Finding love (and losing it) on the mobile phone

You most likely have received it; a text message or e-mail from a stranger claiming to be a foreigner in your land who is looking for love. Your first instinct has been to call the stranger and tell him (it is almost always a man of Caucasian roots) that you are not interested, but most of the time you just brush it off and go on with your life.

But what would happen if you are a naive 17-year-old who is still in college and highly impressionable? How would it end if you engaged the “lovelorn” man on the other end?

That was my mission this month: to get in touch with one or two or three men seeking lovers and see whether I could get myself a husband.

The idea was to lead them on, pretend that I was a vulnerable young woman looking for a serious relationship, and from there play along and see how it goes. I identified five men and established communication with them via text message.

But before I texted them, I changed my name and identity on the mobile app Truecaller to Susan. And then I introduced myself to these men as Susan Wanjeri.

Susan Wanjeri is a 28-year-old naïve woman living with her aunt in Nairobi. She runs her aunt’s salon in Kilimani and is a staunch Christian. She is looking for a God-fearing man who is ready to settle down as soon as possible. However, depending on what the man on the other line claims he wants, Susan can easily become a 23-year-old college girl who is currently pursuing a hotel management course at Technical University of Kenya.

But, before we go on, allow me to introduce to you my impressive list of suitors, give you their brief profiles and what they are looking for in a woman.

Ben is a 52-year-old Kenyan man looking for “a beautiful, intelligent, humorous, honest, inhibited and open-minded woman aged 28-35, preferably barren”.

The second is Mwangi, who is “an honest and hardworking, never-married, self-employed man from Kiambu County”. He is 5ft 8” and black in complexion, and is looking for a “beautiful Catholic lady of brown complexion, with or without a daughter, aged 23-25 years, Kikuyu or Meru”. He says the woman must be ready to settle down in a quick marriage and should also be living in Kiambu.

The third is Fendly Hilson, 47 years old and usually stationed in Juba, South Sudan, but currently in Kenya for a tour. Fendly is looking for a god-fearing, honest Kenyan woman.

The fourth is Richard Watson, a 41-year-old Briton who is looking for “a God-fearing, mature African lady for marriage”.

Last on the lovelorn list is Birdie Johnson, a 49-year-old, born-again Christian from Scotland who is “in need of a mature lady who is honest and sincere and who is ready for love that potentially leads to marriage”.

Now, let’s get to business. Here, excerpts from my four-day online romance with the men looking for love, and how it all eventually crumbled when M-Pesa was introduced into the mix:

Day One: Introductions 

I start by contacting Mwangi.

“Hi Mwangi. My name is Susan. I would like to know you better. How are you?”

Mwangi texts me back three hours later.

“Hi, tll me mr abt u”, which I assume to be; “Hi, tell me more about you.”

Then he calls. I do not pick his call nor respond to his SMS, lest he thinks I am too eager to get hitched.

I text Ben at 10am and he replies immediately with “I am good, how are you?”

I tell him I would like to know more about him, to which he responds: “What would you like to know?”

“Everything about you!”

He does not respond. Thinking I have scared him off, I politely text him two hours later: “I wanted to know where you are from and what profession you are in.”

“I am Kikuyu. I do business,” he responds two hours later.

****

I then introduce myself to Richard, but he does not respond to my texts until 9pm later that evening with: “Gd evening Susan, where a you?” (Good evening Susan, where are you)

I do not respond to his text. If he will ever ask me about that, I will tell him that I was disappointed he took so long to text me back and, being a nice, Christian girl, I am wary of men who only text a woman at night. What did he think I was, a booty call?

****

I then send an SMS to Birdie Johnson: “Hi Mr. Johnson. My name is Susan. I am a born-again Christian and I am looking for a serious guy. I would like to know you more. Thanks!”

He does not reply. Eager men, really, are hard to come by in this town.

***** 

Next on my radar is Fendly, who replies almost immediately and asks: “What is your occupation and where are you?”

“I run my aunt’s salon in Kilimani, Nairobi. What about you?”

“In Garissa initiating some educational programmes under the Unicef organisation.”

“That is quite far away. Do you ever come to Nairobi?”

“Yes, in fact I am coming over on Friday.”

“Wow! Friday seems like a good day. Could you tell me more about yourself please?”

*** 

Then the unexpected happens. Fendly calls me! Here is how the recorded phone conversation goes:

*** 

“ Morning, Susan!”

“Hi, how are you?”

“I am okay, I am doing fine.”

“How is Garissa?”

“Not bad, how is Nairobi?”

“Nairobi is great, it is a bit cold, but we are happy and blessed.”

“It was great chatting with you, but I felt that I needed to call you and hear that lovely voice that you have.”

