Prostitutes and the single girl

She is sitted in a fancy pub rocking an Indian woman's hair. Her nails are immaculately done with pointy tips. She wears pointy heels with a red bottom and her lipstick matches her bag. She sits in a corner while her body is snug in a hot little leopard print dress flattering her fake eyelashes at any old white man she sees. Next to her drink is a packet of foreign cigarettes..malboros or Camels. She looks immaculate. Don't be fooled. Bitch is a prostitute

I always thought I was one of those girls who went to fancy looking restaurants and pubs and drank cocktails I religiously envied from Sex and The City. I always thought I was a trendy New Yorker with a Cosmo stuck in the wrong country. I love spending money and spoiling my liver rotten with the best cocktails sold at a ridiculous price. My best friend and I are always spoiling ourselves any chance we get. I thought I was part of the elite club where business men and company CEOs socialise and talk of the last awkward statement that Tony Blair said. Boy was I wrong

My favourite places have been infiltrated by prostitutes and call girls. This has led me to believe that the oldest profession in the world has evolved. Yes, even in Zambia. Gone are the days where they stand in street corners and wait for horny men with egos not as large as their packages. Gone are the days when women waited in the dark for men with huge cars who are compensating for something they lack in their neatly pressed trousers washed with love by their needy girlfriends and clueless wives. The prostitutes have got it right. They are now following the men in these so called elite clubs.

The girls in these clubs do not care about Tony Blair or Christian Amanpour's last interview, they are there for the money and some of  the men know it. This means it is hard for the single girl like me to find a date in such a place when there are women with higher heels and readily available pussy galore on display.

In Lusaka, we have a lot of these nice clubs where foreign men like to patron. Waiting in the dark are blood thirsty women who quote prices in American dollars. Loads of young black girls mostly uneducated, can be seen over the weekends shopping with much older white men while pushing trolleys full of shit they can not even pronounce. (I have this personal policy where I never eat anything I cannot spell). Has anyone ever wondered where they meet such men??

So I once went out with my crew and I happened to wear a very suggestive outfit. I let my tatas breathe and ordered my favorite drink (Long Island Ice Tea Please). Halfway through my drink, I noticed the man across the table from me giving unnecessary eye contact. He was probably in his late forties   and he was sitting with some middle aged menopausal looking women. I held his gaze but alas, someone else hit on me before he found a pair. Let's just say I got picked up that night. The two gracious gentlemen were kind enough to buy as a couple rounds of drinks. I pushed my luck and lied that it was my birthday. They went on to treat me to a very expensive concoction of cocktails and even wished me a happy birthday. My friends did not mind as long as the drinks kept coming. To be honest, I enjoyed the attention for the two men were elegantly dressed and it did not hurt that one of them looked like The George Clooney with his greying side beard and thick mane of hair. I felt like I was in my prime but I was so exhausted from the lying and unnecessary complements I was giving for the sake of free drinks.

I actually pitied all those first class call girls who put up with stupid men and their ego problems just so they can get paid. But these girls also know what they are doing. The worst part is that there are some girls who are well educated and from good families but are simply looking for an easy escape. They use their charm and basic education to lure these so called eligible bachelors or eligible marrieds and use their big butts which do not lie to secure their futures and also their drinks.


As a single girl on the hustle, it makes life hard for me because some times men in my joints think I am a prostitute. Unfortunately, I am not one to wear sexy clothes but we have girls who work hard and look good who will forever be deemed as Julia Roberts. The struggle is real. It is becoming hard to find a man in such a place. Maybe we also look in the wrong areas. But these girls are the reason some of us are now pulling the independent girl facade ans unfortunately harming the minority eligible men who may be willing to spend a buck on our bedazzled livers.

So here is a quick guide on surving the prostitutes like a pro (no pun intended) for all you out there.

1. Men, if the girl laughs at your stake jokes any chance she gets, she is probably doing it for the free booze
2. Iadies, if you leave your house with little money but come back more wasted than Lindsay Lohan after a successful court hearing, you have probably been considered a whore. Free drinks are awesome but careful how you you indulge..
3. Dear men, if you leave wholesome looking girls and for the skimpiest dressed hoochie in fake Givency pants, you are looking for frisky action and most possibly an itcy STI

I think the advent of these modern day hookers has set the whole dating world into disray. Some girlfriends act like prostitutes and trade their bodies for the finer things, once their boyfriend stops supporting them, they end the relationship. What difference is this from our new emerging call girls?

I was once at a party and I spotted a modern day prostitute in a sexy dress while I was wearing sneakers and a very unflattering yet comfortable skater tshirt which belonged to my brother. I spotted a handsome guy and went for the kill. The very pleasant looking lady approached the gentleman who was very foreign and she feined interest in him. I hads to gets my mahn! A battle followed where we both tried to charm the pants of this delicious cup of man with her being superficial and me pulling the I-am-a-smart-and-well-red-African-woman. I got all my laughs from him and he got all his laughs from here. Surprise surprise, he asked for my number while I went on to get my own drink and wallow in self pity. Well played, hoochie, well played. Never get into battle with these broads, they will go all 300 this is Sparta on you and you will lose. It is a blood bath.

This is just random: i hate it when like real prostitutes, and I mean the bleached street corner ones grab a gorgeous man and somehow even marry him when they can not speak a word of English and they think the Dalai Lama is some sort of exotic animal. And then they go abroad with these really yummy men and everyone thinks we Zambians are so cute with our bad english because we are soo exotic..yada yada..

Anyways, I was once in a car with a bunch of friends when I spotted a group of prostitutes standing on a street corner, I yanked my head out of the car and screamed ''whores" (though Zambian readers will mostly giess right that the choice of word I had used was in fact 'huule' which is street lingual for the ladies of the night."

So these women went on to swear at me and because I was in a car and they were on the street, I fwlt confident and swore right back. One of them threatened to come and whoop my ass. Confidently, I urged them forward. I stuck my head in the car long enough to plead with the driver to drive faster but there was a slow build up of traffic! I stuck my head out the window and kept sxreaming "bring it on bitch" with confidence while pleading with the driver to hit the gas. It was such an awlful predicament and I was sure they would beat me up sensless...never again