A DATE WITH JEZEBEL

zewdy-awalom Ethiopian beauty

Her overpowering fragrance has a hypnotic effect on you. She rests her head on your shoulder as her long polished nails make patterns on your thigh heightening the sexual tension. The heat emanating from her body, melodious voice and the sight of her long sexy legs scramble your thinking. The chemistry between you two is palpable. Disapproving looks from fellow passengers have utterly no effect on you. She sits up.

“Have you made up your mind about tonight?” She asks.

It is hard to believe that less than an hour ago she was a total stranger and now she is inviting you over to her place. You reminisce about the events leading to this very moment.

Having rained the entire afternoon, traffic out of city centre was at a complete standstill. When it rains heavily, a journey that usually takes you minutes can easily turn into hours so you decide to use the train.

You get to the train station at 7:30pm, quickly purchase a ticket before proceeding to the passengers bay. The waiting area is essentially a large open area with a long platform running along the railway tracks and a couple of benches arranged in a straight line.

Tonight it is a bit crowded. A number of men and women in dark-colored suits are huddled together in small groups. Some are leaning on columns while others are seated on the platform eyes glued to their phones. You walk along the benches until you find a small seating space next to a lady buried in a book. You squeeze in.

The lady doesn’t look up. Either the book she is reading is so captivating or she is just a snob. Nonetheless, that gives you an opportunity to check her out. She is in an elegant pink dress, that shows some cleavage,  ending just two inches above her knees. She also has a tiny white coat, matching earrings and shoes. You realise you have been staring at her for a while now, which means you have less than 10 seconds to say something or end up coming off as creepy.

“Excuse me, what book are you reading?” The opening line sounds lame the moment it escapes your lips. Dammit!

She closes the book after putting a bookmark, turns to you, sizing you up from head to toe with a blank expression on her face. You hold your breath in anticipation of the tongue lashing you are about to get.

“The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene.”

Is that the same guy who wrote 48 Laws of Power?”

Yes, he is my favorite writer. Are you into books?”

“I read whenever I can.”

An uneasy silence follows. Lots of guys have probably used the same opening line on her. I need to say something to keep the conversation going.

“How about you try out one of the seduction tricks you have learned on me?”

“I won’t need to use any tricks on you,” she says smiling. Her smile is infectious.  

You take a closer look at her face. She has flawless bronzed skin, eyebrows trimmed into shape, high cheekbones, pink lips and natural silky hair.There is an air of maturity around her. However, her eyes are strange. There is something sinister about them.

Rwanda-models (1)

“I’m Mark…Mark Maish”

“I’m Daisy… just Daisy”

“Okay Daisy, what do you do?”

“I’m an architect at Howard Humphreys though this is my last month. I’m leaving to launch my consultancy firm.”

The conversation shifts to business since you are also a budding entrepreneur before it gets a bit more personal. You gather that her mother is Rwandese, she grew up in London, which explains her British accent, before moving to Kenya three years ago. You are both surprised to know you have similar tastes in food, music, movies and even life philosophy. It feels like she is your soulmate.

The train arrives. While most people jostle for the front cars, Daisy and you board the one furthest from the noisy engine. A few minutes later the train departs for Syokimau.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

You haven’t talked to your girlfriend in almost a week. She asked you to give her some space. You have no idea why you always end up with the complicated ones.

“Does it matter if I have one?”

“Not really, I just don’t want to mess with the wrong chick.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” You reassure her even though you are scared of your girlfriend since she’s got a bad temper.

She snaps her fingers before your eyes jolting you back to the present. Daisy is expecting an answer from you. She has invited you for what she termed as an exclusive, invite-only party set to go down at her house tonight.

The reason you were heading to Syokimau is because your folks had invited you for an extended family dinner. However, It is not every day you bump into a pretty Nairobi chick who invites you on a date to a private party on the same night.

“I will go with you only if you promise to spend quality time with me.”

“I promise. There will also be other pretty chicks so you won’t get bored”

You text your cousin letting him know that you won’t make it for dinner citing an impromptu engagement.  

The train comes to a stop at the Syokimau Railway Station. You get off the train, walk through the parking lot to the exit. There is a light drizzle. You can feel the cold seeping into your bones. You chuck out your phone to call a cab.

syokimau train station
Courtesy skyscrapercity.com

No need for that. It is already taken care of,” she says with an air of finality.

A black Mercedes S350 pulls up next to you. It’s such a beauty. You can’t help but admire such an engineering perfection.

“That’s our ride.”  She says pointing at the Mercedes.

She gets into the co-driver seat. You jump into the back and close the door shutting behind the cold. You buckle up the seat belt while scanning around admiring the brown leather upholstery and pristine interior. As the car joins the highway, Daisy turns to the driver

“Sam, meet my new friend Mark…Mark meet my husband”

“Great to meet you, Mark,” says Sam sounding unexpectedly jovial.

Did she just say her husband? The disgusting video you saw on WhatsApp a few weeks back of a man sexually violated by a group of men after he was caught in the act with someone’s wife plays in your head. Ohh God, what did I just get myself into?

Sam is a tall, well-built man thus fighting him may not be a smart idea. Your adrenaline levels shoot up as you think of how to untangle yourself from this mess. I should call the police. You quickly dial 911 only to freeze before hitting the green button. Does the hotline even work in Kenya? What do I tell the police?

You look at Sam’s face through the rearview mirror. He is staring back at you. To your surprise, he doesn’t look angry at all. He has a sheepish grin on his face, which leaves you confused. He turns to Daisy.

“I like your friend, he is cute”

“I told you I will get someone we both like”

Sam looks at you and winks.

On the outside, you look rather calm but deep inside is a volcano of conflicting emotions, predominantly fear. When a muscular, hairy guy with  lecherous intentions clearly written on his face winks at you, you know you are finished. You didn’t sign up for whatever twisted orgy the two had planned for. Daisy turns out to be a true reincarnation of Jezebel. Hell, you wouldn’t even have talked to her had you known she was married to such a scary guy. 

I should grab his neck from behind and choke him so that he slows down the car then I jump out and roll like in the movies. You try opening the car door. It doesn’t bulge. Just then you zoom past the turn to your home.

“We are almost there,” Daisy announces.

Without thinking, you bend forward and jam your fingers down your throat. Your stomach churns as vomit fills your mouth. You cup your mouth with both hands as the contents slip through the fingers streaming down your hands.

“Hey don’t puke in my car!”

Sam brings the car to a sudden halt and unlocks the doors. You step out of the car, walk to the side drainage and vomit until there is nothing left in your digestive system. Sam and Daisy get out of the car and walk up to you. It’s now or never.

You break into a run towards the group of bodaboda guys about fifty meters away. From the corner of your eyes, you see  Sam running after you with something in his right hand. The thought of the hairy dude catching up with you motivates you to run even faster inching close to Usain Bolt’s 100-metre record. 

On reaching the bodaboda guys, you leap on one of the motorbikes.

“Twende!”

“Unaenda wapi?”

“Boss we twende!”

On seeing the horror on your face he starts the bike and rides off in a huff. The bike weaves through a convoy of heavy trucks on the highway at 100kph. You are without any protective gear, despite the road being slippery, you urge him to go even faster.

It hits you that you left your phone, which has all your contacts and sensitive documents, in Sam’s car. There is no way I’m going back for it!

Written By Mark Maish

#TheBrokeBillionaire

30 Comments

Add Yours

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *