TO SPONSOR OR NOT SPONSOR?

A five minute interaction with me will give you insight of what I stand for, who I entertain and what etches my ego. I like what I like and I’m very outspoken with my dislikes. I wish to love and accept everybody but I’m not Jesus; an excuse I use conveniently to steer away from good deeds while still gaining favor.

I have been raised by a strong single parent who has shown me that self acquisition always beats handouts. This set standard gives me a whole different perspective from most of my peers. She has shown me first hand that I need to put in the work; to toil for the things I need and want. She has sculpted my life I such a way that it makes me uncomfortable to receive certain things especially monetary. Given this foundation, I work twice as hard and skip sleep as much as my body can take to make this coin.

Nothing comes close to how I feel when I have stayed up all night to meet deadlines and the sun meets my workload halfway. The transition of cold cutting through the air to the subtle warmth that sets in at 7am is priceless. Handing in articles that are articulate and of set standards while still retaining the knowledge cannot compare to anything in the world. It’s almost like being paid to read only that you will have to share your notes with the teacher.

That first sip of my morning coffee that has turned subliminally cold and its scent fading away politely is my indication of money well earned. I love the hard work; I’m obsessed with the sound my keyboard makes as I type away, I should probably check into rehab for the stillness of the night leaves me intoxicated. The soundlessness that is occasionally interrupted by leaves ruffling and motorists taking drunkards back home and hearing my voice go on and on about the text I’m putting down.

What keeps me going? My mother waking up every day at 4 in the morning to go to work. She has been doing this for the past ten years, living in ‘Wronguy’ can be slightly hectic but leaving your own house that you bought, now that’s something you cannot trade. The shower falls gently on the tiled bathroom floors experiencing obstruction; light slips through the crevices of the door illuminating the hallway and my room; the shuffling of feet across the room opposite me is an indication that I have less than an hour to complete my work.

I sleep better knowing that I only parted with sleep to get a few zeros that would probably not see the weekend and on some good weeks, it sees Fridays. Aside from writing, Blush Lounge Africa keeps me on toes from morning to evening on good days. When bundles are not a problem and my energy is on the upscale I post in the morning before I shower and another before I take on my current read. On slow days I simply go research on other pages, research on how big my store will be and whether me and Jesus are the same height.

Deliveries usually give me directives of the day; if I will be in CBD or ill simply see BED. I love my clients, one day you feel like you aren’t going anywhere in life then you get a call and it changes your whole outlook. Other days you just don’t go anywhere in life aside from occasional visits to the loo.

Mr Chair was part and parcel of the institution I interned for a few years back. He would be present at various meetings and events that my department would organize whether he was relevant to the cause or not. His presence didn’t really strike me in the beginning; he was simply just another ‘broda’ in the work scene. I tend to think I’m quite naive when it comes to men flirting or harboring feelings of infatuation towards me. The problem usually comes in when a gentleman comes forward and he becomes borderline psychopathic. This came to my attention when a friend at school used to open my bedroom window at 2am every other day. I digress.

Chairman was slightly too forward when I had reached the end of the internship and pressed for my number but this ‘mteja’ gave him my brother’s phone number on every account. Sorry brathe. I don’t know who sold me out to this archaic being but he finally managed to get a hold of me, two months after departing the company. I mistook him for some IT guy who was hot on my heels until I saw his true caller. You know those pictures individuals from generation X take, the angle is usually from below the nose as if they are peeping on you. You can easily tell someone who is over fifty from the picture they take. You can easily see their brain matter if you zoom, most of the times there is no activity.

I was shocked but didn’t want to come off as rude by enquiring of his source. His conversations were slightly accommodating at the start, he would often digress and talk of his wife who does imports. He probably knew that statement would hook me as bait. I entertained the conversation long enough to ask for the contacts of the agents they used but the fat man wouldn’t budge. Going back and forth about my beauty and intelligence was a complete turn off and he knew that once he gave me those contact details, I would be gone with the wind.

