There’s a sexual revolution happening in Kenya. For the first time in ages, sex toy shops, which were barely breaking even, are making profits; big, veiny dildos are selling out as fast as whips and handcuffs are (btw you might want to stop reading here if you’re saved and genuinely want to live like Jesus). More people are joining Tinder with the sole intention to get laid. Eating ass is finding itself as a staple part of people’s foreplay as opposed to when it was only offered, after begging and pleading, on birthdays and special days, if it was offered at all. The sex interaction, from how people meet mates, to how they achieve their nut, is changing, and it’s beautiful to see.
I have a silly statistic that I’d love to see. The amount of two people showers happening on a Friday night, at the end of a gruelling five-day week, and on the eve of the first day away from the ‘plantation’. I know for sure that more takeaway alcohol is sold on Friday night as opposed to any other night, I just hope that the number of condoms is commensurate, and that Nairobi’s horny stay strapped. I think a research paper from NCWSC (Nairobi City Water and Sanitation Company) would reveal the period that people use up the most units of water, and I have a hunch it would be Friday, because it’s the perfect day for two people showers.
Hear me out. Friday is at the end of a gruelling five-day week. There are multiple liquor offers. There are a lot of ‘uko wapi?’ texts. The dress code is in the middle of I-have-a-job-and-can-afford-drinks and look-at-my-colourful-top-I’m-fun. It’s also the day that about half of Nairobi comes out to work and play.
The good thing about Nairobi having north of four million residents is that people in their hoe phase do not need an anti-incest app as Iceland does. There are more than enough people for as many gin/marijuana-fuelled twosomes, threesomes, foursomes, and the gangbangs that your heart desires. Swipe right. Chat and flirt. Send pictures on WhatsApp. Drop pin locations. Then hope that the other person is clean, is good at using their mouth for more than eating the takeout you ordered and knows what time to leave after you both achieve post-nut clarity.
Another read I’d love to see is how people who’ve hooked up and later met in other capacities have handled that. You switch on your laptop to a Zoom meeting, log in five minutes late, and then you encounter a familiar face. Someone is asking you a question, and they want an answer immediately. You know you’ve seen and heard them before but can’t remember where, then it all comes back to you, it’s that person that ate your three-piecer more hungrily than they ate you. You get a wave of anger that makes you text on that side bar thing that your mic has issues, then you realize you didn’t even catch their name. Btw, you know your hoe phase is getting bad when their names don’t even register anymore, like I know we had sex, but please remind me your name.
The Kenyan sexual liberation has preceded the long-awaited actual revolution. Also, going by the rate at which people are exploring nipple clamps, having blindfolded sex, using edible underwear, instead of reading Frant Fannon, Fred Hampton and Miguna Miguna, the real revolution is like a muscular porn star on Viagra. Not coming anytime soon.
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