“Aaaaw. Thanks! You also have a sweet voice.”

“Thank you dear. So, just as I have told you, I am Fendly Hilson… hello… (poor network)… I am 47 years old, I was married before but my wife passed on in a plane crash in Mexico.”

“Ooooh… so sorry!

“It’s okay. We have a lovely daughter, she is eight years old but she lives in the ’States with my family. I come from South Hampton, New City in Texas, previously worked in Juba, South Sudan for the last one year but I am now in Garissa initiating some education programmes for Unicef. We are conducting some feasibility studies. So tell me about yourself.”

“I am 28 years old and I don’t mind the age difference… hello… (phone goes off).”

*** 

I call him back 

Fendly: “Sorry about the poor network coverage.”

Me: “I would like to know you more, tell me.”

“As I told you, I work with Unicef. I want somebody who is mature, serious and God-fearing, and ready to be in a very serious relationship that can eventually lead to marriage.”

“Wow! Me too, cos’ I am tired of dating jokers.”

“I was worried whether you are comfortable with the age difference.”

“I am very serious. I am looking for a husband; I don’t mind the age difference. If the Lord has sent me somebody to me, I can’t complain.”

“You have never been in a relationship before?”

“I was, for about six months with a church member, but he was not serious. He did not want to get married and I really want to get married soon and raise a family.”

“Do you have kids”

“No. So what kind of girl do you want?”

“Oh, like I told you, I want a mature girl and I don’t mind the race, as long as you are ready and willing to commit.”

“You know I am a very religious girl. I go to church and I am a youth leader.”

“I am also a very religious guy. I am God-fearing. I am Roman Catholic, you know I am a Latin American by origin.”

“So when you come to Nairobi, whom do you live with? Do you book a hotel?”

“Imagine this is my first month in Kenya. But I need to get an apartment in Nairobi. I had already contacted a real estate agent to secure an apartment for me. But now, I am staying at the Nomad Hotel in Garissa.”

“Oh, that’s nice. When you come to Nairobi, I think we can meet, or what do you think?”

“Yes! I can put up at Safari Park Hotel before I move into my apartment. We can meet there.”

“Okay, when?”

“On Friday, as soon as I get there.”

“Okay. You have my number.”

“Sure, we can always keep in touch even before then and get to know each other before then.”

“That would be nice. Thanks, have a blessed day.”

“You too my dear.”

_______

Day Two: Chasing Wind 

I begin the day by sending a message to Richard, who had texted me late in the night, and Mwangi, whose call I missed. I also text Ben, whose message I had forgotten to reply. It is not easy juggling five men, I realise. 

Mwangi’s text went like: “Hi, tll me mr abt u, ua age, size en home” ( Hi, tell me more about you, your age, size and home); to which I responded: “I am 24 years old. I am a size eight and I live in Nairobi with my aunt.”

Mwangi does not respond to my  text. I assume he is disinterested or maybe his type is a size 12 or 14.

**** 

Richard, on the other hand, asks me when we can meet. I tell him we can meet the following day, a Thursday, because Thursdays are usually my off-days. He says he will come all the way to Nairobi from Lodwar just to meet me. Before I sleep that night he sends me a message: “I wish you a lovely night and I will let you know when I start the journey in the morning.”

**** 

My text message to Ben reads: “Hi Ben. I thought I should tell you a little about myself. I am 28-years-old, I have no kids and I live in Nairobi with my aunt. I work at her salon in Kilimani. I am also a saved girl. Looking forward to hearing from you.”

Ben does not respond to my text. I assume he is busy or maybe he thought I was not very serious because I did not respond to his message. Ben, if you are reading this, I am sorry I did not respond in time.

**** 

Fendly, on the other hand, is already calling me sweet names like ‘Darling’. He even calls me in the morning to “hear your sweet voice” and wishes me a blessed day. Later in the evening, he texts to ask how my day went and promises to call after dinner. Because I am on a date with my real boyfriend, I tell Fendly that I have just stepped into a friend’s wedding committee but promise to call him before I go to bed. Unfortunately, my date ends a bit late — at 11pm — and I am too tired to call Fendly back. (Dear Diary, I just hope Fendly is not offended by me not calling him before I sleep!)

**** 

At 5:14am, I am woken up by a text message from Richard. Remember Richard, the man who is travelling all the way from Lodwar to come to Nairobi just to see me? I must share his sweet text.

“Good morning my love. I’m on my way coming.”

At 10am, he texts me again:

“Hallo dear, I have fuelled the car and I’m paying them via card and they are not accepting. Please call you talk to them.”

I text him back immediately, asking exactly what is the problem.

**** 

Meanwhile, I realise in the morning Fendly tried to call me at around 11:30pm, shortly after I went to bed. In a streak of guilt, I send a flirtatious message to him in a bid to warm him up for not calling him last night as I promised.

