#ManAboutTown2
There is a category of girls that we should tal about perhaps one day.
Saw one earlier today when shopping at Naivas Supermarket in Kitengela. She was plump in that athletic way, and walked with a sporty bounce, in her floral, light-green hemline long skirt and a black sleeveless top. Her skin, right from the face to the ankle was flawlessly smooth, partly because she hydrates a lot, but mostly because her skincare routine can build a dam in Samburu. She had the calm presence of mind that Sh 3.7 million in the bank with no debt obligations brings. Most definitely NGO money. NGO money has a certain healthy quality for women who work in the sector.
Her trolley was full of everything you see in the supermarket and wondered who the hell buys such. She is into big brands, and I saw, she buys those expensive table serviettes, I saw some huge bottle of olive oil, that milky stuff they use to dress a salad, and vinegar for many uses. She looked like the type who can follow through a TikTok video recipe on making some European ethnic salad. You will like it. The trolley was so full, and she is the shopper in the supermarket who does care if the bill will be Sh 113,018, she will just swipe some black debit card that the supermarket cashier only sees once a day. Her confidence is the type of any man would want in a daughter at 30 or 33.
It looked like she left work earlier, seeing as this was around 2.37 p.m. She wasn’t in any rush. She went about her shopping in great detail, but also unconscious that she was the sexiest woman in Kajiado County at that given time. She would stop by the cosmetic stand and read the labels, before picking the largest possible thing in that category.
It was hard to pinpoint her tribe. She didn’t have the instantly recognizable beauty of Kikuyu women. Her indumbu could definitely be from Vihiga, given the athleticism of her body. Think of a lighter (in complexion and weight), Serena Williams. Not the beauty you pick in a crowd, but for men with a taste for good, meaty bodies that promise heaven and deliver paradise, they would pick her, without thinking twice. Alternatively, she could be Kamba, I meet very sexy Kambas lately, not sure what sign the gods are sending my way. At best, she looked coasterian. The typr of a Giriama or Taita I can sit and contemplate marriage with.
I realized I am lingering around the supermarket unnecessarily longer and the CCTV guys might start suspecting me of suspicious activities, given I had only bought some nuts, some Imperial leather male soap, and a travel adapter. I left.
I could guess the girl works for some NGO, based on Ngong Road, or Kilimani. Her living in Kitengela is of course the most inconsistent thing. She felt more to be a Kileleshwa or Ngong Road girl. Most definitely, she has a piece of land or two, but she has not built on either. She looked the type held back by black tax, that she patiently dispenses with, though her younger sister at the University of Nairobi pisses her off because of indiscipline. Either, she lives with her parents and moved here to get her daughter to a good school in Kitengela. My guess.
She most likely grew up in a relatively poor family. Dad was a teacher who put in the best effort to afford her a good school since she was brilliant in school. She most likely went to a good provincial school in a neighboring county. She got a B+ or A- and joined Egerton for some good course whose employability is 100 percent. Walked out of college with a good job, and with luck, she has switched three or four jobs, all good. She had the shy, unassuming nature of Agricultural universities like Egerton bestow on girls like her. Her confidence is from within.
Relationship-wise.
Quite predictable. What I saw is that she really wants to be in one. But there aren’t men good enough for her. The one she wants doesn’t seem to be interested in her beyond the usual, you know: dine and dash. The few she gives chance always get intimidated by a set of factors, her income, child, or whatever hang-ups she may have, though she didn’t look like she has any. Any time she has met a man she thinks is good enough, she usually simps and unleashes her feminine side. The problem most likely is that she overstayed in a relationship with some dude from Homa Bay, who bailed out on her to marry a girl from Migori, only for things to go terribly bad, and now wants her back, but she hates him, despite his charm that has now been decimated to marrying the wrong woman. She plays Whitney Houston’s I Learnt from the Best, to remind herself not to trip. Once or twice, she has tripped and slept with him, deriving pleasure from his sob stories about the woman he married, but she has now outgrown the sucker.
She has tried Tinder. Three dates. One went well. One was ish-ish. The other dude was a con or a serial killer, she cheated death. She has tried Nairobi men, but they are underwhelming. There is some dude in Boston, but the dude in Boston thinks she is a gold digger and treats her suspiciously. She has had it with him. The dude in Berlin doing his Ph.D. is ideal, but he is semi-divorced and likes his children with the soon-to-be baby-mama. She wonders if she wants to get into such a situationships.
Generally, she has done well. Well, dating that Nigerian she met in a club in Hurlingham was ghetto and so low of her. Definitely, not her proudest moment. Well, the dude younger than her by five years she picked at a party was good in bed, but too childish. Also, she hates giving young men money. The healthiest relationship she has had was with a married man, but the wife once called her and they had a woman-to-woman talk. She had just come from church and that deeply touched her, she stopped.
So, there she is. Single. With an occasional sneaky link here and there, but there are more days she is dry-spelled than when she gets some. It bothers her. But she knows, that one day, one day, she will be lucky. But now she shops, cooks for herself and the child, if she has one, watches Netflix, hikes when she feels like it, gyms and swims, and wonders, how can one be so lucky and so unlucky?
Anyway, lemme Gloria Estefan comfort me to sleep.
