gave me ksh. 5,000. I left and went back to my room in Kawangware.
Right now I am hurting. This explains why I am unreachable on my personal phone.
Sitawahi Rudi kwa nyumba silipi rent.
The Kenyan DAILY POST