SponsereeI have read and observed the talk about ladies who cohabit with married men, stared as opinions took sharp meanders across social media, survived the hammers and tongs thrown from both divides, dozed off the lectures on why we shouldn’t judge them and finally wept. Yes, I wept in my soul after reading lengthy articles and watching media personalities try to justify society vices, listened in disgrace the vague arguments about why we should mind our business and hid from jabs propelled by extreme feminists. (Note feminists can be both female & male).

For the record, I will judge every lady I spot pretending to be harboring some love with a man twice her age. Equally, I will judge that man that is eroding our precious daughters/sisters/nieces with evil money and lies and pretense. I will be bitter about him for demolishing a life’s investment. On that note, I’m convinced to have written fairly enough articles about MEN LETTING US DOWN. For avoidance of doubt here is a sample amongst many – Beside Stripping Women , Untamed Desires , Men Who Go Clubbing at 55Why Have Married Men Disenfranchised ‘Single Boys’ , and What Became Of Men .

However, allow me to share my thoughts on the so called sponsoree ladies. I will judge them not on my individual capacity though, but as a representative of the society. The society bestows each one of us with a responsibility to uphold societal values. That shouldn’t be construed to mean I’m all righteous. In any case, I’m nowhere near a saint; however I can’t justify my boggling past mistakes with a selective bible reading attitude. Ideally, we should hold ourselves accountable of course from borrowing society values that should always be our point of reference. But how will we trace these values if all we do is sink in evil and resurface holding placards saying Do Not Judge! 

To you that is sharing a Bible verse on Do not judge, would you mind reading Jude1:7 as well! Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire.

I repeat, Christians should learn to read the bible wholly and not selectively.

You know, humans are the worst hypocrites. They hide under a bible verse that says do not judge and use it as an excuse to exercise debauchery. They hide under a story of the bible that says cast the first stone if you are not a sinner in order to console themselves. Why we will judge these ladies however, is because if we don’t do so, it will be a lose-lose scenario. Come to think of Sodom and Gomorrah and if they judged each other. For argument’s sake, if these people raised uproar over bad behaviors, probably Sodom and Gomorrah would have saved itself from God’s anger. My point is, we cannot preach on DO NOT JUDGE and go ahead sinning left, right and center and consequently watch a society fall apart helplessly just because we were warned of judging. We’d rather judge since somehow some of us will appreciate that we are sinful and therefore repent and reconstruct our lives than publicly saying do not judge only to go ahead and judge secretly.

By the way, we will not judge you because we sin differently or because of what you’ve amassed at such a young age but because as a society, we have a mandate to judge people who give life to evil. But we are not exceptions either! The same sword we judge with should be placed right on us if we do the same. Judging, safeguards values of a society. For truth’s sake we should stop burying our heads in the sand and lie that we do not judge even when we make poetic opinions why we shouldn’t judge.

Humans judge a million and one times every day. It is human nature. It’s in our DNA. That’s how we are wired. Actually, not even OUR OWN SELVES escape from self-criticism. We’d rather make peace with that part of reality and be honest with ourselves. We judge people based on their heights, their careers, how they dress, their characters, type of car they drive, the estate they live in, their type of weave, makeup, spouse, their bodies, their relatives, their failures, their incomes…..damn, we do this every single day. Even when we shout on top of Mt. Everest that DON’T JUDGE, we will fall back to judging the next minute. We will judge with our mouths shut, our eyes closed, our hearts smiling and with every other body part that can do so. No one is an exemption from this human flaw including our lecturers, Pastors/Bishops/Apostles/Prophets/Imams and parents. It’s who we are anyway. We will judge in our dreams, in church, in burial ceremonies, in weddings, in dowry occasions, at birthday parties, in school, when having a family meal, in the office, in the matatu, and virtually everywhere.

That said, I don’t advocate on what one popular blogger C.Nyakundi sometimes writes. Judging shouldn’t be about insults or attacking a certain gender. It should be done within the purveyors of decorum and ethics. We should be mindful of these people as well as their families. Crushing them with insults and unprintable words is not justifiable. However, that shouldn’t mean we remain silent. As representatives of society, we should judge them by telling them what they are doing is ungodly and so wrong. Cross generational sex can only mean one thing; that Judgement Day is not far off.

You see, if we do not make noise about the direction our generation is heading, from tearing apart marriage institutions to openly practising prostitution in whichever form, we will have lost the plot and equally angered God. Not that we are any righteous but because we have a mandate to be responsible Christians who jealously guard societal values. Because, if we do not do so, who will do it?

