Chapter 2

I staggered off the plane at Nairobi airport, hardly daring to believe that the noise had stopped. My ears hurt despite the earplugs I’d been issued with, and although I’d slept, I was bone weary and felt dirty and sticky. It was two o’clock in the morning. Once I got through customs and collected my luggage, I pushed through the hordes of youngsters begging or offering to carry my luggage, and hailed a taxi. After a twenty-minute journey I arrived at the bungalow. It was in darkness. I banged on the front door and after a while a light went on. A voice shouted through the door.

“Who is it?”

I shouted back. “William Munro!”

A face leered out of the partly opened door then it opened wide and I could see a young black man, wearing what looked like a night shirt, looking me up and down.

“I’ve rented the bungalow for three weeks I’ve just arrived.”

The young man bobbed his head.

“Welcome Bwana. I sorry I sleep.” He lifted my case. “In here please.” The young man led the way into the house, switching the lights on as he went. “This lounge,” he said, stopping in a large room.

I didn’t even look around.

“Just show me to the bedroom, I’ll have a shower and go straight to bed.”

I was led to the bedroom and shown the bathroom.

“Shower not hot.” I was told.

“I don’t care,” I replied, starting to strip off my clothes.

You want tea, coffee?” the houseboy asked.

“A cup of tea please,” I replied. “What is your name?”

“Kabero,” the young man replied. “I make tea.”

“Thank you Kabero.”

I stripped off the rest of my clothes, found a towel, figured out how to work the shower and stepped into the lukewarm spray. I washed my hair and every part of my body, then dried myself, rubbing until my skin was red, then on hearing Kabero’s knock, wrapped the towel round my middle and opened the door to find the houseboy holding a tray.

“Where you want your tea Bwana?” he asked.

“In the bedroom.”

“What time I wake you?”

“I’m tired, just let me sleep.” I eyed Kabero, still hovering. “Don’t worry about breakfast, I’ll make myself something”

“Thank you Bwana.” Kabero bobbed his head and left.

I drank down the tea, then too exhausted to even open my suitcase, clambered into bed naked, pulled the sheet over myself and immediately fell asleep.

I woke and sat up, I was drenched in sweat. I looked up at the fan, motionless in the ceiling. I’d forgotten to switch it on. I felt much better, but the glare of the sun hurt my eyes. I rose and shut the curtains. It suddenly sank in, I was in Kenya! My stomach rumbled. I had a quick shower, and dried myself. I unpacked and dressed in my light clothes, I found the kitchen which was well equipped, with a refrigerator, electric cooker, toaster, electric kettle and coffee percolator. A row of gleaming copper pans hung on hooks and dishes and cups were neatly arranged on a shelf. I found cereal in a cupboard and made a pot of tea. After breakfast I explored the house. There was a dining room off the kitchen, with a fair sized, highly polished mahogany table. The lounge was spacious with two large three-seater settees and four armchairs. The master bedroom where I’d slept was large, with a huge bed. The second bedroom was medium size with two single beds. I stepped through the French windows to inspect the garden. It was large and well cared for, with a well-manicured lawn bordered by colourful flowering bushes in bloom. I breathed in the exotic scents with a sudden excitement.

I thought again, ‘I’m in Kenya.’

I remembered why I’d come and decided to have a look round Nairobi. I found Kabero in the front garden.

“You have breakfast Bwana?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you Kabero. Would you like to show me around Nairobi?”

“I do that Bwana. How you go?”

“I’ll take the Land Rover.”

“I get keys. When you go?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“I be ready.”

He disappeared into the house then reappeared to open the garage doors and give me the Land Rover keys.

I climbed into the driving seat, started the engine and reversed out into the road. I drove carefully up and down the road, getting the hang of the gears, then confidently drove back into the drive, found Kabero waiting and set off.

I found Princess Elizabeth Way and drove down it to the centre of Nairobi, noticing the changes. Some of the smaller roads that were dirt tracks, lined with wooden shacks with corrugated roofs in my boyhood; were now well-paved roads with tall glass and concrete buildings on each side. There were far more cars and buses, and the local taxis, ‘matata’s’ I remembered they were called, were everywhere. I eventually found a parking place. I made arrangements at the bank and drew money out in shillings, the local currency. I gave Kabero some money to buy enough supplies for the next few days. We agreed to meet back at the Land Rover in two hours, time. I then set off on foot to explore the centre of Nairobi.

