Thread by @CSakwah

Story Thread.

They were just strangers, the two beautiful girls, but the havoc that they left in my life within such a short period of knowing each other was enormous. They charmed me with their beauty and an exuberant aura into a trap.

On this day, I was sitting in a small garden sandwiched between Hall 1 hostel (University of Nairobi) and Mamlaka Road. I was smoking Dunhill. In the middle of the garden were two benches. I clouded my eyesight with a dense puff of Dunhill cigarette smoke from my nose.

When the smoke diffused out of my eyesight, the two figures of the most sophisticated guises I have ever seen walked into the garden.
It was offbeat spotting two girls walking towards a cigarette smoking zone within male students’ residential area,

especially devoid of the company of male acquaintances. At that time, as they advanced towards me, they seemed harmless, and stroke my conscience like two girls desperate for campus vibing or hanging out.
I stared at them, with my lewd, chilly eyes.

I didn’t hide the fact that I was ogling them. And they played along, swaying their almost identical hips from side to side, in a manner that provoked my salaciousness. They seemed to invite my stares. They offered a choreographed ‘hi’,

and a smile as they walked past me to sit on the other bench.
In most cases, cigarette smokers start their conversation by one of them asking for a lighter from the other. That is exactly what they did. I shared my lighter with them.

They were wearing low-cut dresses whose collars also acted as their br**sts’ cap. The tops were sufficiently philanthropic enough to feed my eyes with their puffed-out cleavages. And their smiles, when they thanked me for the lighter, were enchanting.

Satan knows that my greatest weakness in women is a beautiful smile, and He sent them to entice me with one.
‘The ambiance of this place is very relaxing. I wonder why they did not make such a place in the lady’s side of student's residential area!’ one of them,

Patricia, as I came to learn her name later, complained.
‘It is there,’ Martha replied. ‘Only that a lady smoking at such a garden would be frowned at, castigated, or harshly judged. Guys are less judgmental.’
‘It is your first time here?’ I cleared my throat and crooked,

eager to jump into their conversation.
‘Yes, We stay at Box (lady’s hostel)’ Martha said.
‘And you?’ Patricia asked.
‘It is my place when I want to escape from this ruination that is my university education.

Just seeing Kenyans drive high-end cars along Mamlaka Road en route to and from Milimani Estate is therapeutic.’ I replied.
I was soon engrossed in their charms and beauty. Periodically, I would lift my head, puff out smoke

and take the advantage of the smoky cloud oscillating around my face to check their thighs, or cleavage, or the curves of their lips while they chatted and smiled.
The girls went about complaining that they did not have the freedom they craved in females hostels.

They wanted the freedom that men enjoyed; smoke shash freely from inside their rooms and have male visitors at any given point of the day.
I wanted to offer them my room if at all they were after a room from which they would smoke freely.

It was pretty common to find guys smoking shash from their rooms, sometimes openly.
‘What is your name?’ Martha asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
‘Sakwah,’ I replied.
‘Well, Sakwah, can you do me a favor?’ Her smile, when registering this request, erased all possible

‘No’ responses from my head even before she asked for the favor.
‘Yea, anything for you,’ I replied.
‘This is embarrassing, but I am pressed. Ohh, lord, this is awkward,’ she rolled her eyes to register her shame, and

I must admit that my heart almost twitched at the sight of the beauty that was her rolled eyes. ‘I would like to use your hostel’s washrooms, but I can’t walk there alone… I mean we…’ she gestured to Patricia. ‘Can you escort us?’ She added.

‘Of course, yes. Don’t be embarrassed over something as natural,’ I responded. ‘After you guys,’ I muted.
The pride that came with walking while sandwiched between two beautiful girls was unexplainable. My friends playing pool outside hall 2,

some lazying around the hostels after classes, stared at me with envious eyes. I bounced past them, flaunting the beauties and talking animatedly, sometimes laughing at their lame jokes just to parade my non-existence prowess to my friends.
'I admire how free guys live.

I wish I would walk outside my room topless, play pool by my hostel without attracting unwarranted attention,’ Martha noted as we walked past a group of students playing pool outside the Hall.
‘For me, it is the smell of shash diffusing from almost every room.