Worse still, if we don’t judge, we will sit pretty and watch our daughters get lured by money and say; “It shall be well!!!” C’mon??





older-versus-youngerTo some extent I so much envy ladies when it comes to their innovative ways of making extra income. Come to think of how a career as a socialite became acceptable and admirable by legions of ladies. How this career has unashamedly crawled up our knees to pose as a flourishing million dollar industry, right on our noses. Ponder how many Trophy Ladies survive by just holding their sponsors’ arms, smiling at their business partners, booking tickets for holidays, looking pretty, seated next to them when being chauffeured in dark, humongous cars, satisfying their erotic needs and massaging their egos. On the hand, men have no easier ends. It’s getting tougher for us. All we do is stir the shorter end of the stick. It’s time we got our very own Maghufuli at the helm of Maendeleo ya Wanaume. I guy who is super creative and visionary. Maybe we can poach lads who call shots at the enviable Team Subaru fraternity. With that, we will have brought in new blood with machizmo and invigoration to make us think outside the box. I mean, there must be easier ways of making money, surely!

So who is a Trophy Lady? I hope I will be in order to assume ladies who wake up to solely serve this moneyed man, smile 24/7  whenever around him and simply look good and get paid in kind or otherwise for those sort of services, meet the definition. A legal mpango wa kando who has no bones to strain. Think of such a contract. Here’s the thing, this industry is growing in leaps and bounds every single day since men with means are willing to spend on such ladies.

Now, meet this lass;

Call her Anita. A story is told by my friend about how she watched a girl get wasted in a span of 3 years right on her face. Note, WASTED is relative. So how;

One hot afternoon, Anita walked to the office dressing an overwrought face and making some jingling noise from layers of bangles tossed on her slender hands. She had a model-like body. Her hair strolled all the way, dangling the waistline and her pretty, long dress did the honours of flattering her strongholds. She was a beautiful Borana lady, lucky to be educated (No pun intended) and out, hunting for a job. She was holding an A4 envelope, enclosing documents that summarised her background and on that context, had come to seek for employment.

After pensively waiting at the front office area, she was directed to my friend’s boss, had a conversation that dragged for about half an hour and out, she walked. She left her C.V behind and of course her phone number as requested and that was the beginning of her evolution. The boss had fallen for this charming look.  That Anita had come to seek a reception position was a non-issue for now. Three years down the line, that has never seen the light of day. This guy had other plans and so she fell in the subterfuge, predictably.

What followed were a series of sumptuous coffee dates and trips to enviable places for lunch. Her conscience had been compromised. Her naivety gave in to his selfishness.  Having his family live in a distant town, the chicken had come home to roost. Sooner than later, Anita would move to this guy’s digs. Her new lifestyle had tricked her. Her goals in life had now changed. Her J.D was just to satisfy this man, go out for shopping and salon. Life had become so flawless.

Gradually, she was made to believe she was the second wife as long as the genuine wife wouldn’t visit. When the latter popped, she was made to leave for a weekend or so and sort sleep-overs elsewhere. All along the wife had made peace with the fact that this man cheats on her. She had had so many. Her man was so hooked to cheating that it had become normal. In fact, unawares, Anita was one amongst legions of them. Why hers was a special case, was because he caged her. He trapped her future and curved in trajectories that brainwashed her. Meanwhile, for Anita, she forgot about her boyfriend and family. She was in a new lane and the rest didn’t matter.

Slowly, she became aloof and lazy. She started imagining whatever this guy had acquired over the years was equally hers. Overtime she gained so much imaginary power that she could fire a driver or gateman at will. She didn’t even cook or clean the house or at least clear the table after a meal. That was the house servant job. Hers were to watch movies and do plenty of sleeping.

For numerous occasions, the lad relentingly sort jobs for her. But she couldn’t make it past the interview desk. Her laidback attitude robbed her opportunities due to her comfortable lifestyle. Seeking for employment became a forgotten priority. The only skill she acquired after hooking up with this guy, was a mere driving course.

Cleverly, this chap didn’t absorb her in his firm since he was all aware that she would antagonise and crumble down his baby investment within no time. Hers was to accompany this chap when he attended business meetings in Nairobi or Maasai Mara or Coast and sit pretty, wear an infectious smile, cuddle him if need be and be all over him. For a fifty something old guy, dating a lady the age of his daughter somehow does wonders to his testosterone. There is a funny myth among guys that if you sleep with ladies half or less your age, you will remain younger, fresh and vigorous.

From the school of public opinion, this lady was doing very well. Having several cars at her disposal and flying across the country and dressing in clothes shopped in exclusive places. When you compared her to her peers, she was doing very well. (Insert sarcasm). Now, the danger with this generation is; we are too selfish. We are people that have no guilt. We are humans who have no problem with dating married men and women. We are super selfish. As long as this guy lives, this lady will have it all having edged the wife from the scene and serving as the aide de camp of this manner-less chap.

