The Massai Gigolos

The air is filled with soft jazz music as the cool breeze of evening flushed the atmosphere and the gentle waves washes the salt water back and forth in a rhythmic sequence that seemed to flow with the music.

On the shores of Diani Beach in Mombasa stood many structures, simplistic in nature, beach houses, lodges, bars and restaurants. It was an ideal place for a vacation. No much wonder most of the people in the bar at Forty Thieves tonight are foreigners. The ambience is cool and serene. As people retired from the beach to the bar, still clad in their swim wear with a towel around their bodies, the bartender hands them a glass of drink on request and they take their seats. In a corner, a group of people making acquaintance of one another and sharing a conversation, on another end of the bar, some others sat alone staring into the open space, staring at the sun as it slowly dissipated into the clouds.

George, a 28-year-old man sat at the bar that evening, with legs crossed, occasionally sipping his soda from a glass. It appears he was waiting for someone. Very colorful beads hung around his neck and hand, with a piece of yellow clothing with safari prints wrapped around his waist, his bare chest clearly visible under the beads on his neck. From his dressing you could tell that he is from the Massai tribe of Kenya. He slowly wiggled his head at the sound of jazz. Shortly after, he was tapped on the shoulder; it was Donald, his friend. He stood up and they shook hands then sat back as Donald also took a seat beside him and ordered a bottle of soda for himself. They chatted away.

Moments later, two women in their early 50s walked into the bar. They went straight to George and Donald. One kissed Donald on the lips, the other hugged George. They giggled and laughed for about an hour, then walked out of the bar, hand in hand.

Note: This story is a work of fiction. The setting and characters however, are real!

More from aKoma