Ladies, before you turn to give your attention to that beautiful soul on the streets of Nairobi, please ensure that you are indeed dealing with someone who is genuinely in need. How you get to know if they are genuine or not is up to you and whoever you worship.
Last weekend, on a slow Sunday, I was walking lazily on one of the streets in town... I mean everything was moving quite slow, from the loud music that was playing in the shops to the street children who were innocently tagging along anyone and everyone asking for 'pesa ya chai'.
I usually look into their eyes and wonder why their parents leave them to go after people as they watch from a distance then quickly reappear and grab everything from them - if at all the children succeed.
Anyway, just as I was swinging my hips past the National Archives (yes I have hips), this sweet little boy ran after me and as I looked into his eyes and lent him my ears, he quickly kicked my foot and shouted, "Antie nisaidieko elfu moja."
At first I thought I had heard my own things and beckoned him to repeat what he had said. Confidently, he said the same thing.
My heart started racing. Why exactly would a random child be asking for a thousand shillings? Had tea suddenly become that expensive? Having heard numerous stories about people who make you lose your mind in the streets of this city, I dashed in the nearest fast food joint, almost spraining my ankle.
I was convinced the child was up to no good. He probably had some substance that would confuse me and make me follow him all the way to God-knows-where.
After I entered the joint, I turned to look for the boy but he was nowhere to be seen. Seriously, he couldn't have disappeared into the crowd since there was barely a crowd to begin with.
I tried to figure out where he was hiding but my imagination could not go past the Tom Mboya statue.
This reminded me of my friend Priscah who was once approached by a boy, aged about 10 years. He asked her what the color of her handbag was. Being a nice lady, she figured the boy just wanted to practice what he had learnt at school.
She innocently engaged the young boy in a conversation and before she knew it, she was somewhere in one of the public toilets all alone and without her handbag.
It was very early in the morning. Actually, it was still a little bit dark and she had just arrived in the city on a bus from the Coast. That is how she lost all her original documents ranging from her identification card to her latest academic certificate since she was coming to the city for a job interview.
All she remembers is walking with the boy all the way to the public toilet. She asked him to hold her bag and went in even though she was not pressed and needed to answer the call of nature.
Less than three minutes after entering the toilet, she came to her senses and realised she was squatting with all her clothes on.
How it all happened is a mystery not just to her but to all of us in her small circle of friends. Unfortunately, ladies are more at risk. I just don't know who told them that we are the movers and shakers of the economy.
