I Am An Escort And Proud of It

I Guess It’s Official Now, I Am An Escort And Proud of It.

Life is a journey they say. Work hard, keep your head low, stay focused and it will all work out. Don' forget that when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Well, this is a story of how I made sweet Mullafrom that bitter concoction. On one fateful night, I got kicked out of home after years of preserving domestic abuse. My parents were serious drunks and I had had enough. I packed everything I had into one little suitcase and decided that it was time to free myself from torture. I wanted out so bad.

Despite having dropped out of high school, I was so determined to make a way for myself and start a new life. With the pocket money savings I had put together I got an express ticket and landed in Nairobi CBD  in the early afternoon the next day. I knew very well that my options would be limited since I had no prior connections to blood relatives that could help me survive. You see, we were poor and they just did not care.

Except for one long-distance the aunt who was willing to take me in. She was punctual in picking me at the Country Bus Station. My dear aunt was just another Mitush Merchant in Gikomba. The little money she made was used to put food on the table for her 5 other kids. You can imagine the pressure I was under living in a very squeezed small-sized Ploti in the middle of Eastleigh. The next and only logical step was to find some kind of Kibarua so as to help around the home. I did a couple of Kufua gigs around the area with the hope of saving just enough.

The pay was only 200 bob per wash in this Shamba La Mawe. It was surely better than nothing. However, it took me a few weeks to realize that this back-breaking work would not make me rich or earn me even a decent living. One Friday afternoon, while running errands with Aunt in the street of River Road Nairobi CBD, I met a couple of hookers standing around. They looked very pretty in lovely makeup with skimpy little tight miniskirts.

A firm but tender voice cut my thoughts short “ Imagine, hivi ndo wasichana wana survive huku Nairobi” said Aunt. It was supposed to give me some form of parental advice I presume, but it sparked an idea in me. That night I lay awake trying to imagine how much those ladies were making and if it was worth it. I am no fool. I knew my only options were to join the street hookers, go independent by self hunting on social media, do escorting, or join a brothel. But my serious inexperience worried me, so I decided to go independent as an experiment. The first encounter was in CBD Nairobi where I gave an amateur massage to this fine older gentleman.

He was very polite, quiet but very cautious about his privacy. I assured him over and over that he could trust me and by the end of the session, I earned a clean 3,000 shillings. I was so overjoyed to receive such a huge amount on the first go. The industry seemed very promising indeed. In no time I learned a few tricks of the trade. Especially the fact that clients are everywhere on a daily basis. At any given point around you, someone is horny and wants to bust a quick nut. More relief came after learning that being a call girl is not always about having sex sometimes men appreciate the time taken to relax and have a conversation. After some time it was evident that going solo is not so advisable. It was proving a bit stressful and tiring long hours of work. There also was so much risk involved in terms of my own security. I decided to go searching online for agencies that would help me establish my business and eureka! I got a lot of

suggestions but I needed the best, something more reliable and sustainable. Who knew technology would make things this easy?! After posting an ad on Kenya Hot Girls, my phone was ringing nonstop because clients are able to find and contact me whenever the need arises. At least someone out there was looking out for me virtually as I continued slaving away in this city. With the huge number of bucks, I cashed in daily, in no time I was able to afford to live on my own.

I Guess It’s Official Now, I Am An Escort And Proud of It.

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