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Sabina Joy.

This piece was first informed by a slight altercation then spurred by bravado. A friend told me that I’m a “middle-class sympathiser” masquerading behind my yellowish rants as a way of “validating and lauding” the middle-class idiosyncrasies and that I should consider my modus operandi and “stop representing” the farce that this dated landscape has become.

Bullshit, I spat, I don’t representing anyone, and I only write about the middle-class because they are sitting ducks. “Sadly, you have become what you write,” she egged on, “and one day, when this middle-class skin has grown old, you will be left un-reinvented and stewing in your own reservoir of inoperable words.”

I asked her, “are you here to knock my head against a wall or is this going anywhere other than badly?”

“Get out of that shell, Biko.”

“By doing what?”

“Leave what you know. Go to the unknown,”

“Unknown? Like where this conversation is headed?”

“Close. Why don’t you one day show that you have the cajones to write about something challenging?”

“I actually like that.”

“What, the idea?”

“No, cajones. People don’t use that word enough.”

Stony silence.

“OK, fine. What do you want me to write about that you imagine will get me out of my comfort zone?” I inquired.

“Write about Sabina Joy.”

Enter stage left, Wanjohi Githae. Reporter with The People newspaper. He hails from Kerugoya Town and attended Kaitheri Primary School. By the way when some Kuyus tell you a name of a school they attended you always imagine they are pulling your leg because the names sound like a traditional herb: Riamukurwe Sec School, Ithekahuno Sec School, Gathuki Mundu Pri School (meaning: shake up a guy), Kianguenyi Sec School, Kangubiri Sec School, Kiangoma Sec. School (meaning: the devil’s), Muthuani Sec School…It goes on and on like a horror movie credit.

You meet someone who attended one of these schools and you want to reach out and hug them. Hug them and tell them, “it’s all right, you are here now, you are here, that’s all that matters.”

I met Wanjohi in 2010 during some KTB media trip where we scored the country from Laikipia to Tsavo. Fun times. On our last stop at Shompole Lodge (now defunct), a top-of-the-range resort clinging on the edge of Nguruman escarpment and charging about 50K per person per night for a view and a bed, we shared a large condo which had two monstrous four post beds, a private pool, no windows or walls facing the escarpment and a view so stunning it looked like a prank.

Anyway, this morning I stir awake because the room is suddenly awash with orange as the sun is rising. From my bed I could see the sunrise without leaving it and as I lie there half-asleep, I see Wanjohi walking across the room, heading to the loo. He’s naked. Buck-naked. I’m stunned. Not stunned at his nakedness but at the fact. But he’s nonchalant, shuffling across yawning and scratching his back. That’s how life is; you wake up hoping to see the glorious sunset instead you get your sun blocked by a naked man. And you dare complain about traffic? If that were Nyanza it would have been a different story, because the only folk who walk naked at dawn are night-runners. Wanjohi, unbeknownst to him, has that recessive night-running gene.

I called him last week and told him, “Boss, how about you take me to Sabina Joy, I want to check it out. Two hours tops. I’m buying.” He was confused but agreed.

You might know Sabina Joy as Karumaindo. It’s legendary, a mythological train that tirelessly keeps chugging and coughing decades of lustful notoriety. Karumaindo has been there since God was a teenager. It’s ideally a whorehouse, but if you are of the more decent disposition you will call it a bar. Everybody who has been in this town longer than a week has, at least, heard one urban lore about Karumaindo. It’s revered for its licentiousness; it’s total lack of sympathy to the naïve or the urban-virgins. Depending on whom you ask, it’s the den of thieves and the spot in town where Jezebel hangs her bra. Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi. Although you might be with people you are always alone at Karumaindo because the quest for the pleasures of the flesh is a journey pursued alone.

And I was dying to see it for myself.

So 8pm last Friday. I leave my wallet, phone and watch in the car, not because I’m a wuss but because…OK, because I’m a wuss. I meet up with Wanjohi and together we walk down Kimathi Street, cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton and past the statue of Tom Mboya that stands forlornly in the dark pointing towards statehouse and in the process turning into a pitiful emblem of the Luo’s reiterated inability to rise to the big seat. Wanjohi reads me the riot act: don’t order anything that can’t be opened before you, so no whisky, or brandy; don’t leave your drink unattended; always keep your eye on the drink; minimise bathroom breaks; don’t use a glass; stay close; don’t get drunk; don’t touch any chic.

“What if she touches me first?” I wonder.

We stroll past National Archive, past hawkers and street bums and vagabonds and the evening crowd rushing home with the weight of the day slung over their shoulders. We pass that square before Ambassador Hotel, where all the suited Luos carrying folded newspapers (The Standard mostly) hurdle in circles talking siasa animatedly. You will not find a more boisterous and dedicated political panel of analysts South of Limpopo.

