Three years ago I stayed with my best friend Mike in Thigiri for two months while our house was getting renovated. I was ensconced at the lavish poolside guest suite at the back of the main house separated from the domestic servant quarters by a large cabro-paved courtyard.
Mike’s two angelic offspring are my cherished godchildren and at the time they had an au pair, a young woman from a neighbouring French-speaking country. Mike and Zawadi just wanted their kids to get a head start in life from speaking a foreign language. The au pair’s name was Brigitte and she used to sleep in the domestic servants’ quarters 20 metres or so from my suite.
One breezy night I was startled by an urgent tapping on the bedroom window to spy Brigitte standing outside in the leafy shadows. I thought she looked petrified so I said come to the door and then I got out of the cosy warm bed in my pyjamas after I deftly shut my proscribed-in-Kenya gay porn mag and slipped it under the mattress. When she came to the door I saw Brigitte only had on a deliciously flimsy lavender-coloured see-through nightie more like a mini-camisole and nothing else under. And I mean nothing. Picture that sight because it really happened but then I thought, wait a minute, am I imagining things but I wasn’t imagining because she was there in the flesh and I hadn’t had a drink (hard for some to believe but true). I asked her what’s the matter and she said she was so afraid to sleep in her room alone because she’d eyed a monster spider careening under her bed.
Now, I totally understand the fear of arachnids and other creepy crawlies so I caught her arm said you better come inside quickly and get out of harm’s way. I closed the door and said I’ll go wake Mike and ask him what to do but she sshh-shhed me and whispered hoarsely (excuse me but I’ll do my best to do the accent):
‘No need to coll Mr Mike, Tamakuh. Of al’ ze men I’ve met since I come to Kenyah, therez sam-sing spécial that…how do you say?….. ooo- la- la….draws me like a magnet to you….aaahh. Me and you…we spend ze night togezzer and no ozer personne needs to know I promesse, non?’
So flattering these French-accented lovelies, but oh so, so unfair. Why, why, why knock on the wrong door? Why would it not have been a monsieur kneeling before me asking me about suckin ze kok..
She was standing right up close her eyes flickering wildly like fireflies and I was gulping the night air ogling her goodies. I sink ze fear of ze spider and ze cold July night had made ze nipples stand all sharp and pointy like…
That’s when the penny dropped. But you know me I always do as I’m telled (new English word, lol!)and don’t like to disappoint anyone, least of all damsels in disdress, so I said it’s a very generous offer but not here and not tonight my dear. If you like you can have ze warm bed and I’ll sleep on ze couch. This is what we did until the next morning when I woke up to find she’d gone.
Later that day I called the house from the office to speak to Brigitte. I told her she was absolutely gorgeous but I didn’t think anything should happen between the two of us because of too many complications but I was happy for us to remain friends. Brigitte was taking none of it lying down, she asked me sweetly why not, could we not be friends with benefeets or what you call in English buck fuddies? (opps there’s a spoonerism just for you!) I said I’ve thought long and hard (lies) - but I don’t want to use you and end up hurting your feelings (trues)…I remember also using other words like ‘respect’, 'frogs and princes' and ‘commitment’…blah blah blah. After that we shook hands mentally and agreed to just be friends.
It all turned out well in the end. Brigitte soon met up with one of her compatriots who swept her off her feet in a Mills and Boon with violins-in-the-background romance style. Last year they went back home and now I’m invited to the Land of a Thousand Hills for their wedding later this year.
I’m happy that we were able to develop and maintain such a wonderful friendship to this day.