T h e Psychology of a S i d e - c h i c

Alive at the End of the World.

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There’s Nothing Wrong with Marrying early for your interests and Divorcing a few years later if it doesn’t work. The problem is Women want to be faultless and saints. Marrying and divorcing after 5years is just like being in a relationship for 5 years. Don’t be afraid.

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They would touch me every time we were alone. The first was our houseboy. Then a cousin. Then an older neighbour.
I must have been less than 8 years old, as all this happened before or when I was in Grade 1.
My parents should have been more careful. They should have been wary when people said that I was too bright and mature for my age.
It was very many men, mostly older boys closer to my family. I knew it was wrong, but what would I have done.
Throughout my childhood, we had close to ten male farm hold workers and maybe only two of those did not make advances. All the rest did.
I do not remember being actively penetrated, but I do remember a lot of hu***ng and touching. Flashing of their manhood and be being told to help them rub it.
Once, my other cousins found us out in the bathroom. They probably still remember but nobody has ever mentioned it to date.
My parents were not particularly keen on asking me questions or having conversations around s*x. This s*xual trauma has followed me through my adult life and I feel helpless trying to escape this web.
Parents, please be free with your children. They might be getting s*xually groomed before your very eyes by family and friends.

Tee,
Nairobi.

The Power of Location.
Location is an important aspect in business. In fact, it is the mother aspect. Speaking of which, you will only attract that which lives around you.

Hearing her voice yesterday through the Messenger, I was quite shocked. Her voice sounded very official, almost condescending. Serious even. I could not place it with the narration in my messages. I could not place it. But still,
Nairobi.
"Hi A maiden and thanks for anonymously sharing stories. Do you have an organisation for adults who survived s*x predators when they were children? I am a mother of three, yet still shaken when I remember what happened when I was a little girl in lower grade school. My father would one time employ a Naive farm hand, who with time captured my dad's attention and liking. I was in grade six. And I would be tasked to deliver him food or collect dirty dishes. I have no exact recollection on how it started. But, he was the Intermediary between us, the children, and my father. I lived with my father as they had separated with mother long ago from what rumours still tell as him wanting a woman who'd stay home, and my mum in er stubbornness not agreeing. The farmhand would then proceed to tease me endlessly of how my breasts were poking, and if by any chance I experienced monthly periods....

Nairobi.
"It feels safe that you are anonymous. I will be very brutal with this."
As a young man and a novice in the employment world, I'd never imagine s*xual favours in exchange for work-a narrative I believed only existed in the female world.
You haven't seen it all if a Male CEO in Nairobi hasn't asked you out the first weekend after being posted for work. My work station is along Ngong road, (what a name). I found this job through a referral after hunting for a whole year and as luck would have it I was considered after three interviews. The work environment safe and coy, with an allowance of working from home after the first month. Mine is a male dominated office, a team of 10, out of which only two are female_both married. Out of the other eight, I happen to be the youngest male and the most lightly built.
My first five days were usual orientation by my supervisor, an easy looking guy and quite polite. There was not much to be oriented in Data analysis and by Friday second week of January I was done.
I would be called in by the supervisor and the CEO to do a review of the first week. All went well, and I was even excited at how both kept referring me as young man. I forgot, my supervisor is white. But the CEO a Popular Kenyan man who is quite well known for philanthropy and support to politicians. He requests to hava a word after the review, and as the supervisor walks out, he asks if we could walk out as he was headed to town. I do not drive. We'd drive to Westlands Nairobi and to an exclusive joint along church rd. And there my friend is where I was complimented on my looks and brains and told how far I would go. Problem is I all along thought this was a 'Mentor' thing, to hangout with your boss and talk. But i felt Brilliance leave my head and my nuts shrink on a mans comment on my beauty. He said that it would be low key and nobody would know. Nobody needed to know. That he has a family and a social status and that this would be our alibi. We'd meet at my place once in a while or out of the country for work. The reward? A car of my choice to start with and relocation from Thikka to town. I have never been so scared as a man. We would be later joined by three guys, very popular in my country, over continuos toasts to whisky. I had to fake an emergency as women do, as it was getting very late and I couldn't risk my hind quarters. This was however followed by a money wire of 300dollars. The money I took.
I declined the lover offer, over a summoning in the office as no calls or texts could be made in regard to that communication. Almost two months later, I still work here. He rarely will ask for me, but he still sends me money that I have never asked for. Will I quit? I don't think so. I am faced with a dilemma of poverty, morality and just letting be. It have anxiety as any day could be my last day at work. I do not have much of a voice as the person has power and I do not want to be in a dissapearance act. Men too, are victims of s*xual abuse in the work place. Leave me Anonymous.

