I have previously had that sex trade is rife at the coast, but I never realised just how bad the situation is until recently. I have been to the coast a few times before, always accompanied by a boyfriend. So, I was never a victim of any sordid offer. Last weekend, I decided to go on an impromptu solo vacation and was appalled at how prevalent the sex trade is. I was at the coast for 72 hours, and eight total strangers tried to pimp me out. It is akin to how hawkers try to sell you their merchandise in the street of Nairobi. Bartenders and cab drivers double as pimps at the coast.
I know that to get a sponsor in Nairobi requires effort. You have to venture out to upscale entertainment joints frequented by tourists and expatriates. Drinks at these high-end establishments don’t come cheap, so you must have at least a little bit of money. On top of that, you have to go through the hellish task of getting one to actually notice you. There will be plenty of other women there on the same mission as you, so you have to stand out. You are bound to strike out a couple of times and end up going home disappointed and a few hundred shillings poorer. Yikes! All that work and it is not even a guarantee that you will get lucky.
In Mombasa, however, all you have to do is be there and willing. As soon as I touched down at the airport, I was bombarded with offers to be hooked up with old rich wazungu left, right and centre. As soon as settled in the taxi, my driver asked if I was alone. I told him I was. He went on to tell me that he could hook me up with a stinking rich old European man who was staying at a popular five-star resort. He assured me that the mzungu would take real good care of me. He told me that he had taken girls to him before and they hadn’t been disappointed. I was scandalised and sternly told him I wasn’t interested. He wasn’t convinced. He insisted I take his number and give him a call in case I changed my mind. I declined and heaved a sigh of relief when we finally arrived at my hotel. Little did I know that that was just the beginning of my troubles.
After freshening up, I went to the bar to get a drink and something to eat. As soon as I settled at the bar, the bartender came over and introduced himself. Following the script as the bartender, he enquired whether I was at the hotel alone andafter confirming I was, he started telling me of yet another mzungu who needed company and would “take care of me”. I dismissed him and moved to another table. Throughout the trip, more taxi drivers and bartenders tried to pimp me out. I couldn’t wait to get back to Nairobi!
So, listen up Nairobi light skins looking for white sugar daddies. Drop whatever you are doing and head to the coast. It is raining sponsors! The best part is there will be literally no effort on your part!