MUSINGS: So what’s wrong with prostitution?

The other day I was at Mama B’s after  some time away. I realised that I was losing out on all the juicy soccer stories.

I now understand the wisdom of going into some sessions of absence from the so-called kijiwe.

If guys never miss you, they start taking you for granted; fresh gossips simply dry up!

I have now come to realise that people are fascinated by new tales that develop during one’s absence.

On that day as the four of us sat at a table not far from the entrance waiting for the early kick-offs, a woman sat alone on one of the tall bar stools at the corner.

 She was dressed to kill as some would call it.

I took my time admiring the creator’s great work which He seemed to have applied with all sorts of perfection.

The guy next to me must have confused my admiration with staring.

 He patted me on the shoulder saying, “Hey, you have been away for too long. We have advanced around here; that woman you are gazing at is a prostitute providing services around here.”

“So what’s wrong with that? Work is work as long  as it pays. Funny how some people think Bongo is some sort of heaven,” I said.

Some guys at the table were not very happy when I told them it was high time prostitution was treated just like any other job.

“Wee, sasa umechanganyikiwa,” one of the guys accused me of insanity.

“Seriously man,” I said in a tone that made the guys around pay attention.

“With this rate of unemployment, I don’t see any point of the police arresting prostitutes. I think it’s naïve, expensive and unfair. ”

I spoke as calmly as I would because I could see the guys looking at me as if I was saying something blasphemous. Their facial expressions were all filled with defiance.

So in order to keep my audiophiles cool I had to add quickly “Besides, call girls have always been part of our society; past and present. Shunning them won’t kill the trade. What really bothers me is when you arrest a pro and let her customer walk scot free. And by the way who do these girls sell their goodies to anyway?”

“So you are defending prostitution; it is just not part of our culture,” one of the guys said.

I laughed that off.

The guy looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“Bongo culture?”

“Yes, our Bongo Africa culture.”

“There is nothing like Bongo culture, that is just a myth aimed to keep some people happy. This country is made up of more than a hundred tribes and many religious sects including free-mansons. Each one has its own set of unique beliefs. Now which one makes up the Bongo culture any way?”

I stopped speaking and looked at the faces around the table. No one spoke for or against. At that point I sensed I was winning the argument, so I went on.

“Moreover, some of these cops doing the arrest are known to be regular customers as well.”

“lakini kweli,” I heard a fellow say. “Just imagine how much in taxes local governments would get if all prostitutes paid accordingly like any other professions?”

Now I knew I had support on the issue, so I said confidently “They would also operate in special zones known as Red light districts just like in Europe.”

“I say hiyo kali!” someone said. Prostitutes operating like any other profession seemed so far-fetched.

“Sasa, will they give you a receipt? Just imagine a pro standing at a street corner or sitting at a table in a bar like that with her electronic tax register,” one of the guys quipped to a thunderous laughter.

“Yeah, why not?”