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She is from Nairobi Kenya, this friend of mine. She says it is tough, for a village woman adapting to the big city. "Its not easier for men either, but I only have a female experience"
She then narrates the story of a place she calls Tika Road. A tale of numerous night clubs, s*xually starved middle aged married men, and curious young men in their late twenties and early thirties with young money eager to spend it on beautiful women.
"In Tika Road, and especially at night, there's no ugly woman. All of us have bridal equal make up on. Beauty is the defining factor and the nightlife an equaliser since no man cares about your brains at this point."
She narrates that women come out drinking with a myriad of motives. While most are university girls just having fun with their boyfriends, and other quite older h*es making a livelihood, Other women are tactical.
It is easy to spot an emotionally wretched man who is lonely and only wants a great conversation. He is maybe facing a struggle at home with the wife, or it is just a business deal that is stressing him up. He did not come out here to look for women to lay. He came to distract himself. And I know that I have to be his distraction.
It is easy to start a conversation with a man. Usually, I'll offer the man to watch my drink, even if for a minute. One hour later, We'll be talking about inflation and spirituality. The conversation will be great and he will not want to leave, intellectually hooked. This is how i have created a rich social Network, since Linkedin is quite tough for a woman who has not managed to catch the eyes of the Media yet.
These friends give me business deals and have mentioned my name in great places.
When I ask if s*x has ever been part of the question, she says that " It has never been"
She claims that the basic Kenyan chiq in Quivers will only drink and shout "sisi ni walevii' instead of looking out for herself.
She concludes, "The world is unfair and unkind enough,be kind to yourself and realise that the world is an ongoing market place. You have to learn to negotiate right."
She works in Ireland and sends greetings.

And when the storm happens, do not despair. Calm is next.

She says that she did not realise his seriousness when he said that they'd only have fun. She was 16, and naive. And did not know that This Fun, would be her first s*xual encounter. R**e.
She bled in that hotel bed. She cried and was shocked. Her first encounter with a p*nis. She was tiny 90lbs against a man very tall and almost three times her weight.
All this time the guy was on top, but at some point, when pe*******on was impossible, tried to coerce her to come up.
She had a moment of relief and was finally able to breath, stepped out of bed and threatened to scream. He became afraid, but angrily uttered that she could atleast let him Finish.
She dressed painfully, they walked out of the room, leaving blood stained bedsheets behind.
She left for home and told nobody, because in her home and village it was wrong to get yourself r***d.
She'd only mention she had s*x, to the clinician who sold her a packet of morning after pills.
The next time she disclosed this encounter, was with a partner who was curious to know how she lost her virginity. And after the tale, he said "No woman loses her virginity on her own will. I'd have done the same if I was lucky with you"

Years later, she sees him roaming around town. Separated by their social classes. But every time she sees him She'd want to str*n*le him. To wipe his face from existence.

When I ask her if she's headed from the trauma, she says "Yes. Because it is wrong to get yourself r*ped"

End.

This gorgeous girl,
I sat down next to her in uhuru park.
I had been alone on the bench, absorbed in my thoughts, and time had flown by. I'm not sure when she came to sit with me on the bench.
"I wonder if we all have the same outlook on life." After taking a lengthy, deep breath, she spoke.
This girl described having multiple conversations and voices in her head and not knowing which one to listen to or use as a source of logic.
She continued by saying that on occasion she experiences delusions of grandeur. She questions the purpose of life and existence.

She questioned where I got my feeling of purpose and motivation to keep living.. I was at a loss for words.
She continued by describing how she felt disconnected from the outside world and absent. How worn out she was by life and everything in it.
No longer did anything appeal to her. Nothing, not even family or s*x..
She then capped her cigarette butt and walked away.
Where do people derive their sense of living from.
Was she depressed? I wonder.

A woman, focused and clear on her ambitions in her late twenties.
I am sat by the park, and strangers are streaming in one by one. Judging by appearance, they are in their 50's or late 40's. They're holding on their dog leashes and lovingly urge their pets on. Despite the many layers of clothing, I can feel their hearts beam with calm, as they look at their fur babies.
My mind throws back to a friend who claims to be a dog mom. I never though owning a pet was important,but now I do. I would fancy walking around smoking a cigar while my dog wiggles its tail as if to express happiness for having a good mistress.
Did I ever imagine my life this way. Yes, and no.
Yes because growing up I wanted space and the independence it came with. I worked my way up the career ladder to achieve more and gain more independence.
I have it now, but it is not as rosy as I thought it.
And why no,
Because in a similar manner, My mind has often lingered around having a beautiful functional family, beautiful babies and a 'till death do us apart husband'.
Well,..It is now too cold and the dog parents are walking out of the park. They are probably wondering who this stranger is, who sits in the park with a book writing. They will never get an answer.
It will take a lot of determination to leave, but I have to go now, Make a cup of tea and probably create a tinder profile, an idea I have pushed away for very long.

There should be Tinder exclusive for Independent Educated women.