On Thursday night, I went for the Captain Africa Contest and premiere of the Captain America: The winter soldier, a 3-D movie at IMAX. While the other contestants were asked to talk about their ambitions and what they would do if they won the title this particular judge only asked me the number of buttons my pea coat had.Since I didn’t know how many they were (later found out that they are 12 buttons) I was deemed unfit for the title. Dejected, I left the theater at 3am and walked to Ronald Ngala Street to catch a Matatu back to campus.

There, I found a half-full 14-seater Matatu. At the door was a guy struggling with some barefooted lady in a short red dress trying to push her into the vehicle. The lady fought back clawing at the guy. I later learnt that the two visibly inebriated lovebirds were Davy and Shantelle, students at JKUAT. Apparently Shantelle had just turned 19, and to celebrate her birthday Davy took her out clubbing. I slide into the seat behind drivers next to some half-asleep guy in a black leather jacket.


The guy leaned towards me, hand stretched out

Hi! I am Justus, a morgue attendant at Chiromo!”

Hi! I am mark. Are you really a morgue attendant?

Yeah, what’s the big deal about it?” Careful not to offend him I ask

How do you manage to stay sane after seeing such gruesome stuff?”

He smiles, “It’s not that bad considering I get to see very beautiful naked ladies!

The dude goes ahead and gives me graphic details of the procedures he performs on the departed. Convinced he is a psycho, I try to kill the conversation and look away but he wasn’t the kind who reads subtle signs. He tapped on my shoulder, when I turned offered me a joint of what he called ‘sweet weed’. He prescribed that I take only two puffs a day with a strong warning that anything above that will have me totally zonked out.

If you need anything from the morgue or another supply of weed don’t hesitate to call me” he said handing over to me a business card.

Just then a lady in a dark suit and a blue blouse boarded the Matatu. The skirt hugged her so tight, accentuating every curve on her well endowed derriere. The skirt ended just a few inches above the knees revealing some shapely legs. I took in a deep breath of her overpowering fragrance as my eyes scan her upper body. Damn! She had this amazing cleavage exposed just enough to tickle my fantasy! I realized that I had been staring at her rack for long so I lifted up my gaze only to find her looking at me.


Expecting a tongue lashing for my indecent behavior she smiles gives me this inviting look. She looked like she was in her early 30’s, a cougar on the prowl. The Matatu was now full so the driver engaged the forward gear and made for Thika.

By any chance are you Congolese?”

Yeah, how did you know?” I decide to play along.

Your hair and you look too calm to be a Kenyan!

I sat there smiling while crossing my fingers hoping she won’t ask me to speak Zaire.

“By the way I am Cathy, what’s your name?”

I’m Lammergeier!” using my nickname to collaborate the story of me being a Congolese.

“Are you a musician?”

Well I sing along to my favorite Daughtry tunes and participate in karaoke sessions

{Laughing out aloud} “Seriously what do you do?”

“I’m still in college though I also write in a few magazines. You?”

“Cool! I manage some hotel in Hurligahm”

“Wow! That sounds interesting. Tell me more!”

Nah, let’s keep this conversation between you and me

She had this distinct foreign accent, words came from her mouth with such finesse, intoxicated with her awesomeness all I did was nod and smile without the slightest idea of what she said. Repeated motions, her long curls of natural hair would fall, cover her face then she would throw her head back, smile, revealing a set of well-shaped white teeth. The kind you only see in tooth paste commercials.


{Slap!} We both looked behind only to find Shantelle holding her left cheek, tears streaming down her face. “Davy, how can you slap me?” she asked amid sobs. The old men seated at the back congratulated Davy claiming Shantelle deserved to be ‘disciplined’. Cathy comforted her while castigating Davy,

You guy, that’s not how you treat a lady!…Ladies are pretty little creatures who should be treated gently, just like flowers!”

This is how you treat a woman…” she continued now looking deep into my eyes, one hand stroking my hair, face and neck while the other making circles on my inner thigh. The light touch of her well manicured nails on my skin sent sparks down my spine. This went on for about 10 minutes.

Unsure whether that was still a demonstration to the men on how to treat women or a move on me I let her continue. She leaned closer, her luscious red lips hovering less than 2 inches away from mine, teasing me while still caressing my thighs and this time closer to my ‘fundamendos’. A faint smell of vodka in her breath struck my sinuses.

Where do you live Lammergeier?”

My throat was so dry due to the heightened sex urge that all I could croak was “On campus…K.U

Nice! I live in Kahawa with my husband and son

As if reading my thoughts she reassures me “You have nothing to worry, my last boyfriend was 4 years younger than me


The Matatu conductor announced that we were close to Wendani. The cougar looked at me and said “That’s my destination. I wish to see you again, can I have your number?”  She must have known I would give a fictious number so she grabbed my phone then dialed her cell phone before giving it back. She then whispered into my ear “I will soon invite you over!” winked and with that she alighted and disappeared into the darkness.

A couple of minutes later I alighted at the campus main gate and made for my hostel as the night’s events replayed in my mind. Whoa! Who knew ridding a Matatu at 3am could be this interesting?

Ohh! I will definitely be waiting for that call!


Written by Mark Maish


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