Sabina Joy doesn’t announce herself because Sabina Joy doesn’t need to announce herself. That’s how cocky Sabina is – whoever she was/is. One moment you are walking past the smorgasbord of heaving commerce at the Ambassador stage and the next the entrance is upon you. Only a small dusty Tusker shingle above directs you in.

Once you cross this threshold you have crossed the Rubicon. Now you are in a rabbit hole. (A bit of pun, of course). You walk up a tunnel-like winding staircase, following the thudding sound of the muffled music above. You walk up this tunnel of debauchery with other men, trudging up determinedly and with all that unbridled hope of those led by their crotches.

On the second floor there is a security guy with rheumy eyes the colour of strong tea, patting us down, groping our pockets and impatiently waving us in. We are patted by about four different security guys. Then we walk down this corridor with flashing gaudy disco lights. There are girls writhing around in what in this part of town passes for sexy. Fat girls, slim girls, light girls, dark girls, pretty girls, girls with faces only a mother can love, girls with faces that can fit at Brew Bistro, girls in heels and girls in sandals, girls

with long weave, bald girls, girls with talons for toes, dusty-footed girls, red eyed girls, girls with red lips, smiling girls, scowling girls, girls with teeth from Nakuru, girls with breasts that can asphyxiate you, girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them. They all have one thing in common; they are here for you. At a price.

Karumaindo comes as a sinking disappointment when we walk into the bar. Based on the stories I heard, I pictured a dysfunctional, treacherous and extremely seedy joint. I pictured something smoky with patrons all wearing those Kikuyu hats and tapping their pointed-toed boots to Mugithi songs that Wanjohi was to translate. I expected everybody in there to wear loose pleather leather jackets and big golden chains around their necks. In my head, the common word spoken there was going to be cigana?

Instead it isn’t; it’s seedy all right but you don’t get the feeling that danger lurks around. And there isn’t anybody wearing pleather jackets or pointed-toed boots. I’m crushed.

The sitting area is T-shaped. Tables are wedged close to each other with men slumped in them sipping their beers. There are TV screens all over, showing National Geographic, of all the things for crying out loud. The men raptly watch a scene of male Gazelles locking horns. There are old posters on the wall, some still proclaiming Lil Kim as the hottest star. How old is Kim now, 60? Fans whiz overhead. At the end of the room is a cage from where the deejay peeks like a caged psychopath. That cage for some reason reminds me of Hannibal Lector. Sabina Joy is packed. And it smells. Not a foul smell, but this smell of blue-collar struggle.

I order two beers. Wanjohi’s Pilsner comes in this titanic bottle that the size of a rocket launcher. I’m curious to see how he will lift it to his mouth alone. We drink. Girls parade by sipping from plastic bottles. Dodgy looking men pretend to ignore them, like they just came here to watch National Geographic then they will be on their way. Soul music blares from the speakers hanging overhead as 80’s disco lights flash about.

A guy selling boiled eggs stops by our table. We shake our heads, he moves along. Guy selling Kenyan porn next stops by. Again we shake our heads, he moves on. This girl with very dark elbows walks by eyeing us. We shake our heads…at her elbows. We drink and make small talk. My beer is warm; I might as well order a boiled egg to go with it.

At 10pm, I call this girl. You know how Tony Soprano used to call those strippers over? It’s very chauvinistic. It has to be chauvinistic, that’s the only way it can work. But it won’t work at Mercury. It works here because here is ideally a cave and we are all cavemen and the year is, well, what year was Lil Kim a hot commodity?

This girl I summoned wedges between Wanjohi and I and offers me a smile that is supposed to make me imagine that she is shy. Well, she’s as shy as a wolf. She’s light with a decent face but a body that contests that decency; large belly a flat bum, small legs and a tyre around her just in case El Nino rocks up unannounced. You guys, I believe, fondly refer to it as a “Kikuyu body”. Let’s not get emotional. Priss.

She tells me her name is Samantha. No matter, at Karumaindo names mean squat. I tell her I’m Musa.

I offer to buy her beer, she orders for canned Pilsner, which I pop open for her and she raises it up and we knock up in cheers like decent folk. Samantha has this red tattoo of a Playboy bunny on her right breast. Yes, I was looking. They were in my face, OK? What did you want me to look at instead, the Gazelle’s locking horns? I ask her what the tattoo is and she (I swear) holds the whole poor breast up (jeez Samantha, I forgot to mention I like my tea black) and asks, “Hii? Hii ni Playboy, I am a Playgirl.”

“No, you are a bunny,” I correct her.

