Driving along the Mombasa-Malindi road recently, this blogger decided to stop at Watamu, about ten kilometers from Malindi town and went to the sandy white beaches to cool off from the unbearable heat currently being experienced in the coastal area.
At the public beach in Watamu, nobody speaks English. Only three languages can be heard here, Italian, Kikamba and Kigiriama in that order. Italian happens to be the nationality of the aging white women who flock these beaches in search of sun, sand but mostly sex. And they seem to be getting all three in plenty to the extent that they tell their friends back home who subsequently visit in droves. The result is that the place is choking with Italian tourists.
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Also published today
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The divide between the haves and have-nots is probably too wide to ever bridge. Here's a classic example. Ordinary Kenyans are discriminated against because of their tribe every day while privileged Kenyans seating in air-conditioned luxury in Europe or the US castigate this blogger for discussing tribalism which they are sure exists only in the minds of a few.
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Just as I removed my sandals to walk on the water, I could not help seeing two young men wearing tight 'biker' shorts with their manhood bulging conspicuously from the costumes as they flanked an elderly Italian lady who could easily pass for their grandmother.
The lady who looked seventy something walked about proudly with her 'catches' the same way a hunter would parade his game trophies. The two young Kenyans carried the lady's belongings including sun oil, handbags and all. They were conversing in Italian all this time.
I learnt later that the two boys were locals from the Giriama tribe who double up as beach boys besides working as Gigolos in business to meet the “desires and needs” of mostly aging Italian women who are heavily laden with euro's and willing to spend on the local studs.
A few meters away, a group of boys speaking Kikamba dispersed almost immediately when they saw a group of elderly and young Italians approach the beach and rushed towards them offering several items for sale in fluent Italian that also mesmerizes the visitors who stop to converse with these ‘black people speaking their language'
Many strike a deal and manage to sell items like small carvings but more strike the moreb lucrative “deal” which is friendship with the visitors who are easily convinced to hire them temporarily as tour guides since they speak their language. Those young youths who take elderly women as lovers usually start like this.
Just near the entrance to the beach, I notice a young local guy, barely 20 years old, spotting dreadlocks and wearing dark designer sun glasses. He is busy on his expensive Nokia camera phone speaking Italian to the person on the other end of the line. I later learn he is a prominent broker here and gets the Italians stuff they can't get in the supermarkets, like studs and drugs.
Many of the boys here have tales to tell of how they have traveled to Italy on several occasions with their lovers or how they live comfortable lives as their subsistence is heavily subsidized by the elderly foreign women who always return to Malindi for their annual vacation but will frequently send money to their local lover's by money transfer. (Are all the big figures of money remitted back home by Kenyans abroad skewed by this activity?).
On getting to Malindi town, somebody coming here for the first time may think that they are in Italy as there are plenty of roadside boards written in Italian and lots of restaurants and even supermarkets specializing in Italian stuff.
Almost all the white people and tourists in Malindi are Italian and legend has it that the first Italians came here in the seventy's and were mainly Mafioso looking for a place to hide as they had been marked for death by rival gangs. A visit to the Malindi casino may help you believe this tale. My jaw almost dropped clean off just looking at the kind of money being spent here. A colleague quipped that it made Nairobi Casinos look like insignificant kiosks.
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