Heels, Love, Money

You know, I dreamt and imagined I would be a lot of things in this world, but never ever what I currently was. Sadly. I sighed, the cold Nairobi air like ice about my face while I kept shivering outside the huge I & M building on Kenyatta avenue. A group of rowdy teens passed by, cat whistles and dirty stares from the group while I choose to ignore - I could not blame them anyway. It was ten p.m in the well lit city, a Friday when business boomed most. A drunk couple passed by arguing, the echoes of club bangers in high tempo could be heard from a distance, crazy matatu driving within the city looking like party buses decorating the roads alongside small personal vehicles that were mostly driving out of the city no doubt for an escape from the hectic city life to their peaceful residents. Clank ! Clank ! My stiletto red heels were loud against the pavement announcing my presence to my target. A burly shadow pacing Infront of his Mercedes Benz across the street. He paused once he spotted my sashaying figure. He came to light, his chest length goatee his signature look and leather shoes reflecting the streetlight over head. It was time. I was an attractive female, Something people referred to as a point five or a half cast. My father being German and my mother a Kenyan. My complexion was a tanned chocolate brown, smooth and the only thing that gave away my mixed race state were my eyes and hair. My untamed curls blew with the wind, my grey eyes focusing on him. " My money, sir ? " He turned, shot me a grin that made me sick to my stomach. Should've never chosen this profession. " No greetings, jabêr ? " My jaw ticked, looking at his huge but brainless head. " Hmm? You owe me one more night ! " He pocketed, his expensive but oversize suit on his pot bellied frame. " You've been saying that since last week ! You owe me five nights... Sir ! " I spat the last word out, he did not deserve even the slightest bit of respect. His grin grew further," Come on and you enjoyed it ! " Bile rose up my throat. Oh ! Mother if you were still alive... " One more night and I'll pay ... " A ruse. " No sir ! I demand my payment now ! You've been saying that all week ! " He moved closer, " Let's not make this difficult dear, would you like me to call the agency for your inefficient services ? " My lips trembled, my grey eyes in fear. If they kicked me out, I would surely end up on the streets. " But... " " Hush ! Let me show you..." I was not willing, not anymore and so with the little strength I had when his fat fingers wrapped around my arms I pushed then yelled until I found myself pulled from him . " What is going on here ? " A youthful voice asked. My eyes landed on a young man, grey slacks and white shirt. Two policemen behind his muscular frame, a good looking fella but I was too hungry to give a damn. I needed my pay. " This scum has refused to serve me and yet I paid for her services ! " Of course. We expect people like those to give such heartless lies since their brains seemed to occupy their stomach and their intestines occupy their heads. " No ! He hasn't - " " Silence girl ! I will call the agency ! " His eyes bore a sinister glint. " But - " " Such greedy women ! I pay , no service. I pay, no service ! " The policemen had drew near, seeming to buy his story and after awhile, his untruthful ravings bore fruit for the men in blue shook their heads, barked out laughs and abandoned me to my own devices. " Ah ! Mzee, do as you please, " they said. The young man hovered but went away after a moment, a blank expression on his face. And we were alone again. " I told you no one would help you. You're just a pretty face made for this job, today you must give me what I ...want ! " His voice ended in high pitch as I ducked his grasp. I had had enough. I ran, a sprint in my heels. " I shall call the agency ! You're an inefficient - " The rest of his words were drowned in the night wind. How long would it go on ? Four months down the line, in the same job, I had been kicked out from many agencies in my stupid attempt to save my wanting dignity. What dignity? Truthfully, that was lost as soon as I stepped foot on the first agency in town. A rumble interrupted me and I looked down, my stomach growling for what it was worth- reminding me of the last meal, no last snack I ate , a day ago - a half a scone for breakfast. My miserable life. It was a peaceful night, as I crossed the road into Uhuru park, sat down on a bench. My mind reminiscing all the good times I had before that tragic night. My phone beeped inside my pocket. I pulled it out. " From the agency : Ms. Jeremy, your services are no longer in need, you're dismissed, " Great, just great. *** I pulled my pink suitcase along the sidewalk from the agency motel. The pay was pathetic, I was starving but at least I had a roof over my head. Thunder rumbled in the far of distance, a promise of rain. It was three hours, twelve a.m and I had no where to go. No food, No shelter, No clothes, NO PARENTS. Glossary - Matatu - a local Swahili term referred to mini buses in Kenya. - Mzee - Swahili term for old man. -Jabêr - a Luo word for 'beautiful' . (Luo is one of the ethnic tribes among the fourty two tribes in Kenya.)