“Hapana, mimi ni Playgirl,” she insists and I’m not in the mood to debate. Playgirl it is. Samantha is sort of funny. Wanjohi had warned me not to ask questions that would get us stabbed, so I struggled to keep it light and nonchalant. I’ve always wanted to interview a hooker. Or a Madame. Can you imagine the kind of male insecurity stories these women harbour in them? I say insecurity because I think – and I might be right- for you to pay for sex directly (not by buying Pinot noir at Level 8) is a sign of insecurity. For now Samantha will do even though my hands are tied behind my back because Wanjohi is listening.

But I needn’t to because she’s a talker. She tells me that she doesn’t service light older men because she never knew her father and her mother wasn’t sure who her father was and she telling her he was either a Kikuyu one or an Ethiopian.

She laughs a lot and when she does she sort of rams her body playfully into my shoulder, like we grew up together and shit.

The guy selling boiled eggs stops by again and looks at me in case I’ve had a change of heart. I shake my head. He looks over at Samantha who asks me if I want an egg. Well, not the one he is selling, I tell her in Kiswahili and it, unsurprisingly, flies right over her weave.

At some point she removes my hat from my head and asks if I wear hats. I tell her all the damn time. She asks why? I tell her to look tough. Don’t I look tough? She puts it back on my head and takes a good look at me and says no. She asks if she can keep it. I tell her she can if she lets me keep her Playboy bunny. She laughs and rams her shoulder into mine. Then without warning she gets right to it and asks, “sasa itakuwa Kanu ama?”

Kanu? Like Moi Kanu? I’m confused, is this a political parties recruitment drive? I ask her what that is and she laughs and says “Uko na utoto!” I swear to her that I don’t know what she means. She then wags her finger in that Kanu fashion (tingisha kidole fame) and looks at me naughtily. I still don’t get it. Then she wags it again, then I get it and laugh. You get it, too, don’t you? Wagging finger? You get it now? Alama ya jogoo? Anyone?

Sigh. She means sex and her finger is supposed to represent a phallus. These girls are creative.

I ask her how much. She says five hundred. I snort and tell her she is out of her mind, I aint paying 500bob, not with that belly on you, baby! OK, that last bit I think to myself. She says that’s the going rate. I talk her down to 300bob just to test my negotiation skills, or her desperation level. She tells me there are rooms on the same floor that go for 200bob for 20mins. There, she says, you are timed, which I gather means no foreplay or asking stupid questions like “how was your day today?” I ask her to come get me in 45mins that I need to discuss business with my pal first. She leaves obediently. Wanjohi and I sneak out 20mins later.

After all I heard Sabina Joy didn’t make look at life different or give me any unique insight into humanity or the trade of flesh. It didn’t illuminate me or the people I saw. It didn’t bubble to the surface my sense of morality. I didn’t find it gritty or profound or humbling in its decadence. Actually it disappointed me. Cheated me. Raised my hope then dashed it. Maybe it’s because I’m jaded by such novelty. Or maybe it’s the first impression I got when we walked in; that image of grown men watching gazelle’s lock horns on National Geographic. Has foreplay sunk to such lows?

[Photo credit: Agence VU’]
138 Responses
  • Rono
    02.12.2013

    Brilliant piece as ever, still doesn’t beat the Sailors one though




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  • Muthoni
    02.12.2013

    Bikozulu is back.You have made my afternoon. High five your friend.Karumaindo has been there since God was a teenager, Jezebel hangs her bra at Karumaindo, girls with faces only a mother can love..eh Biko Cigana…really stood out




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  • Isz
    02.12.2013

    goodness….with a face only a mother can love….awesome writing. and yes, got the same feeling when i visited the place, Like watching Man U draw with Cardiff….such an anti climax.




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  • nyankash
    02.12.2013

    very insightful. was there once and my expectations were dazed




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  • Karimi
    02.12.2013

    Chuckle!




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  • Kim (@2FingersKenya)
    02.12.2013

    Last and most important rule of that place & Florida’s ‘leave no man behind’.

    Even if the guy insists you get him out of the door, then you have done all you can, he can return of his own volition on his own.




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  • Savvy
    02.12.2013

    I went there once, yes to SJ: http://reallyclueless.wordpress.com/2012/01/13/guest-post-savvy/




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  • Turkish Fish Baiter
    02.12.2013

    Nice piece……Sabina….The only place where you spend more time watching and holding your drink more than anything else. But please Biko,watch your grammar..




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  • MDM
    02.12.2013

    If it was Noah’s time Samantha wouldn’t have worried that she wasn’t in the ark..hehe..funny piece man




    1
  • Magunga
    02.12.2013

    Kaitheri Primary School- that school wouldn’t survive in Luo Nyanza..




