a weekly LEAK – nyuma ya gari

a weekly LEsson from A Kenyan gal – nyuma ya gari

There’s this hot chick I know…

I first saw her at the republic a couple of years back. Heh, all heads would to turn when she’d walk in. Dress so tight on her it looked like well applied Robbialac paint (Rooobbbiiialllac, the better painttttt, rooobiiiaalac the better paintttt) *cough cough – youll forgive me, I got a bit carried away there…*

Anyway, so I’d look at her each time with an increase in desire, a decrease in the patience to wait another day to *jump on her/conshume her/lay a solid poundation* Then as suddenly as she had appeared on the rave scene she disappeared. I never paid it much notice until she reappeared a year later and her prior absence became apparent, you get? So she rocks up at Safari7s and I look and immediately feel a stirring in my yahoo dot com. She actually smiles and I smile back. She comes and hugs me tighter than an Inspekta Mwala vest on Papa Shirandula’s torso and plants a wet one smack bang on my lips oooh lala… Sadly, I’m meant to be meeting one of my bambas, so when she asks me who I’m there with I tell her I’m meeting someone. She sneers and prances off those ones of ‘u can’t be seriously turning down all of this’

Days come and days go, no sign of her until one night I’m at Club Click for reggae. I’m doing my thing on the pool table sorting out all and sundry when who saunters up to the table? None other than InyoraFM… Heh, what’s it about this chick and my yahoo? I feel glad that my heavy pair of jeans provides protective camouflage to the cable my lower torso is threatening to leak…

She sees me and scurries towards me with the quickness of a twaddict opening a twitter application. She is on me like brown on brown rice and I decide that the d-day is nigh… unfortunately its her birthday so shots are coming her way with the speed and frequency of big words in PLO’s speeches. I decide its better to fight the good fight on another day and settle for the digits… Next day I call her up and give her the usual ambapoooo. I’m at the republic later that day so since she’s free and easy, I tell her to pass by. Hmmm, duRama with a capital R… She rocks up and is all over the place. I assess situation and see things will not end well unless we are gone in sixty seconds… I make an excuse for us to bounce and amidst a few protests we exit the venue… then… shock on me… she declares the need to visit the ladies… behind my car… auuuuwuuuu…

Chicka operates like a sprinter about to take to the starting blocks: walks up and down getting focus and into the zone. Sets sights on the target and wiggles chin and neck like an Asian in a dance video. Squats, places fingers on tarmac and *whoop* one leg up in the air before being planted on ground, *whoop* second leg up in the air before being planted down, On your marks, get set… Wuuuwi….

There’s this really hot chick I know…