Hot Kamba lady drives nice quiet man nuts

What is it about Kamba women? Why is it that irrespective of how old or young they are, tribesmates of Charity Ngilu aka mama Rainbow are so blazing hot between the sheets?

That is one mystery that can probably cause endless debate here. But incase you are interested in tying the knot with a Mkamba lady, I have a word of caution for you at the end of my story today, so please stick around.

Scolastica was a woman who was impossible to resist. That is the reason why Robert’s fate was sealed the minute he first saw her at a party at Railways hall along Haile Selassie Avenue in Nairobi. She was a little tipsy and swinging her hips suggestively on the dance floor but dancing with nobody in particular.

Robert was drawn to her like a magnet and could not help himself despite his strong suspicions that she was a prostitute (mainly because of the screaming red lipstick she was wearing too much of). He danced next to her and joined the long list of men who were buying her drinks on that evening. But Robert was the most sober of the lot and definitely the most desperate.

He waited until she inevitably had to visit the ladies and followed her there. He kept vigil outside until she emerged.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Robert told her while blocking her path the minute she emerged.

“About what?” she asked, speaking her English in a heavy Kamba accent.

Robert asked her name which she readily volunteered. She then proceeded to deflect all the other personal questions he tried to ask her.

But his blood really started racing when she leaned on one foot and tilted her head slightly and then asked with an amused look on her face;

“What do you want?”

Looking into her smiling face and laughing eyes you could tell that she knew exactly what Robert wanted so badly. And what was more she seemed pleased that he should want what he wanted. Robert froze. Tongue tied and yet with so much desire in his body. He had never felt like this for a woman before.

“Just tell me what you want,” Scolastica asked him again, as if she was expecting him to confess there and then what he wanted so badly from her.

When she received no answer, she just walked past Robert brushing across his body and went back to the dance floor. As she went past, Robert could not help noticing her scent. It was a scent that he had never noticed in a woman outside a bedroom before. It was the unmistakable smell of sex. Was it from the sweat from the dance floor? Robert would never know.

The rest of the evening was sheer torture for Robert as he watched Scolastica swinging her hips on the dance floor and basically dancing with any man who came her way. Several times she moved closer and closer to a man gyrating her hips suggestively and moved too close only to retreat teasingly just before her body touched his. She left very little to the imagination of the onlookers. However he noticed something odd. Every time a slow number was played that required dance partners to hold each other close, Scolastica would flee the dance floor and disappear. At one point Robert spotted her complaining to the DJ who obliged and the minute the Long Lionel Ritchie song was over, he replaced it with the kind of disco tune the sexy girl wanted to swing her hips to the whole night.

Robert left the minute he saw Scolastica leaving.

“Do you want a lift home?” he asked her.

“Are you a rapist?” she asked and then shrieked in a laugh that was way too loud. That sent Robert’s pulse racing again.

“Where is your car?” she asked suddenly. Robert silently led her to where the Taxis were parked and they both got in as she directed them to an address somewhere in South C. The minute the taxi got there, Scolastica moved with lightening speed. She shoved a piece of paper into Roberts hand and fled from the car, calling over her head; “Call me.”

Robert was left gaping and angrily shoved the piece of paper into his pocket. His extravagance of taking a taxi had not paid off and he felt distressed. He asked the taxi to drive back to town but got off somewhere in the same estate to spend the night at a friend’s place so as to avoid paying the Taxi driver a cent more than was absolutely necessary.

But Robert could think of nothing else. In the morning he called the number from a telephone booth. It appeared to be an Industrial Area number but nobody was picking up the phone. It was Saturday after all.

On Monday as soon as he got to the office, he called the number again. A lady picked up the phone on the second ring;

“Atlas Industries, can I help you?”

He asked to speak to Scolastica and to his surprise he was told to call back after 2 hours which he did and was put through to the woman who could not leave his thoughts. She sounded pleased to hear from him and even thanked him for the ride home.

“Huh, that was nothing,” Robert lied.

Things moved pretty fast after that. She asked for the direction to his office and at 5 PM sharp she was at the office reception high up on one of the floors of the ICEA building along Kenyatta Avenue. She bluntly asked Robert to take her home. Robert shivered with excitement the whole way to his house in Jamuhuri estate. The minute they arrived and shut the front door behind them, they headed straight to the bedroom for the wildest sex Robert had ever experienced. Everything he had heard about Kamba women (and a lot more) was confirmed that day.

She never went home and lived with Robert for about 6 months. He discovered that she was jobless and previously stayed with her sister who worked for Atlas Industries and had answered the phone the day Robert called (there were no cell phones in those days.)

Robert did not understand for a long time why during moments of heightened passion she would tell him to make her pregnant. That sounded rather odd although it drove Robert crazy with desire. He found out towards the end that she had been divorced by the only man she had married because she was not able to conceive and that seemed to haunt her and disturb her a great deal.

Robert’s passionate come-we-stay affair with Scolastica ended when he discovered that she was cheating on him with another man… and tena in his house and on his bed. Details of how he discovered and what exactly happened are not really known. Robert has always told friends that the whole thing hurt him to deeply.

But now comes my warning. Virtually all the married Kamba women I know have been unfaithful to their husbands and some of them are serial adulteresses. In my view the reason for this is historical. It is an old Kamba belief that a woman must have at least one child out of wedlock so that incase a member of the family takes a Kithitu (a Kamba oath that wipes out the whole family if the person taking it is telling a lie in taking the oath or breaks it) then at least that one child (gotten from outside the family) will survive. I believe this is where the ancestral ghosts that haunt Kamba ladies to date came from and that is why they cannot do without sex outside their marriages.

A male friend once told me bluntly, if you are ready to share your wife with all your friends including your cousins and even your brothers, then marry a Kamba girl.

I am not being a tribalist, I am just reporting what I have seen and heard. What do you readers out there think?
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