So last Saturday I was awake for a whole 24 hours. Yes 24. Don’t judge me, thank you. Late in the night at those evil hours of 3am when the devil and all his cousins go out of their way to raid and rein havoc to humans, a group of friends and I checked in to this new, dope and wicked club on this part of the world. To our surprise, we couldn’t get anywhere to park. How so! This is not Nairobi or Nakuru or Kisumu either, where towns wake up at night. This was a small town, about 200 kilometers North of Nairobi and we couldn’t get parking at 3am?
Along the stuffy corridors were sounds of modern music, coupled with ladies who only knew how to dress from top to the waistline and deliberately ‘forgetting’ to dress their way down. Not a surprise by now. Lucky enough we got an awesome sitting area amid the deafening entertainment, and after minutes of jostling, shoving and brushing off acres and more acres of exposed cleavages and thighs along the way though unintended. I had spent a whole 20 hours with my friends hence no much of talking was to happen at this time of the night apart from us using our eyes to rove around and watch fellows getting down while in the process, mingling in the washrooms with young and aged Team Mafisi Sacco busy hunting or forcing their way to the arguably large number of ladies present.
All went well until I watched something very disturbing unfold right where I was. So this mzee in his mid fifties for some hours was salivating on this fine chiq who was clinging on his so drunk boyfriend. Actually, the boyfriend was so dead asleep. Apparently to this chap, he saw an opportunity to literally get away with this lady! How some old men put shame to their age is a non issue at this day and age.
After kindu one hour, the lady decided to visit the washrooms and guess what, this Baba-nani fellow, seemingly highly regarded in his village for his vast wealth and well being and with grandchildren half my age trailed this lady to the washrooms like a dog on heat. He camped there for a whole 3 – 4 minutes and later pretended to have also gone to answer a call of nature by coincidence. This bold mzee would do the unthinkable few minutes later. He blocked the lady from accessing her seat. He erected his tired and pot-bellied body right in front of her way and smiled unashamedly.
While contemplating whether to jump on my feet and give this mzee some electrocuting blows and kicks (if only I could gather that courage) and in essence accept to be the sacrificial lamb and worse still find myself up in the air having been whisked by the bodied bouncers, I took my time to decide whether I was ready to pay the price. Meanwhile, the lady shoved off this wicked and titillated mzee and had her way through. At last, I was relieved. I could hear my heart stop racing.
Here’s my problem. Even after married men illegally raiding our hunting grounds and speeding off with all the beautiful lasses (at least from the outside), they still want to get away with our precious girlfriends whom we have invested time, resources, emotions, unrealistic ambitions (2016 resolutions) and our grandfathers’ inheritances to have them in our lives. Now, this can be scary. If it will take several guys to escort our ladies to the washrooms just for the mere reason that some married men can’t tame their exploring libido syndrome, is indeed disturbing.
I simply cannot make sense of this. Can you imagine you dad salivating over a lady, a third his age at a club frequented by the youthful generation, at 4:05 am. This brings me to another point. I have serious beef with men in their mid-fifties and above patronizing entertainment joints where their nephews and nieces check in. Come-on you damn wazees. How do you dance to Wiz Khalifa’s rugged lyrics or Justin Bieber’s latest mellow album at 5am in a place where you naturally look like a headmaster? Give us a break please and get a life. And if you have to frequent these clubs, at least don’t ‘cattle-rust’ our girlfriends. It’s all we can claim to have.
In any case men the age of 55 and beyond choose to visit clubs that play less noisy music or makuti villas somewhere in Umoja Innercore that play great Rhumba music or pride to host a One-Man-Guitar (Miku Rua wannabe). At least not Club Tribeka or Mojo’s of this world. Moreover for the well-oiled, moneywise, imbibe in serene and ‘peaceful’ places like members-only clubs where men in their 50’s and 60’s meet after a weekend of golf or ‘site seeing’ of new projects somewhere in Kitui or Laikipia. They are not to be found in dimly lit clubs where patrons can’t even have a simple conversation due to the loud music.
Being a big fan of Kaka Sungura, I’m just thinking in his popular song dubbed Promised Land featuring Amos and Josh, he should have sneaked a sentence or two going like;
Kidole cha kati kwa wazee wanao mezea wasichana wetu; kidole cha kati kwa akina Baba-nani wanao fanya mapenzi na wasichana rika ya wajukuu wao…..
Merry Christmas dear readers. Don’t over indulge. Be a blessing to the less fortunate people around you and while at it, dare to be a blessing to your family and friends and not a bother.
Frohe Weihnachten und ein glückliches neues Jahr (Merry christmas and Happy new year).