    1
    • toughone
      03.12.2013

      Lol




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    • Midhiero
      09.12.2013

      Hahahahaha




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  • gitts
    02.12.2013

    Great piece, now I know where to catch natgeo ! 🙂




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    • Basil
      04.01.2014

      I hear you on that




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  • mulwa j
    02.12.2013

    I ask her what the tattoo is and
    she (I swear) holds the whole poor breast up
    (jeez Samantha, I forgot to mention I like my
    tea black…. Funniest Ish I have ever read!!!




    1
    • jakasaga
      02.12.2014

      Joram! Sabina joy! 1998! Still the same place!




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    • trintrin
      16.02.2016

      *I forgot to mention I like my tea black* this should be the punch line but I don’t get it. Please explained to me. Sorry, I’m dumb (._.)




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  • SKS
    02.12.2013

    “At some point she removes my hat from my head and asks if I wear hats” Did she really? Jezebel hangs her bra at Karumaindo 🙂




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  • driva tuktuk mtukutu!
    03.12.2013

    Yeah Biko.Foreplay has sunk that low…and such is life in our times.. You’re a wordsmith boy!Ati Karumaindo has been there since God was a teenager! he he..




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  • pundi
    03.12.2013

    Great!




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  • holomisa
    03.12.2013

    Many years ago as students we visited Karumaindo. One of the guys prepositioned to one of the hookers for sex. The hooker asked : how much do you have? The guy : sina chochote. the Hooker: and how dare you get a hard-on? ( well she said in Kikuyu: Na ugokia?).




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    • Gamal
      03.12.2013

      The hooker asked : how much do you have? The guy : sina chochote. the Hooker: and how dare you get a hard-on? ( well she said in Kikuyu: Na ugokia?).- Dead!!




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    • ndiransh
      11.12.2013

      #holomisa. I preposition people all the time. I prepositioned the waitress who served my lunch 2 hours ago. I told her to place the chapo beside the plate of ndengu. Then I prepositioned my boss when he asked where the report was. It was on his desk!!!!! and I’ll definitely preposition my sister when I see her later. She always asks where the remote is and it’s always on the bookshelf. Always!!!!!




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    • G_Mufasa
      26.08.2014

      @holomisa, Lmao! you are mad!




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    • axio
      22.01.2016

      lo




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  • Project 44
    03.12.2013

    Hilarious and witty as usual!

    That ‘defuncteness’ of Shompole is sad but we accepted and moved on….

    Re the names of the schools, a drive along the Eastern bypass will make you feel sorry for the children attending some of the schools there…Mihang’o Primary School, etc

    http://project44eveandadam.wordpress.com/2013/11/04/tell-them/




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  • September
    03.12.2013

    Biko a pal of mine says you should come meet Kikuyu chics from Kabete n maybe you will adjust that description of a Kikuyu body….i loved the piece though…humor all over




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  • Mutonyi
    03.12.2013

    Went there when I was in cole we used to call it Hall 14 HA! I disliked it coz i aint the kind of guy who buys what I can get for free [or so I think].




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  • Thesalimkip
    03.12.2013

    Amazing piece…lost for words…




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  • Walubengo
    03.12.2013

    ….”I meet up with Wanjohi and together we walk down Kimathi Street, cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton and past the statue of Tom Mboya that stands forlornly in the dark pointing towards statehouse…” Uhuru Highway at Hilton? You need to know that side of Nairobi dude. Awesome piece as always.




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    • Kuria
      03.12.2013

      That got me confused also




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  • Sylvia
    03.12.2013

    Interesting ,totally enjoyed it!! Faces only a mother can love,girls with teeth from Nakuru……mean!! 🙂




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  • Stuart Ominja
    03.12.2013

    Beautiful Piece. Biko, where did you go to school? I bet 90% of boys who went to high school in Nairobi or any male student who went University of Nairobi (especially upto late 90s) has spent considerable amount of time in SJ.

    I spend a good time there. My 4 friends had girlfriends. What you may not know is also SJ girls move to other joints later at night. We would pass by SJ early in the evening, then go to the “nicer” joint and find the same hookers at the same time.

    Anyway, the legend is the last time Sabina was closed was during 1982 coup! And it’s one of the highest beer selling bars in Nairobi, only second to Simmers!




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  • Kym
    03.12.2013

    Don’t get the disappointed ending or the moral ambivalence……SJ is gritty and profound…..because of Gazelles locking horns….




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  • Ciku Kimani
    03.12.2013

    As usual, totally entertained! But you should have paid her something for her trouble… She did teach you a few things!




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    • General Zod
      05.12.2013

      I thought so too!




