STREET SMART “HUSTLERS” VERSES MIDDLE CLASS
And so I left office that early afternoon heading to town. We were to meet somewhere in town, most probably around Ambassador Hotel. I was going to meet her for the second time since our first encounter during my friend’s wedding committee in town. I was nervous. During our first meeting I had taken a chunk of time just to study her. Indeed she was the most beautiful woman to meet in the last three years. She was so busy on her expensive smart phone which was like four times bigger than mine. I had already noticed that all men in the room were staring at her. I could smell a very strong designer perfume coming from her way. I wanted to talk to her. But how could I start? This just proved to be a hard a task to me. This was not normal, cheap Kenyan ladies that am used to. Her dress was fine, short and classy. “Maybe she might be a sparing socialite” so I thought. When I worked as a customer care representative at a certain company four years ago, I had been taught about rapport. If you have no idea what a rapport is, don’t worry, it’s simply a state of harmonious understanding with another individual or group that enables greater and easier communication. In simple terms rapport is getting on well with another person by communicating or having things that are common.
Finally I gathered enough guts and I said “Hi”. “Hi, how are you doing?” she replied with a smile on her face which made her more beautiful than Kim Kardashian. “Am doing cool, Why are you so busy on your phone?” I asked again. “Mmmmmh am just checking some stuff on IG” she replied. “Kwani what has Inspector General done?” I asked curiously. She laughed continuously without stopping and then she said “IG means instagram, not Inspector General. Everyone laughed in the room. I was so embarrassed. I noticed that everyone was looking at me. I ignored and went on, “Ooh, I know Instagram” I told her, “I think I should follow you”. “Please follow me” she said.
The conversation went on and on. That was achievement. Once again I congratulated myself. It was a clear prove that I don’t disappoint when am dealing with a woman. This reminded me of my great friend Ogumo Nyapara. He has always taught me how to fake it until I make it. He always reminds me that “Nairobi sio ya mama yangu”. Ogumo Nyapara is matatu conductor along Jogoo Road applying root 58 that operates between Buruburu and town. He always introduces himself as Transport manager of a leading Transport firm in Nairobi. I still can’t understand why he attracts very beautiful women in Nairobi. He is so famous. His real name is Benson Gembe. He has taught me how to be “Street smart” just like him. Ogumo Nyapara always tells me never to accept the fact that am a hustler. I have learned the hard way from the best. Ogumo Nyapara might be a matatu conductor but he is a real “street smart”. He is a juggler of all trades. He dresses to kill. I like his fluent English. He is so eloquent yet he is just a form one drop out. He is always informed, from politics, soccer, economy and even bible since he is an usher in one of the biggest and influential new generation church that always trend on twitter whenever they are having a sermon series. He is always proud he ushers in a church whereby most of its congregants are middle class. short wedding dresses cheap
Back to the wedding committee, everything went well. She was so active during the meeting. At long last I said to her, “F is my name. “Wow! You have got such a cool name, Am Ju” she replied. I was still staring at her long, well-manicured nails. I had to call my friend Ogumo Nyapar who told me Ju was short form of Judy. We exchanged contacts then I gave her an “Obama” hug. I felt like I was on the moon. I had won her heart, so I thought.
But this was different scenario. In this case I was dealing with a total middle-class lady. I was heading to town to meet her for the second time. I still could not believe that she had agreed to meet me for a date. I was ready to spoil her. I had passed by an ATM and withdrew a whooping Ksh. 3000 which was about 30% of my total saving and bought a newspaper. I was also carrying a bottle of water which I had fetched from my humble bedsitter house back in Gashororo street in Juja town. I was wearing my Sunday best. I was also having my fake “beats by dre” head-sets on. Was also wearing my special occasion specs. I had watched two episodes of “Tujuane” in preparation for this date. While in a mat to town i called my friend Ogumo Nyapara and informed him of this date. “Mtu wangu kama ni middle class peleka yeye Java ama Pizza TRM” he told me. I texted her on watsup, “Hi Ju, on my way to town. Hope to see you in a short while”. “Cool, hope so too” she replied back.
I already made up my mind to either buy her coffee at Java or take her to TRM for pizza. I reached town around 4.00 PM. I was 30 minutes earlier to avoid disappointment especially for the first date. I tried to call Judy but she wasn’t picking my calls neither was she replying my texts despite watsup showing that she was online. After two hours of waiting, I received a text from her, “Hi Fredy, sorry I won’t make it to meet u. I got a puncture on my way 2 town. Niko garage” I was so heart broken. But one thing that hit me most was the fact that Judy is driving. I don’t even own a bicycle. All in all, this relationship must work. Am going back to the drawing board.
By Fred Ochieng Okeyo Ogworoh