Dirty Dancing

I remember very well in my childhood that I danced in public. I was about eight years old when a neighbor had a wedding for his daughter. Loud speakers and a D.J. Were brought in the afternoon for the open disco. We danced. My age mates and I had taken complete control of the Swahili shade known as chandarua. I had seen Michael Jackson dance so many times on T.V. And I was doing exactly what I saw him do. I think I was good. And I think the girls dancing and those watching from the seats noticed.

Maybe I was preoccupied by studies or chores after that big day, but it took me a long time after to even think of dancing. I lost it, then I began to hate it because whenever my mum organized a birthday party for me, she would finally ask me to dance in front of the guests. It was so embarrassing because I could not execute even the simple moves. I hated birthdays after that. And to date, I have grown to dislike the culture not only because of dancing, but it doesn't make sense celebrating growing old to senility, amongst other reasons.

We had a farewell dance on our last night at the dormitory in our secondary school. Still, I could only watch my friends while sitting on my bed. Others were good, and others jumped to reggae tunes because its a genre that does not require much. Post secondary school was the period that I was introduced to music clubs. My best friend got invited by their tenant who worked at Florida-2000. He asked me to go with him, and there, I saw guys our age who danced like they were on a competition. Boys and girls dancing as couples and others separate. Girls looked beautiful in their expensive tiny wears.

Some people take dancing as an exercise. They don't care if they look weird how they throw hands and legs in the air out of sync. Some love it, they would do it happily even without a partner. But to some, its a kind of a bait. Its a means of getting girls, whether one night stands or girlfriends to be. A beautiful girl is an accessory, pride to a man.

The next club I entered was SPARKLES in Eldoret. It was small in size, on the first floor of some building on a street in town. I walked around people and never cared knowing that the disco lights got me all covered up. Some family friends came for a holiday from Germany and the young boys and girls decided to spend the night at Mamba International. This was my first time seeing a state of the art Discotheque. It was the first one in east Africa that had a projector and music videos could be watched. Beautifully designed spaces with lights and accessories.

I like music. And I like dancing though I retired long ago from it. I couldn't miss A.S.K. showground every year because I had to be at OMEGA disco. They had the loudest of speakers and most loved since people flocked in thousands. It was here that I met a beautiful dancing girl. She had plaited her hair and wore a blue jeans and a white top. Three men were dancing around her. I halted my crowd rounds and immediately started shaking my body slowly. I tried not to show much because there were no colored lights to hide into. The other guys were good and as they went round they gave space for movements and moving in closer to the girl. After an hour I gave up. I kept having her in my thoughts at bedtime many nights after that. I didn't know her name or where she lived.

Taarabu became popular after that. Not because it was new. But in the olden days, only ladies danced under the shade. Nowadays, men get into the crowd of dancing ladies to show their skills and try their luck. I had become tired of just watching and one night I stood to dance my usual slow moves. I tried to keep up with the rhythm but one girl completely shattered my confidence when she told me dancing was not for me and the moves I make, I had better join aerobics clubs or fitness exercises clubs where they dance carelessly.

On one August holiday, I visited my friends in Nairobi who were staying at Imara Daima estate. On one mid week night they took me to City Cabanas, to enjoy some music and have dinner. I saw a man dance very well that night. He didn't have a female partner and he danced just because he felt like it. He moved like he had no bones. He didn't seem to use a lot of energy. He turned and made wonderful foot-works on the dance floor. He was enjoying his dancing, and I liked it. My friend told me he was their neighbor and introduced him to me after he came to the seats. I didn't waste time and immediately asked him if he could show me how to lift my legs freely and not like they were tied to logs. And my arms to stiffen out as any good dancer would. I had only six days to return back to Mombasa so I used every opportunity of free time he got.

Many guys had started to frequent Pirates beach on Sundays. It was usually very crowded so those who wanted a place to seat and some music had to pay and get into one of the beach clubs. It was either G'10s or SURFSIDE. I chose the latter and ordered a Sprite which I drank slowly on the corner table. To the left I could watch amateur swimmers playing with the sea waves. To the right it was bolds and beautifuls showing how sexy they look when they twist and turn their bodies to the music. A lady who seemed familiar came to my table and asked me to dance with her. I took about half a minute thinking about it then I stood up. The D.J. Had just started playing “Why me lord.” by Shaggy and I couldn't resist holding the cutey by her behinds. Whats your name? Florence, She answered. We met last year at Omega. I remembered her now. Her hair was left loose, combed to the back. Same pretty face. And I got a very sexy scent of perfume from her. I grind my abdomen to her waist as per how the song beats dictated. She was alright, and she could really dance. All eyes on us.

At around 10 we had to say good bye and this time she gave me her number. She was staying in Kiembeni estate and was waiting for an invitation to join campus. After a fortnight, I called her to ask if she could join me to Tudor Paradise. At this point, I had chosen my favorite music would be the one that allows close contact. I liked to feel the girl whom I'm dancing with. At Tudor paradise, it was Rhumba. Bango, and Mzee Ngala himself was singing. She came early and after the first round of drinks, we were on the floor. Florence's body was built for dancing. And I liked to think it was built for me to hold. She was slim, wide chest, slimmer at her waist and bulging beneath on her hips then slimming again. I held her close to my waist while dancing to the Bango tunes. She was light in moving and very agreeing to the calculated pulls.

We danced, retreated to our table for drinks and rest. Then danced, then rested then back to the floor again. It seems we both loved Rhumba and being close to each other. Mzee Ngala was singing “Ulidhani nitakufa, ukanikimbia. Kumbe mwenzangu ni nyoka, huna mazowea......” at three in the morning and I was holding Florence tighter than before. I looked into her eyes and she shifted them down shyly. It was so good having her on my chest. I could feel love moving from her body to mine. I thought this was the girl I was meant to be with. I should hold her and never let go. I smelled her hair and I looked into her eyes again. Her eyes emitted love, and I went for her lips. But she turned and I got her cheek. I did not loose hope. I knew a kiss would relay my fabulous feelings for her. Everything. I waited for a perfect moment and went for her lips again. She bent her head downwards then rose it. Then she cleared it out for me:- I don't have romantic feelings for you, I just love to dance. I'm sorry. She said this softly and continued staying on my hold and grip. And we danced in each other's embrace Until the break of dawn.