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  • zack
    03.12.2013

    Nice piece, man, you should write a novel




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    • erick
      06.12.2013

      i completely agree,saying biko has talent is understatement…




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  • GVNR
    03.12.2013

    Nice one. Not sure I understand the South of Limpopo part… are you not referencing its location to Kenya?




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    • Mo
      23.01.2016

      Thought about it too. It has 2 possible interpretations. Kenya is north of Limpopo but maybe he is comparing to talent south of Limpopo. Ama Biko ulitaka kutumia hiyo phrase so bad, LOL.




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  • Joe Mugendi
    03.12.2013

    Biko, did you visit the urinal in that place? The whores along the corridor are bold! The last time my friend lured me there, i walked along the corridor to the urinal. One of the whores sensed my ‘virginity’ regarding this place. She grabbed my crotch (almost exactly like michael jackson used to do it), then smiling brazenly said “Twende shot!”. I froze, gave her a murderous look, and disappeared down that winding staircase. My friend laughs at me to this day. Heck, the hooker laughed too. I ain’t going there ever again




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    • General Zod
      05.12.2013

      Joe, Michael Jackson used to grab your crotch?




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    • Joe Mugendi
      05.12.2013

      @General Zod
      If you used to watch MJs electrifying performances, then you would noticed that he had a thing for his crotch. Imagine some hooker doing that on you as if she has just dropped her purse in your boxers! You too will do something to save your lineage….sorry,balls.




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  • Odysseus
    03.12.2013

    Did my rounds there on Friday…..thought i imagined sporting a ‘brainy’ head huddled in some corner!! That was You!!




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  • Joe Mugendi
    03.12.2013

    foreplay has sunk to such lows that potential clients watch gazelles lock horns on Nat. Geo before they procure some human flesh! haha Biko you nailed it with this sad observation.
    Students are the people to find in such places most of the times. Check out a similar story here
    http://joemugendi.blogspot.com/2013/11/raves-and-storytellers-of-koinange.html#.Up3V2NmqodU




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  • SHIRLEY
    03.12.2013

    ”I snort and tell her she is out of her mind, I aint paying 500bob, not with that belly on you, baby! OK, that last bit I think to myself”
    as usual Biko you never disappoint. Loved this piece.




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  • Irene
    03.12.2013

    Amazing stuff!!!my day has been made! 🙂




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  • sammy
    03.12.2013

    Biko are you new in Nairobi? You have never gone to SJ? from this sentence you must be new in nairobi “…. we walk down Kimathi Street, cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton” – See more at: http://bikozulu.co.ke/sabina-joy/#sthash.b8hOxhSZ.dpuf

    Uhuru highway is the road passing between parliament and uhuru park




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    • bikozulu
      03.12.2013

      I know, Sammy. I know. 




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    • Tulia
      03.12.2013

      Had to go back and read the sentence. I gerrit 🙂 the Uhuru Highway part. Clever 🙂




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    • Magunga
      03.12.2013

      He must have meant Moi Avenue, donge Biko?




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    • Tulia
      04.12.2013

      Or the Dedan Kimathi statue and the millions that cross this place could make it represent Uhuru highway, donge Biko? 🙂




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    • Gaya
      18.02.2014

      So I went to confirm if SJ had been relocated….still same place from campus days




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    • Me
      20.02.2014

      And Tom Mboya does not point towards State House, he points towards Tok Komwanda, or city stadium. It has become a shrine for the Gor Mahia faithful




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  • Shiko-Msa
    03.12.2013

    Ithe Kahuno, Kiangoma and Gathuki Mundu – These schools are all close to my home in shags. That Riamukurwe can’t be too far either seeing that I’m from Mukurwe-ini. Thumbs up to my village naming system 😀

    Gathuki is a a tree stump. Gathuki mundu is a tree stump that looks like a human being.

    Kiangoma Secondary has since changed its name to Mukurwe-ini Boys High.




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  • alibaba
    03.12.2013

    Sabina Joy AKA karumaindo.

    did wanjohi tell you what karumaindo means?




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  • mlefu
    03.12.2013

    Ha..

    one word comment.




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    • Magunga
      03.12.2013

      actually those are fourwords




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  • abg
    03.12.2013

    “it’s revered for its licentiousness; it’s total lack of sympathy to the naïve or the urban-virgins. Depending on whom you ask, it’s the den of thieves and the spot in town where Jezebel hangs her bra. Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi.”

    “/




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  • Andrew Apudo
    03.12.2013

    North or South of Limpopo ?! he he




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  • Willy
    03.12.2013

    Brilliant humorous piece; got me laughing all through. Your descriptive writing is next to no other.