There were more cultivated green spaces than I remembered. The gardens and parks were a riot of colours. Jacaranda trees with violet blossoms, purple bougainvillea, white frangipani and bright red hibiscus wafted their fragrances in my direction. Almost as colourful as the flowers, were the men with brightly coloured shirts and the women in bright clothes, some balancing baskets on their heads. Everywhere I saw smiling African faces with shining teeth. I noticed with regret that the women and girls were now covering their upper bodies, but judging by the movement under their thin tops, bras had not caught on yet.

I remembered why I had come here. It had seemed so easy. Pick up a black girl for a couple of weeks. But how did one go about it? They weren’t going to come knocking at my door asking to come in! I decided to ask Kabero.

I walked back towards the Land Rover and on the way I found an off-license and bought a couple of bottles of whisky and a crate of beer and had a boy carry them back to the Land Rover and load them in the back. I waited, eyeing up any girls who were passing. They walked, heads held high, and swayed as if carrying secret music inside them.

Kabero arrived carrying some packages. Once we were seated I cleared my throat.

“I would like a girl to warm my bed for the three weeks I’m here. Can you tell me how to do it?”

Kabero looked shocked. “What kind of girl Bwana?”

“A black girl. Not a (I used a Swahili word meaning “professional”), and not fat.” I remembered Peter Wilson’s comments, “and over fifteen,” I added as an afterthought, “I would pay her well.”

Kabero sat in thought for a while.

“I know a girl, she works in hotel. We go look now?”

“How old is she?”

“She seventeen, she beautiful.”

I tried not to look too eager.

“Mm, I suppose so. Tell me where to go.”

Following Kabero’s instructions, I arrived at a rundown hotel in the back streets. Kabero went in at a side door and a short time later, he appeared with a woman. I eyed her as she approached. She certainly wasn’t slim, and she certainly wasn’t seventeen. Kabero opened the door.

“This girl, Bwana, she beautiful.”

He muttered in some native language. The woman took her top off and posed for me, her breasts wobbling as she moved.

She smiled at me. “You like?”

There was a hardness in her eyes.

I called, “Kabero, get in.” I fumbled in my wallet and extracted a note “Give her this.” I drove off, leaving the woman, still standing bare breasted, looking at the note in her hand.

“You no like?” Kabero sounded disappointed.

“No, she’s too old.”

Kabero looked thoughtful. “I know other girl, she my sister.”

“How old is she?”

Kabero hesitated. “She fifteen.”

“When can I see her?”

“I go now.”

“Can I come?”

Kabero shook his head.

“Maybe Baba (father) not like.”

“Can I drop you anywhere?”

“Yes Bwana, I show.”

With Kabero’s guidance I drove to what looked like a huge scrapyard.

“How long will you be?” I asked.

“You go home Bwana. I see you tonight.”

After taking some wrong turns. I eventually found my way back to the bungalow in the darkness. I’d forgotten how the sun went down quickly in Kenya. I unloaded, put the car in the garage and locked up, then sat with a whisky and a bottle of beer to wait for Kabero. At about ten o’clock that night, I heard the door open, then Kabero knocked at my door.

“Come in,” I called.

Kabero entered with a big grin on his face.

“Baba say you get girl.”

“Good! thank you Kabero. Did you bring her?”

Kabero bobbed his head.

“We get her tomorrow.”

I felt anticipation rise. “What is she like Kabero?”

“She young.”

“How young?”

Kabero moved his weight from one leg to the other. “She fifteen.”

“What else?”

“She small and thin, her name Jerie.”

“When will we go?”

“Baba says in afternoon.”

“What will she eat? Should we go shopping?”

“She eats anything Bwana.”

“Well thank you Kabero. I’m off to bed.”

I remembered to switch the fan on, then lay under the single sheet with the moonlight through the curtains silvering the room. I repeated “Jerie”, “Jerie” to myself. A strange excitement stirred deep inside me.