Thread by @CSakwah

Story Thread.

Kui made a living from surreptitiously spiking men’s drinks in a club in Kasarani and robbing them of their valuables; wallets, watches, and phones. She had perfected the art.

One day, the club’s management informed her that she could no longer work from their club because the police were on the club’s heels following persistent complaints from customers. They fired her.

A devastated Kui sought advice from her friend who had been in the trade for ages. Her friend suggested that she resort to the traditional form of prostitution; parading herself on the streets for selection.

She was to guise herself as a street hooker, get picked for a night at the man’s house, sedate him and rob his home while he slept.
Kui lamented how she was no longer going to get free club meals, drinks, and compliments from club perverts.

‘Some of the men will cook for you in their house, some will order food and drinks for you. Remember, at home, you won’t be robbing wallets and phones alone. There are laptops, watches, shoes et al. Men who pick women on the streets drive expensive cars.

They are sexually starved rich men seeking an escape from the sexual boredom from their wives.’
On this day, her first night on the streets, Kasarani was devastating cold. She endured the freezing cold night in her mini-skirt and an off-shoulder, V-nicked tumbo-cut top.

At around midnight, when she thought she could not endure the cold anymore, a Subaru parked on the other side of the road. As other hookers ran to the car to negotiate with the pervert, she remaining standing unsure of what to do. Scrambling for customers had never been her art.

In clubs, it is the men who picked her.
The Subaru man lowered his window and beckoned her. He ignored the other girls. They leered at Kui as she walked with a slow and calculated poise towards the man. They left the streets towards the man’s house in Sportview Estate, Kasarani

. Sportview Estate is the only estate with more rental-houses per SQ KM than bars, clubs, and wines and spirits shops. Kasarani has more alcohol joints than rental houses.
The house was well furnished and spacious.

Her eyes darted steadily from the TV to the home theatre, to the laptop on the study table. She was spoilt with the choices to rob once she had sedated the man. She was nervous, and the man noticed it.

Once she was comfortable, the man locked his door and spanked her on his way back to his chair. At that time, the man hadn’t talked or bragged about his car, house, or whatever he owned.

That was uncharacteristic of Subaru owners, who have a habit of pronouncing what they own or the price of their Subaru. Subaru owners are the equivalent of Alliance High school alumni. They are capable of walking to a stranger in the washroom of a club and tell him;

‘by the way, I just imported my Subaru recently. What do you drive?’
‘Empty your purse on the table!’ the man said with a cold tone.
‘What?’ Kui struggled to speak, pretending to not have heard what the man had said. It was a whisper.

‘I said empty your purse.’ His voice was colder and authoritative. Kui hesitated. The man leaned back on his chair, pushed his hand between the couch’s cushion, and pulled out a gun. ‘Now, I don’t love repeating myself for the third time.’
Kui emptied her purse on the table.

She was horrified at the sight of a gun. ‘Hookers walk with lip bum, a packet of condoms, a mirror, and a comb. What are you doing with a bottle of Rohypnol, a strong sedative?’
Kui nodded her head. ‘I use it after my work. I have been struggling with sleep recently.’

‘And so you thought a drug that makes one sleep for 12 hours was the right pick?’ Kui said nothing. ‘This is not my house. This is a friend’s house whom you sedated and robbed in a club two weeks ago. He lost important contacts with the phone.

He lost a business worth millions. I have been on your trail for days. I am contracted to murder you.’ The man cocked his gun. The cocking sound startled Kui. Her blood froze. For the first time, she noticed scary scars on the man’s face. They were freshly healed.

‘What would you like to say or do before I shoot your head?’ He raised his hand to aim his gun at Kui’s face. Kui did not winch a muscle. She did not respond to his question. He repeated his question while walking closer to her.

‘To kiss you,’ she said. Her voice was scratchy. ‘You seem a troubled man savored with solitude. Before I die, I want to show you some love.’ She added. The man blinked; emotionally. ‘Can I?’ She asked while moving closer to the man. He moved backward.

For a second, the man ogled her cleavage. He blinked.
‘Stay where you are, or I will shoot you!’ He raised his hand to aim at her forehead. ‘I will blow your brain if you take another step!’
Kui gestured to strip. The man stopped her.

‘You are fresh from prison.’ She whispered seductively.
‘How do you know that?’ The man asked. He was unsteady.
‘I can tell it on your face. I just want to kiss you and give you what you have missed while in prison.’ She moved closer to him. He did not move back.

His hand was unsteady. She pouted her lips, moved them towards his, and kissed him. When she pulled her lips away, the man was dizzy. His vision was blurred, his eyes heavy. In a short time, the gun fell from his hand. Kui grabbed him before he fell on the floor.

She lay him on the couch and covered his sedated and sleepy body with a duvet that she picked from the bedroom. Before robbing, she served herself to the man's food in the kitchen.