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My two nights as a campus prostitute

By REHEMAH NAMUKOSE


This is probably the hardest thing I ever had to do -- acting as a prostitute. The memories of these two adventurous nights on Wandegeya’s Junju lane are still so vivid in my mind. My motive was to confirm rumours that campus girls prostitute to make money.


As the women went on with their very bold stands of pulling male passers-by and luring them into being their customers for the night, I nervously stood across them in the freezing cold night dressed in my long silver leggings and a dress top (guess I was not appropriately dressed since most prostitutes were in skimpy attires).

When cars passed by, I couldn’t help burring my face in my hands, full of shame because the lights could easily show my face to whoever cared to know. Aggressively, the women rushed to the windows of these cars and did their business purchases.

The incident that finally made me leave the street that night was a saloon car that stopped just right in front of me and the three men in it asked me, “Nyabo gwe ogabila ku meka (at how much do you sell yours)?” The question sent chills down my spine! I felt disgraced and I rudely answered, “Ate ku byaaki (About what business)?” I had forgotten I was practically a prostitute that night!

Then I apologetically answered back, “Munsonyiwe bambi, mujjakola emitwalo ebiri buli ommu (sorry about that, you will give me 20,000 each).” Happily, the driver asked, “Is it for the whole night, nga oli expensive nnyo?” I had no idea about how much was charged per service and I decided to go back home because I was feeling bad already.

When I came back the second night, I was more confident. This night a male friend was going to be my ‘customer’ in order to take me where the real business takes place. When my customer for the night finally arrived, we stood and ‘bargained’ for several minutes. (Dear reader, don’t ask me how much I was bought because I also don’t know.)

The lady next to me got suspicious because my negotiation took longer than usual that she loudly asked her colleagues, “Ono naye malaya (Is she also a prostitute)?” But before she could get an answer from them, she walked right up to us and said, “Mumale male mugende eri emabega muloogi mweekole, mutuyisako ba customer (Be quick with your negotiations and go in the lounge behind to do your thing, you are blocking customers from noticing us)!”

After settling our ‘deal’, I pretended to be a good service provider by holding ‘my customer’ in the waist and we set off for the lounge.

The brothel is a house-like structure that is located behind some saloons on the lane and if not carefully noted, one can easily mistake it for another saloon. At the entrance, I paid shillings 1,000 as entrance fee and I was given a pair of condoms. We entered the lounge.

The ‘service room’ had no lights so it was a bit dark and you could not make out the faces of the various couples in it. As we entered, my ‘customer’ guides in since he is familiar with the place.

He walks straight to the corner that has the only bed in the room and he uses his hand to make out whether there is a couple on the bed. “Ffe tuliwanno (we are occupying this bed),” a lady whispers. So we settle for the edge of the bed as we wait for them to finish. It’s a pretty busy environment.

Although there are no lights, there is some little light from the adjoining room that allows one to make out a few things; there are five couples in different corners having sex .There are four couples on mattresses on the floor and one couple occupies the bed on which we are seated, pretending to be the next ones to occupy it for business.
The sight to me was at first embarrassing and later on traumatising. Three basins were in the middle of the room, used condoms are discarded in them. When I looked at these women being used, I couldn’t help associating them to dogs! Is this real or am I dreaming? God what’s happening to society? I wondered.

Different couples have different arguments and conversations while having sex. Couple X is not agreeing on the time and payments. “Naye sebbo oludewo…Ka short ka dakiiika ntono nnyo naye gwe ogaanye okumala, nyongeramu enkumi biri (you have delayed sir, a short round takes very few minutes but you are not finishing. You will add me shillings 2000),” the woman on the bed tells her customer.

After another couple finishing their business, the customer starts complaining about his missing mobile phone. “Mpa essimu yange oba tojjafuluma muno ng’oli mulamu (Give me my phone or else you will not get out of here alive)!” he shouts.

As they go on with their quarrel about the missing phone, a campus girl I know from the Faculty of Social Sciences walks in with a man. Thanks to my customer who strategically led me to the corner so she cannot make out my face but I can recognise hers. She is a good example of what I am looking for – campus prostitutes. She occupies the mattress adjacent to our bed and they begin their business, just after a couple that has just finished.

As ‘my customer’ excuses himself and gets out(it was according to our plan), I use this chance to interact with one of these girls as we ‘freshened up’ in the room connected to this sex gallery. I pretended to express my disappointment of my customer ‘who had refused to pay me’ just to get a few facts about the business and that is when I got to know of kashort, ’loongo’ and CNN live as terms used in the business. Campus prostitutes call the kashort a quickie, she told me.

As I listened to nonstop vulgar exchange of words between different couples, I finally decided to leave this disgusting hell of a world. After all, my story was done.

This story was first published in the print version of The Campus Journal in 2011

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