Here is the thing; campus girls do not come cheap. At least not the ones in my campus. Even those who just shipped in from upcountry and have a problem with their ‘r’s and ‘l’s have a price; and that number is not the standard price of fries and chicken in town. Before you bed a campus girl you have to your wallet dry. To get laid, they have to get paid, either in cash or in kind. A dude has to part considerably with his pocket money, and it’s funny the way we spend so much for that one night of bliss- or five seconds of pleasure- depending on one’s agility.
Some want to be taken out on dates at the Sankara rooftop; while others would make do with a picnic at Uhuru Park. Others prefer the hostel room home-made dinner while the rest (quite a good number) are bedded after a randy night out at Westie. Alcohol and poor judgment has always been the recipe that never disappoints to serve a delicious one night stand. Whatever’s your brand of whiskey, the bottom line is that money has to be spent before you finally get to rip open a government subsidized condom in the dark.
But that’s just with Nairobi campus girls. Apparently, in coast, they cost way less nowadays. The last time I was there, a Swahili hooker asked me to bed her for Ksh. 10,000. Mind you, I am human being. I do not know what happened between then and now, but from what I am getting from the papers and twitter timeline is that they cost Ksh. 3,000, and (wait for it) that’s the much they are willing to take to sleep with a dog. German Shepherd to be precise.
Everyone went gaga on top of their moral high horses when the Campus divas for rich men story went public. Now they cringe at the thought of Campus divas for rich dogs, and pretend not to see that the common denominator here is the money.
Its notable how the people who were most offended by this tale were us men. We couldn’t just imagine that a dog would beat us at our own game. It’s all about wounded pride and blistered ego. And to let it sink in our minds that a beast with no reason could outwit us in this chase for the ladies folk is as enjoyable as swallowing an unpeeled pineapple. So we took the moral high ground and called the very same grapes we once long for sour.
However, the fact still remains that a campus girls’ knickers cannot withstand the trumpets of a rich man (or dog) no more than could the walls of Jericho.