She has no plans to settle down, at least not in the near future or get a kid. Mind you, this guy still cheats on her. (Anita). What’s the point? Live a lavish life meanwhile forsake or mislead your family that you are doing very well in life, edge out a whole family, remain financially dependent on a man, acquire no further skill/education and have nothing that you will ever call yours. But that beside the point, sooner or later this guy will get back to his senses or rather get over her. Funny enough, she once called the office demanding for some money to buy airtime meaning this guy deliberately gives her less than enough chumz for upkeep and not sufficient to save or invest. In other words, she lives at his behest; he can trust her with his raunchy body but not his damn money.

As long as you are dating a married man or woman, yours will be a time bomb and lots of guilt now or later. Nobody is wholly righteous but that’s not an excuse to engage in bringing down families and robbing somebody’s children; a daddy or a mummy.

In the end, Karma is alive and watching from a distance, doing press ups and waiting to pounce!

We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them – Kahlil Gibran



skimpy dressYour life is all about playing hide and seek with STIs. Contraceptive pills are more like your breakfast. You spend few nights and more days in your house. What this means is that nights bring you to life while days are meant to nurse your hangovers. You cannot quantify the millions of litres of alcohol you’ve been bought for by strangers (read married men). Twice or thrice in a week you wake up in a stranger’s digs. Your longest dress manages to only cover your waistline. Your entire bosom in many occasions is barely covered. At times you shave one side of your head as the rest deals with drooping braids. This perhaps depict the confusion galore in your empty life. Virtually everything in your apartment is bought for. (Well, directly or indirectly.) From your humongous plasma tv to your cosy leather seats. Your house breathes extravagance, opulence and the finest of things in life. You drive a beautiful, red in colour, Mazda CX-5 whose engine sound is rarely noticeable. You swap boyfriends like under garments. You salivate over married men like men would do to a good piece of land in the outskirts of the city. You purport to be a socialite kumbe you are nothing but a sophisticated w****.

Your ex boyfriends include your erstwhile lecturers, club bouncers, politicians and their chauffeurs. A night out is never complete without shisha escapades. Here you smoke away your self pity and the injured conscious. Your biggest investment is buying scanty clothes and high heels taller than you. In your bucket list; you crave for this sponsor who’ll fly you to his alluring bungalow , somewhere in the outskirts of Lagos, Nigeria. His mansion will be sandwiched by a thick bamboo forest, and life breathed to it by beautiful bird chirpings. You’ll rest in this spacious restroom as you eyes get lost to this fascinating wilderness in your front view via the glass walls. Pulling duvet in the bourgeois sofas will be your other business, dressed in a bikini and sipping red wine. You’ll take selfies and post them on IG to be smothered by envy from your poor and broke chaps.

Growing up in the late 90’s and early 2000’s, women were the epitome of a dignified life. Ladies, were not to be found in trenches and ditches directly opposite a pub at 7 am. In fact to spot a lady drinking, was a rare thing. They didn’t wear things that just covered their waste lines. Being a virgin was something to be proud of. Fast forward now, everything is upside down. That ladies have crossed the infamous red line is something we have to put up with. Opening up your legs to guys you’ve just met is never a bad idea. The other day a lady on tv who seemed barely 21 was like “If you can make more money in a nightclub (where you go to be pried by men) than in the office, why should you then oscillate in uncomfortable sit, for 8 hours.” It makes sense to make money in things you enjoy doing and activities that are actually like a hobby. So this lady, is paid for appearances in clubs. She is a socialite and proud of it. I wasn’t surprised that her role model is Kim Kardashian who came to the fore out of a sex tape. Arguably, Kim is the mother of all socialites.

As far as I’m concerned, strippers, whores and socialites are one and the same thing. You can easily evolve or slip to the other once in this league. Yes, thou shall not judge! You are about to say. I’m not suggesting am anywhere near righteous. I’m just echoing what lies between my disturbed consciousness. Especially when we try to define socialites as a good career for  teenagers to hold thoughts for. They say all that is needed for the forces of evil to triumph is for enough good men to do nothing. We have every responsibility to protect and uphold values. When you show so much skin, it’s a confirmation that you are crying for validation. You are just but an empty shell. You are equating yourself to a walking sex object. In other words, when tongues wag at you, you feel good about yourself. That’s a problem that so many ladies are struggling with. The whole idea of auctioning your body on Instagram and Facebook for ‘sponsors’ passing by is the saddest thing ever and the worst injustice you can ever do to yourself.

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