I want that, I crave such a lifestyle.’ Each step made me realize how desperate the girls were to find a room to smoke or have the freedom to do so without being judged. Maybe that is why they hovered around male students' residential area?

Inside the hall, I led the way to the washroom on the ground floor. I had never noticed that our washrooms stunk to high heavens until I was in the company of the two beauties. They did not seem to care, nonetheless. Martha dashed in, followed by Patricia. Then I followed.

Martha entered into one of the toilets and didn’t close the door behind her. Patricia stood by it, held the door open. I didn’t pretend to look away, and Martha, before half-striping, didn’t hesitate to ensure that I wasn’t staring.

She had nothing beneath her dress, not even manners nor shame.
She pulled her dress up, bent above the bowel, and gushed a waterfall into the bowel, while I watched, while she watched me watching her.
Watching a girl pee half-naked messed my mind.

The girls had already messed up with my head, thinking. I couldn’t figure what they wanted, really. They got me hooked to whatever their Intentions were. Martha walked out of the toilet and washed her hands by the sink. I watched her walked all the way.
‘You have a room?’

Patricia asked. I nodded my head, ‘I have some herbs.’
‘Herbs?’ I asked. Martha gave me the dummy stare.
‘Sash. Is it okay if we smoke from your room?. The reason why we came this way, honestly, was to find a guy willing to host us in his room while we smoke shash,’

Martha requested. I was right. They wanted a room to smoke shash.
‘We have a huge craving for a blunt. We can’t smoke from our hostels without raising unnecessary attention.’
‘Of course, you can. Any day, any time.’ I led them to my room.

I was leading two girls that I had known barely an hour ago into my room. I could not believe my luck, I thought, at getting the company of two beautiful girls in my room without putting in much effort.
They loved my company, I still thought, foolishly and imprudently.

I never questioned their intentions, nor motives. Once inside the room, Martha unbuttoned her top. My eyes, wide open, were glued on her. She unhooked her bra. She had stashed several sticks of shash between her b**bs.

I only pulled my eyes off her t*ts when Patricia asked me to play some music on my subwoofer. I created a Jamaican riddim playlist on my computer’s VLC.
‘When Mi abend over, me I whine and kotch,’ the sound of J Capri and Charly Black pulled the girls from the bed.

They started dancing, whining, and shaking their goodies. Martha bent over and started bubbling on my groin. Out of nowhere, we had launched a mini-party, with music and shash as the only ingredient.
We shared the first stick of shash, from one mouth to the other.

At some point, Patricia turned to my side, puffed the smoke on my face, and kissed me. It was going down, it was happening. I was very excited, s*xually and physically.
‘Where is your roommate?’ Patricia asked.
‘Probably playing pool.’
‘We are having a lot of fun,’ Martha said

‘We would like to spend the night here, just smoking and having fun. The female hostels are too boring for such a fun evening,’ Patricia said.
‘We have enough sticks to last the whole night.’
Without a second thought, I called my roommate, Teddy,

and informed him that I was exiling him that night, with immediate effect.
‘You can’t do this. It is already 7 PM. You should have told me earlier enough,’ he complained.
‘It just came up, like an emergency,’ I said.

Teddy uttered a few inaudible words to registered his dissatisfaction with how I was exiling him.
‘When are they leaving?’ He asked.
‘Tomorrow…’
‘Tomorrow in the evening,’ Patricia whispered into my ears and nibbled my ear lobe.
‘Tomorrow in the evening,’ I said.

‘Tomorrow in the evening? I have classes in the morning.’
‘Come and pick your books, mate. It is the rule of the house, the rule of exile. We did not make them, they have existed for ages.’
‘Hizi exile hazo zinasinya kila time,’ He complained and hanged the phone.

‘It is not my problem that he can’t attract women and exile me as much,’ I commented. The girls had their hands all over my body, massaging, caressing, squeezing me. I was on cloud nine, hanging out with Bro. Ochola. I anticipated more fire, more sparks, more cloud nine.

Teddy was looking lugubrious when he came to pick his essentials. No one ever wanted to be exiled on campus, especially when the exile happened without a prior warning.
Teddy muted a hi to the girls. His stare was not warm. He stared at them suspiciously.

