Prose: One Night In Mombasa

By Morenike Nie Smith

As I sat waiting for the Kenyan Airways flight bound for Nairobi to be announced, I walked around looking for a magazine to buy, I found a book. I bought it and began to read. The announcement I looked forward to never came, then the tap on my shoulder. He looked so familiar, and then I realized he was at the ticketing till. He laughed as he spoke and told me the aircraft was waiting for me.

It came as a shock. I was so neck deep in my book I did not hear the announcement. I ran to the aircraft and everyone looked on as the black blonde-haired woman sauntered in. Even in a rush, I still commanded the stares. I sat in, we taxied all the way to take off, and I knew my time in Kenya would be without a tale.

Walking down the streets of Nairobi, I looked upon the urchins and wondered why there was no rehabilitation in place for them. I guarded my wristwatch and necklace, as they were the only form of material attraction for any onlooker.

I was lost in thought as I walked back to my hotel room wondering where next I would find myself. I saw the car parked in front of the hotel and overheard it belonged to Mika Hakinnen the rally driver. I waited to see him but he never came down so I got on the elevator and went to my room. I could not get the thoughts of a rally driver in the same hotel with me. Just as I walked to my room, he came out from the room next door. I literally screamed. He must have thought I saw a ghost because he looked behind him and I smiled and asked him to sign my picture for me…..I felt stupid but hey, how many times do you meet a race driver?

‘Discover the Indian Ocean’ the handbill read. I tried to ignore it but it kept haunting me so I picked it up and read it through. I packed my bags ready for the morning. I looked up the Nyali Beach Hotel in the yellow pages and booked a room.

I left early to catch the ferry to the North Coast and that was when I discovered Fanta passion. The ferry to the coast was smooth but my mind was in turmoil. I did not know what to expect but I left it all to the Indian Ocean.

I checked into my room and stayed in not knowing what to expect and that was it for the night. The sunrays that filtered into my chalet and the splash of the ocean like a spitting feline was the best experience ever. I was ready to explore. I had the best mushrooms for breakfast and of course the Eggs Benedict awesome.

I rested in my room and hoped to meet the rally driver again so I took a walk on the beach that was when I spotted him. Fair as the morning sun yet his eyes were deep set and I hoped for a second he would see me. He looked away and I wondered if he ever saw me. I walked away and hoped that fate had brought me thus far. I walked to the tourist shops and bought myself a kanga for the evening. I had a ritual for a bath and put the scent of the ‘lotus flower’ and ‘secret of the desert’ on my skin remembering what the Egyptian lady had told me, ‘No man would ever resist you’. I wore my bikini, tied my kanga on my waist, and walked through a path that was lit with bush lamps and I wished I had a man to hold. As I arrived the venue of the bonfire barbecue with the Maasais, I felt the penetrating stare and when I looked around in the not so lit bush, I saw him the same mysterious man. I walked over to him not caring if he thought I was the hunter and he the prey. I said nothing.

He undressed me with his eyes and asked me to be his partner for the night. We ate so much meat till we were drunk on beef. We laughed at the dances, the hopping along to the rhythmic East African beats and all I hoped for was for him to reach out and touch me.

The night was fading, the fire going out and all the tourists retiring to their rooms. I bade him goodbye but he insisted on see me to my room. It was only then he realized I was in the luxury wing, which was close to the sea. I opened my door and asked him in. He walked in, stood by the door, and said goodnight. He turned right back and walked away. I watched him go then it occurred to me that he wanted to be in his comfort zone. I ran after him and just as he opened his door, I ran in and he grabbed me and kissed me. My lips shivered. My spine unable to hold the rest of my body as I held on to his body for support. My knees gave in and my knickers were soaked. I held on to him as if my life depended on it, he smelt so good. Just as I wondered if my mouth could make him remember me forever, he opened his door looked me in the eye and reminded me that we were strangers. I ran to my room, tears in my eyes, my legs could barely carry me. I shut my door hoping to keep him out. He just stood right there in my head, my tongue could still taste him.

I fought my emotions till I was overwhelmed so I called him on the intercom and he called me by name. I felt my juices running and asked him to tell me his name. Names he said meant nothing as long as what I felt meant something. I did not wait for him to go on, I hung up and ran back to his room then he spoke of my smell, his eyes eating me up then he pushed me to the wall, lifted my bikini top and sucked my erect nipples. I ran like a faucet. He grabbed my ass and squeezed it so hard. I begged him to take me but he ignored my plea. I touched him. He was roaring inside his pants. I had never felt such a thing before in my life. He rammed me into the wall penetrating me subliminally and just as I pleaded with my eyes he kissed my nipples again, and my lips and opened the door.

As I walked out, I saw the stain on his pants. I knew he felt something so I hoped to see him in the morning. I went to bed satisfied yet hungry for him. When I woke from my slumber, there was a note at my door… ‘My name is …’. I looked around for him but all I had left of him was this nameless note. I stayed on for a few days hoping to put out the fire he started the night of the bonfire.

That was the last of him. I left Kenya still wet and looking for my nameless. I can still taste him and when I get a rush and a burst of goose bumps, I know he his staring at me. Goodbye my Indian Ocean Sphinx.