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  • Mike
    03.12.2013

    “girls with teeth from Nakuru, girls with breasts that can asphyxiate you, girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them…. Sawa Boss, you totally killed it yet again!




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  • Chiconthrift
    04.12.2013

    Great as always, saw the title and was excited finally! An anti climax I must say, national geographic????

    http://www.chic-on-thrift.blogspot.com




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    • Edward Olumola
      27.05.2014

      You write very well…you remind me of George Ogutu – NMG.
      Well, thank you for the interview today. The Tourism industry is struggling but we can all do something, great work at Travel Africa!




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  • jyoki
    04.12.2013

    You cracked me open.Your description of kikuyus,loool.N be advised Samantha’s body is two in every kikuyus.
    Awesome post!




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  • Jacob Aliet
    04.12.2013

    As usual, nice one. Some nitpics (sorry if they have already been pointed out):

    Not scored but scoured.
    You cant “cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton” because Hilton is far from Uhuru Highway. I would have suggested Intercon but you mention Tom Mboya’s statue.




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  • Butterscotch
    04.12.2013

    You, Biko, are a very witty man.




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  • Njeri
    04.12.2013

    Lmao. Day made, great piece 😀

    Leave our kikuyu bodies out of this 0_o




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  • dex
    05.12.2013

    used to go there while in university.
    I used to have a hoocker friend who understood I didnt have much money.
    She would steal from her clients (pick pocket in the process of caresing) and we would drink the proceeeds




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    • Mo
      23.01.2016

      Ehhh Dex hiyo ni over hustling yawa. Unakunywa za




      0
  • The Reader
    05.12.2013

    this was really funny…especially the “That’s how life is; you wake up hoping to see the glorious sunset instead you get your sun blocked by a naked man. And you dare complain about traffic? – “….made my afternoon..




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  • Miss Belyon
    05.12.2013

    great piece of writing as usual




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  • Kevo
    06.12.2013

    Gudu one




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  • candy
    06.12.2013

    i wonder how u even come up with phases like “where jezebel hangs her bra” and “when God was a teenager” maybe the latter would rattle some religious folks. excellent read,,,i will go to sabina joy and make my own observations




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  • kevin
    06.12.2013

    Dead!!!!




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  • Waringa wa Mugo
    07.12.2013

    This did me in…

    “girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them.”

    You should go back and pay Samantha for her time.. Even 150 shillings will do..




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  • sheilah
    07.12.2013

    Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi
    You guys I believe, fondly refers to it as a ” Kikuyu body”. Let’s not get emotional.Priss

    Always a joy to read your blogs




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  • juddy
    07.12.2013

    A well written piece as always. I have actually gone all the way to your first post. This blog should be printed out as a book….”a face that only a mother can love” “where Jezebel hangs her bra” Cant stop laughing!




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  • @JadeJela
    08.12.2013

    You walk along Kimathi street and cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton????? Am lost!!!!!




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    • bikozulu
      09.12.2013

      I could have edited out that error but it would make some comments here redundant. So I let it stay. 




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  • Eva (@EvaDiiva)
    08.12.2013

    Great LOL moments from this piece.
    Are women allowed to go to this SJ place? Need to see to believe some things coz eish…




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  • Esquire
    09.12.2013

    That okuyu body is called the Waithera Syndrome…




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    • Martin nderu
      22.01.2016

      aki woiye




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  • Shazz
    10.12.2013

    (I forgot to mention I like my tea black).
    Awesome read as always!




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  • Robert
    10.12.2013

    Once again Biko has done it again —- it’s the den of thieves and the spot in town where Jezebel hangs her bra. Karumaindo swallows the innocent and spits them out baptised in the roguish ways of Nairobi.




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  • Janet.
    10.12.2013

    Lol…. Mate you have made my day. “You guys, I believe, fondly refer to it as a “Kikuyu body”. Let’s not get emotional. Priss.” Great read!!!!




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  • Eunice
    10.12.2013

    Girls parade by sipping from plastic bottles. Dodgy looking men pretend to ignore them, like they just came here to watch National Geographic then they will be on their way.

    This girl I summoned wedges between Wanjohi and I and offers me a smile that is supposed to make me imagine that she is shy. Well, she’s as shy as a wolf.

    Great piece Biko.




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  • ndiransh
    11.12.2013

    Went there once because that’s what you do if you’re a regular guy who’s spent any reasonable amount of time in Nairobi.

    Went back to confirm what I experienced the first time round. I think it’s the saddest joint in Nairobi.




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  • Jossy
    12.12.2013

    I couldn’t stop laughing . great piece .