I had never seen him as mad and disgusted as he was on that day. He picked his books, towel, toothbrush and excused himself to leave.
When he was at the door, he requested to talk to me privately. I lifted my shoulders up and protested all the way to where he was.

I did not want to miss a minute of the lady’s warmth.
‘Those girls, they don’t seem like students. Are you sure they are students?’
I frowned. What was wrong with that guy? Wivu tu. ‘What is wrong with you, mate? Are you jealous or what?’
‘No. Only that…’
‘Only what?’

‘They don’t even seem like your usual type, men. There is something suspicious…’
‘Weee f*ck off, bwana.’ I dismissed him and slammed the door on his face with rage. I could not stand a minute of him suspecting the beautiful girls. Such enemies of progress are a total turn-off,

I thought. When I walked into the room, the girls were butt-naked, dancing.
‘Your roommate is very mean,’ Martha said.
‘He did not like us, ama?’
‘Ignore that uncultured rascal from South Migirango. He probably thinks anything else other than taking soya is boring.

This is my yard, and I make the rules.’ Martha extended a burning blunt on my side. Each one had their own stick in the hands.
We danced, rubbed, caressed, and kissed. However, each puff that I made on that stick made me feel drowsy.

I felt like I was losing it; my energy, my vision, and even my mind. You see, this was my first time smoking Shash. I assumed the effects were because I was an inexperienced shush smoker. Therefore, I kept on smoking. Patrician pushed me on the bed, then sat on me.

After that, I can only remember a slap on my face. At first, the slap felt like a tap on my face, then its ferocity increased.
Maybe they were up to some BDSM stuff, you know, the violent stuff where your partner slaps the hell out of you, whips you, and stuff like that.

Another slap, each more savagery than the previous one. I was slowly regaining my consciousness. The slaps were slowly restoring me to my factory settings, one after the other.
‘Sakwah,’ the tone wasn’t feminine, but a familiar male kisii voice.

I accustomed it to violence, especially when the owner was enraged.
The call of my name was followed by vigorous shaking, ‘wake up, Sakwah,’ he was shouting. I slowly opened my eyes, and quickly closed them because the reflection from the sun entering the house

through the window was strong.
Daylight? Where was I?
‘Sakwah, where is my laptop?’ Teddy asked.
‘Augh, bwana, you locked your laptop in your closet before leaving. Stop disturb…’ I crooked. My body was groggy, I was mentally disoriented.
Riap! Another slap.

At that time, I regained full consciousness. That particular slap made me more attentive than I have ever been in my life. Teddy was one nonsense Kisii guy.
‘What is, bwana? Why are you slapping me?’ I stood up ready to defend myself, mundu khu mundu.

It was only at that time that I realized that my laptop, subwoofer, a few pairs of shoes, and my suitcase were missing as well.
Ohh, and my LG L3 phone. ‘Calm down, Teddy, we have been robbed.’ Teddy was advancing towards me with more intentions of slapping me.
‘Robbed?

Are you joking, Sakwah? Who were they?’
‘Patricia and Martha.’
‘From which school?’
‘UON, of course.’
‘I mean, school of arts, medicine, science, law or?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you have their numbers or anything?’
‘No.’ Another heavy slap. I could not stand the slaps.

They were getting heavier and heavier each time. And I couldn’t stand up and fight Teddy. He was massively built. I dashed out of the room and locked the door from the inside. Teddy was trapped from the inside.

Thankfully, HELB had just disbursed the students’ loans into my account. I walked to Equity Bank along Kimathi Streets, withdrew all my HELB loan, 21k, and bought a refurbished laptop, the same model as Teddy’s. I walked back to school, knocked on Teddy’s friend’s door.

I gave him the laptop, and our door keys and told him to take the laptop to Teddy in my room.
I don’t know where I went to, but I remember just walking and walking through Chiromo Campus into the Chiromo Mortuary.

Once I was inside the mortuary, I started screaming at the top of my voice. I was so loud, and emotional, that even those who had genuinely lost their loved ones’ came over to calm me down.

You can get the collection of my short stories; The Ghost from Mogadishu and other short stories, for ksh. 200.
Payment is through M-Pesa buy goods till number 9096778.
The collection is only available as a PDF.
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