He would call text and whatsapp at different times all to no avail. Men are very strange beings, they would allude you are playing hard to get yet you were never to be gotten to begin with. He was never able to catch that sail at all. The more I blue ticked him, the more eager he would get. He would enquire on my whereabouts, my activities, whether I was still working for the company and if I could give him 5 minutes of my time. Typical sponsor sh**

I would respond nonchalantly knowing very well he would be instrumental in helping me with my shipment and expanding my business. Let’s just say he matches my stubborn nature to the latter. He would hold the contacts hostage in a bid to get ‘5 minutes’ of my time. He was eager to ‘governor’ me but he was barking up the wrong flower. I was forced to block him on several occasions when he kept asking for pictures and would borderline online rape me. I would unblock him when I feel the weight of the world would be easier if I had the weigh of his pocket then would block him again as he asked for a convention.

It’s been almost two years now; he has stuck around longer than most relationships I have been in and he doesn’t seem too eager to depart. His constant phrase would be ‘high end girl’ to allude to my rich boyfriend and high status. I would laugh sarcastically wondering why I would stress him for contacts if I had a rich boyfriend to begin with. How can you be stupid and married, apologies to the wife and kids.

When he texted in the morning, I routinely ignored and went on with my articles of endeavor. He didn’t know when to quit, clearly, I left him on read so many times he would use different numbers to reach me. But intelligence is not for everyone as the profile picture was the same. He asked why I was so elusive and if he can see me on Friday the following week; I was hesitant since we all know old folks think Friday is the height of all moral extravaganza. I told him we can meet at 8 in the morning, trying to put litmus on his intentions.  Too predictable to even maintain my interest, he opposed.

He went on with the same narrative of being beautiful, intelligent and sexy enough to get any man to cover all my bills when need be. Enough was enough; I told him sarcastically that I’m so blessed to have all those things. My sarcasm is probably misread for naivety on so many accounts that I’m toning it down a whole notch to accommodate everyone. He pressed on to ask if he could be that man for me; this confidence has definitely been fetched for so long that he couldn’t bear it no more.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bmvt4rLBK9L/?utm_source=ig_share_sheet&igshid=xy30e021j0xi

 I tried to sway him to the business side of my life and maintain professionalism. But seeing the block history and the multiple numbers he has tried to reach me on, he would not have any of that……..

You still blame Sharon Otieno? I wouldn’t even with a gun in my mouth. The men who are to protect us as if they would their own daughters are the same ones preying on us as if we are meat dangling on a tree. They are so adamant to acquiring young women and take advantage of our money-less situation and broke boyfriends that they cannot see their own wives with the shamba boy.

Why would a married man step out of his marriage and renounce his vows just for a weekend of pleasure? So as to soothe their egoistic nature –they can afford any woman. I do not blame Sharon for sleeping with a married man; I blame the married man for not being faithful and adhering to his vows. I blame him for not being an adult enough to lead an exemplary life for his children and the society that chose him. I blame him for not using the pull out game or even strapping up.

To all my fellow women who feel like life is slightly hard and need the extra cash to facilitate themselves, please you do not. All you need is Arimis and to work hard, don t be afraid of putting in the effort. Don’t allow yourself to be so lazy and selective that you cannot go hard for yourself. Remember money is only a means to an end. There will never be enough money; you will always want something new, something more current and different from what you have. Block all the chairmen in your phonebooks. Be your own chairlady.  

To all those grown men and women who are married but can’t use both rings to prevent shame and unnecessary issues, may disease be your demise. Judases and Judasets

 

 

1 COMMENT

  1. This is a really good piece. Nothing beats spending money that you actually worked hard for. No one can change my mind on that. This may be biased as well but I truly think single moms out here are raising really independent girls, showing them that you can actually sustain yourself if you try hard enough. Not to say all, but most.
    Keep up the good work Diaz!

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