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  • Pamela
    13.12.2013

    Great read Biko.where jezebel hangs her brag




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  • Opiyo
    13.12.2013

    another day, another masterpiece.
    although for all your poetic aptitude, am afraid you missed the nuance in that KANU metaphor. if you hang around hos more, you might come to overstand it someday.
    keep em coming though! and write a book please




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  • Rhoda
    14.12.2013

    As always an enchanting blend of wit, humor and more wit 🙂




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  • Zanze
    17.12.2013

    When I grow up I want to write just like you. Great story.

    zanzerose.blogspot.com




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  • Neyma
    19.12.2013

    Good piece…




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  • Mtu Flani
    19.12.2013

    Musa, I see you haven’t lost your edge. More than anything, I think people seek your words for the humor. You do it well. Btw, it appears there is now more than one Mtu Flani among the commentators. It’s the only kind of flattery that irritates me. Jesus, you dont have to be very imaginative to create your own monikers people!




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  • Gema
    31.12.2013

    Great piece….can,t stop laughing.

    ” I call this girl. You know how Tony
    Soprano used to call those strippers over? It’s
    very chauvinistic. It has to be chauvinistic, that’s
    the only way it can work. But it won’t work at
    Mercury. It works here because here is ideally a
    cave and we are all cavemen and the year is,
    well, what year was Lil Kim a hot commodity? “




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  • SalsaS88
    05.01.2014

    Great read Biko. 500 bob?? Unbelievable.




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  • Renee
    06.01.2014

    Eish Biko, the silence on the blog is too loud it deafens!!!!!!




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  • KG
    13.01.2014

    Always a pleasure BIKO!!!




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  • Manyala
    15.01.2014

    This Poem was conceived and born at Karumaindo. Talking Eyes >> http://otiatopali.blogspot.com/2011/09/talking-eyes.html

    And your friend was right, you are lost into the middle class. You never saw any thieves male or female yet they are there plenty plenty. You dint see the seasoned whore, the new whore, the bar man who’s seen it all, the guy who cant buy and therefore ends up wanking at the urinal, the whores at the corridors who drag you by the balls etc. You went in with a closed mind.




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  • Patricia Liébanas
    15.01.2014

    Hello,
    My name is Patricia Liébanas and I get in touch with you because we would like to count on your participation for an advertising campaign about a company we think you can find interesting.
    If interested, please get back at me as soon as possible for further details.
    We would like to count on you in this campaign as well as in the future.

    Regards,
    Patricia




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  • esther
    17.01.2014

    Yes, I was looking. They were in my face, OK? What did you want me to look at instead, the Gazelle’s locking horns?
    Love your sense of humor
    Brilliant!!!!!




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  • Kame
    19.01.2014

    Guys! guys!! I think we left Biko behind in 2013; sprawled out in Sabina joy.. Or maybe he went back for Samantha and got devored by a wolf,,, (the way he kept talking of that bunny…!? Sigh..) Someone please go find him… We miss him here… .




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  • Maish
    21.01.2014

    Interesting read! Now you should attend some political rally or the ‘bei ya unga’ Demo’s and write about it!

    http://www.markmaish.com




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  • Sly
    24.01.2014

    Haha!! Holds the whole poor breast..perhaps that was a form of foreplay.
    This story reminded me of an unexpected encounter I had..

    http://loungersperch.wordpress.com/2013/01/28/the-day-i-said-no-to-a-stripper/




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  • Nkatha
    29.01.2014

    Biko. Get out of that shell!
    Stories we can’t tell with our eyes open.
    We miss you.




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  • danson
    29.01.2014

    Aiiii Biko, please write, anything! Even a haiku will suffice!




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  • Irene
    31.01.2014

    oh Biko, you nailed it !! Got out of your shell and scored a big one!! You made my day, its been a tough week and i had some much needed belly laughs!!!




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  • Banks
    01.02.2014

    Dear Principal Biko

    We, the very obedient students of the high school are wondering where you have been. u see, since we reported this yr, we’ve been wondering if the school closed without our knowledge, or maybe u got transferred by the DEO due to sexual harrassment as has been the fate of other principals et cetra. u see sir, we are lost and delusional without you. Because no one else can tell stories so simple…………

    Regards,
    Concerned Student.




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  • Rackel
    14.02.2014

    KANU…. haahahhahahahaha nice one. just made my day




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  • Eric M
    17.02.2014

    Omera,

    You’ve left me in stitches- I’m still not sure that it ended as you put it. Did you really leave after 20mins? or was it 200mins later? Dude, please this story like it should.




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  • Mwanaa Reginah
    18.02.2014

    Then she wags it again, then I get it and laugh. You get it, too, don’t you? Wagging finger? You get it now? Alama ya jogoo? Anyone? hehehehe, karumaido, gai fafa, u r soo funny

    http://techballl.wordpress.com/




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  • Wambo
    13.03.2014

    That was a trip to Karumaindo and back, Atleast that’s how it felt!




