How I was conned all my savings by a white lady

AUTHOR

Eric Djemba

On a sunny bright Sunday afternoon, I received a text from Maria Bianca who according to the text was a 28-year-old single lady and looking for someone to settle with in a long-term relationship. She told me she was working as an expatriate in Turkana and she had found my number on Facebook and got struck by my red lips, my height (5.8") and above all my charming handsomeness, she wrapped up my peculiar looks in a single text in a manner I have never known or seen before...I was intrigued but something told me it wouldn’t last.

How can a white young lady describe me in such generous words? So I decided to play it safe and try and enquire a few things about her because growing up I had a desire to study abroad and now a chance was about to present itself.

Although I had heard of how people received such texts and ended up parting with a few buck, I thought my Bianca was different because even when I refused to reply her text messages, she made me feel guilty for it.

After two months of chatting and calling each other, our love grew and we became fond of each other like Romeo and Juliet. It was loved brewed from Limuru, Rironi to be precise. Days passed, months passed and we were in constant communication with my new found love. I was optimistic day after another but we couldn’t meet because of obvious reasons. Being an expatriate, she was required to stay in hotels paid for by the NGO she was working with.

But on 12th Dec 2011, she would be coming back from Maasai Mara where she was meant to have her holiday and because Rironi is on the same highway, she promised to see me and she went ahead to tell me how anxious she was to see her African King. My naivety betrayed me on this particular day.

She called me early in the morning to remind me she was coming. So I washed my matandiko and slaughtered my muchunu to welcome my sweet heart. I told a few friends about her chome coming and promised to call them once she arrived so they could come and greet her. But everyone I told was either sceptical or jealous.

 At around 12 noon, she called to tell me she had left and was heading towards Ntulele. At exactly 1:34 pm, she called again and told me that her car had hit something and she already had someone fixing it but I needed not to worry because she would still come. She told me to talk to the mechanic

Mechanic: Boss huyu mzungu anakuja kwako?

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Me: Ndio Daddy shida iko wapi?

Mechanic: Hakuna shida kubwa ni vile hii gari yake imegonga mawe tank ya mafuta ikatoboka although nimemake kuiunda but anasema hana pesa cash, ako na mastercard peke yake..

Me:sasa unataka aje?

Mechanic: Nitumie pesa za gari alafu uongeze kindu 1k arudi Narok town akunywe mafuta total, inakuja kitu 8k.

Waa! My hour had come. I did not want to appear cheap so I obliged... I ran to our sheep pen and grabbed our he-goat by its legs. Because with me I only had Sh2, 000, I rushed to the market with him on my shoulders, he looked sedated and helpless and upon reaching the market I found a ready buyer, the type that like shopping for mbuzi on the last day. We bargained and agreed he would buy it for Sh7, 000 and so after sending 8, 000 I would have something to buy her soda. After the transaction, I rushed to an Mpesa agent to deposit the chums. I called Bianca to assure her that I was almost done withdrawing the money from the bank and I was sending it in the next few minutes.

To cut the long story short, I sent the money but what struck me is that it went to Hannington Mwangi. My Bianca had turned out to be a Mwangi! Efforts to reach her were futile because her phone was off. That is when it hit me that I would never see our Giturume (he-goat) or my Bianca again! Damn! She made me steal our goat. I rushed home to report to our chief that I had been conned and found my mum at the chief’s office reporting that I had stolen her giturume....