By The Rt Hon Jim Bonie
Mzee Achola tells me he used to know whether his wife of 60 years was horny or not based on her dress code in the evening and how her buttocks were jumping during the day.
Mzee is a likeable person. He dons a bushy mustache, a walking stick and a suit all the time.
At the local booze den, he’s known as Achola jarachar puth ochwanyo chunde oywak ni mayie tienda achiel kende moriere tiiir. (“Achola the white man, a crippled man has knocked his penis on a stone he’s crying ‘oh my only straight leg'”)
He drinks like fish and smokes weed. He prides himself of having beaten a police officer and Kanu youth wingers.
This is how he used to tell whether his wife wanted a banging or not.
If the wife is wrapped in a tattered leso and sings war songs like a Maasai warrior from morning to evening, he was sure that day their bodies won’t touch each other.
If during the day nyar Nyakach was jovial and shakes what her mama gave her like nobody’s business, and singing kegosho, he’d know the night will be marathon.
Then in the evening, nyar Nyakach would put on kamis without anything inside. Her buttocks would be wandering from north to south to eat to West.
He’s then walk out slowly after hammering ugali and ingokho, puff weed for about 20min. Take an hour break then go for nyar Nyakach’s softest spot.
He’d then go in and hammer the shit out of her until she moans “Achola nimeshoka”
He tells me young men of today are in trouble because today’s young women don’t know how to “do it”.
They have too much chemicals on their skin and “I hear they wash that part with yoghurt”. He says. “That’s wrong”, he adds.
During our days, that good had it’s natural aroma that kept you horny even after pouring. “Can yoghurt even allow you to screw her beyond 2min before you pour?”
😅😅 he says the last sentence as he holds her deflated sledgehammer.