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  • Warui
    16.03.2014

    Nice piece




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  • El Scorpio
    29.05.2014

    Mtwapa is where you need to visit Biko.




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  • abdulrahman ndegwa
    31.05.2014

    great Writing, i love the way you knit your words and expressions together into an amazing story. This reminded of the many trips i made to sabina joy way back then, just to pee…ok, more than peeing….high school was rifw with raunchy stories of sabina joy. lakini uoga nayo?




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  • Masharia Kanyari
    06.06.2014

    this is good, no really- never has the Kuyu female form been described more apropiately; and priss, just so we’re clear I’m kuyu so spare me the lynch mob.




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  • Anthony Maseki
    18.09.2014

    Hahahahahaha Boss you have come a long way since you used to write those article for us in the office every Friday Afternoon….. remember? Now if you want a real story like this talk to me I will take you to a place that afterwards you will run to church and pray hard!!! Again Nice one bro




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  • Vincent Opiyo
    19.09.2014

    “cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton and past the statue of Tom Mboya that stands forlornly in the dark pointing towards statehouse ” this doesn’t sound right at all




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  • soliloqueen
    14.10.2014

    Don’t do anything that will get you stabbed… that just floored me hahahahahh. Brilliant mind you have there, hilarious!




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  • Kenn65
    09.02.2015

    Okay, this post has covered it all, except for some minor corrections. First, the caged DJ that this article talks about is not caged anymore. Instead, this has changed to a more fancier location — no cage anymore.

    Again, there are no more old posters on the walls as the place has gotten a completely new makeover. See more information on http://goo.gl/WHfkna to get a feel of how things are changing so fast.




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  • Josh13
    28.07.2015

    Paying for sex isn’t necessarily a sign of insecurity. It means you want a service that compliments what you already have, and are willing enough to assist a fellow Kenyan get a living. Heck, sex paid for sometimes is cool and gives you exactly what you are paying for.




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  • Ken
    22.01.2016

    Hahahahahaha, this got me laughing.’……There are girls writhing around in what in this part of town passes for sexy. Fat girls, slim girls, light girls, dark girls, pretty girls, girls with faces only a mother can love, girls with faces that can fit at Brew Bistro, girls in heels and girls in sandals, girls with long weave, bald girls, girls with talons for toes, dusty-footed girls, red eyed girls, girls with red lips, smiling girls, scowling girls, girls with teeth from Nakuru, girls with breasts that can asphyxiate you, girls with chests so flat you can shoot pool on them…then iron your shirt off them. They all have one thing in common; they are here for you. At a price.’ haha hahaha. boss we (Nakuru Residents) should sue the now defunct Nakuru Municipal Council for their inhumane act of giving us poor quality water even though some of us were able to leave unscathed. I enjoyed the piece,Funnyman. ..




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  • Wangari
    22.01.2016

    “……because the quest for the pleasures of the flesh is a journey pursued alone”. Damn!!




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  • Kennedy
    22.01.2016

    Should they do porn for foreplay?




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  • ovie
    22.01.2016

    Hehehe




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  • Anne
    22.01.2016

    hahaaa…ati na ugokia…dead!!!




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  • Martin nderu
    22.01.2016

    Great, sabina joy iko wapi




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  • Samwel Dollah
    23.01.2016

    Am just curious and wondering where is your friend?Yes the one who took you,did he get a better price than you like 150? or all this time you busy studying the bunny he has been sleeping on your shoulder as a result of kamchele?




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  • Brian
    23.01.2016

    I found the bit about “KANU” hilarious




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  • dann
    23.01.2016

    I love your pieces.imaginative and real.plus the language.I have read you pieces over n over again.loved the piece about your divorcee friend.drinking whisky at his humble abode brought memories.wise words.am always looking forward to your columns both on nation n msafiri.nice work




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  • Ritchie
    25.01.2016

    Biko, I think the “middle-class sympathizer” tag got the best out of you. How could you “… cross Uhuru Highway at Hilton and past the statue of Tom Mboya …?” Anyway, it is a nice piece just like they always come. Btw, has foreplay sunk to such lows? You signed it off with your usual loaded punch lines. I swear I didn’t know that grown ass men nowadays watch gazelles locking horns on Nat Geo as part of their foreplay regimen.




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  • alex
    02.05.2016

    still in stitches




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  • Giddy
    23.05.2016

    This is a hilarious piece




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  • kevinsky
    11.09.2016

    Can’t stop laughing..i’ll read it over and over again




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  • Oyoo Daktari
    22.11.2017

    Omera,ayie




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