Part 1: An Unexpected Encounter With a Sugar Daddy

June 19, 2023

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We were done with our morning session, and the afternoon classes had wrapped up, giving us a chance to go home early and finally relax. It had been a long week, and my friends and I, who lived in the same neighborhood, often walked home together. Since it was Friday, we decided to take a leisurely walk, even though it meant a one-and-a-half-hour journey due to the long bridge we had to cross, known as Nyali Bridge. But hey, “tukajijaza sisi angali vijana wenye nguvu” (we were young and energetic).

As we strolled, exchanging ideas and sharing stories, a big, black tinted car suddenly approached and blocked our path. The window rolled down, revealing an old gentleman in his 50s. At first, we were hesitant to engage with him, but curiosity got the better of us, and we decided to listen. He inquired about our destination, and we replied, “Nyali,” even though it was the eastern side, unlike him, who was headed to Nyali West, the affluent residential area.

He then asked if he could give us a lift since we were all heading in the same direction. With a playful tone, he added, “How can beautiful girls be walking under this scorching heat?” Those who live in Mombasa can surely explain the heat that hits its peak between 12 PM to 4 PM—it’s usually so hot that we jokingly say, “imeiva kushinda manzi yako” (hotter than your girlfriend).

With a mix of relief and excitement, we hopped into the car, grateful to save our energy. The atmosphere inside was cool, making the entire journey smooth and comfortable. We chatted away, sharing our names, until we reached the junction where there was a statue symbolizing the distinction between the common citizens and those who held power—”common mwanchi and wenye nchi.”

Just before parting ways, the man asked for our phone numbers, promising to give us a call around 2 PM. And true to his word, at around 4 p.m., I received a call from my friend. She exclaimed, “Leo hatuinami supper” (we’re not skipping dinner today). As campus students, there are days when we have to stick to a tight budget, which means skipping a meal among the three served each day.

I was thrilled but also slightly apprehensive. After all, we had only known this man for less than two hours, and here he was offering us dinner. He shared the location, and we arrived at what I had anticipated to be a hotel or restaurant, but to my surprise, it turned out to be an Airbnb.

Before entering the house, I shared my location with a friend, just in case I vanished like in the Shakahola massacre. The person who opened the door was different from the man who called us. There was a bit of tension, but we decided to enter anyway. The three of us sat on the same couch near the door, just in case anything went awry.

The old gentleman appeared with drinks (alcohol) and offered them to us. Playing it safe, we politely declined, stating that we didn’t consume liquor. He proceeded to prepare food, which was the reason we had agreed to come. We dug in and cleared our plates, enjoying the meal.

By 7 PM, we were still engaged in lively conversation, sipping juice, when my friend reminded me that it was time to go home. We mentioned that we couldn’t afford to be late, especially since one of us still lived with their parents. Surprisingly, these guys remained cool and agreed. We hopped back into the car, and he started driving us home. Along the way, I asked if he could make a quick stop as I needed to buy medication. He kindly obliged, parked the car, and allowed me to make the purchase before continuing our journey.

We arrived home safely, and I was the first to alight at my place while my friends continued their journey. As I prepared to sleep, I reached into my bag for my medication and realized something was missing—the identification card (ID). While searching for it, I received a call from a new number. It was the old man, explaining that he had found my ID on the seat after reaching home. Apparently, it had slipped out when I took out some cash to buy the medication. I inquired when I could retrieve it, and he replied with a proposition—to go on a date with him… “