“Good morning Darling. How are you this morning?”

Turns out Fendly is not offended as he texts back immediately:

“Morning too, Darling.”

I apologise on text for missing his call, and to prove he is a “total man” he calls me. He addresses me as “Babe” and says he is so happy to hear my lovely voice, and he understands that I was a bit too tired last night to call him. He even commends me for being there for my friend during her wedding preparations.

“You know it is good to give back to friends,” he says. “When things go well between us and we formalise our relationship we will also need their support in our wedding committee.”

He then tells me he is getting into a meeting and will call later. He calls late in the afternoon at around 4:30, and asks how my day was. As agreed, he wants to confirm if we are still meeting tomorrow (Friday) at Safari Park Hotel.

I tell him that I cannot wait to meet him. He says he will call again in the evening to wish me a good night. He also says that tomorrow morning he will send me money to “do bookings” at Safari Park.

I agree with all that.

(Dear Diary, I think I have found the one! I am so excited; I can’t wait to meet my Mr Right!)

**** 

Day Three: Losing Richard

On the other side, I have a crisis to deal with. A crisis manufactured by one Richard, who is “stuck” at a petrol station because the attendants have refused to accept his Visa card, and who, two hours after my message, at 12:30pm, responds:

“Get me Sh6,000. I will sort out when I reach to the bank.”

I ask him what he needs the money for and he calls me. In a heavily faked accent garnished with a dash of local twang, Richard says he is in Kitale at a fuel station. He asks whether I have a loose Sh6,000 lying somewhere in my purse, and if I can be so kind as to walk to the nearest M-Pesa agent and send him the money.

To prove he is serious, he gives the phone to the “female attendant” to explain to me the situation.

The “attendant” has an incredibly fake high-pitched voice, almost like a man feigning a woman’s voice. She tells me that she has already fuelled my potential husband’s car but this particular petrol station only takes cash. I promise to ask my sister for the money.

After a few minutes, I text Richard to tell him: “I would really like to send you the money but how sure can I be that you are not lying to me?”

He calls back, and in an agitated voice  asks me: “Darling, why are you saying I am lying to you?”

“How can I be sure?” I ask him. “I have never met you.”

“Yeah, but you know what I am going through, I can’t lie to you. Why should I lie to you Darling? I am here because of you.”

“Okay, let me see what I can do. Let me ask my sister for the money.”

“It is taking so long Darling, I need to get to my flight in Eldoret.”

“What time is your flight?”

“I want to be there by 3pm.”

“Let me look for the money.”

An hour later, he calls again to rush me to send him the money. It is 2:49pm and by now he should have missed his flight to Nairobi. I tell him my sister, who is supposed to loan me the money, is a mean woman. I ask if he has any friends in Kenya who can send him the money but he says he is new in the country and has been here for only three weeks.

At 5pm, he texts me to say: “I am worried”. I ask him why. He does not respond.

________ 

Day Four: Losing Hilson

Today is the day I will be meeting with Fendly Hilson at Safari Park Hotel, where we just might spend the night.

At 5:51am, he texts:

“Morning Darling, how was your night?”

I do not reply him, and he calls a few hours later to let me know that he has just left Garissa and will be with me by the end of the day.

At 11:30, he calls me to say he is now at Mwingi, but he has a “small problem”.  He is at a petrol station, he explains, and has just fuelled his car, but the forecourt does not accept payment via MasterCard.

He needs Sh6,500 as soon as possible, which he will refund as soon as he finds a bank.

He even, like Richard, who was “stuck in Kitale”, gives the phone to a “petrol station attendant” who is supposed to convince me to send the money. The attendant says “this mzungu does not understand a word of Kiswahili”, but he is here with his Range Rover Sport and is in dire need of cash via M-Pesa.

Fendly then sends me a Safaricom number to which I should send the money. I tell him that I will need to ask my sister for the cash, and he says he does not mind waiting. An hour later, he texts from a different number to say: “Just tell me whatever you have decided.”

I call to ask him to wait. He does not contact me again until later in the evening to ask me how my day was. I respond, asking him what happened.

“You were supposed to come!” I remind him.

He does not contact me ever again.

***** 

PS: I suspect both Richard and Fendly were texting and calling me from a warm cell in Kamiti Maximum Prison. As for the rest, well.... 

READERS’ BONUS:

Richard Watson claimed he was a 41-year-old man from Britain. He said he had only been in Kenya for a few weeks. However, his accent was nowhere near a proper Englishman’s. His ‘rs’ were exaggerated, which made my ears ring every time he called me ‘daaaarrhling’ and ‘sweethearrrt’.

His purported English accent was a mash-up of a fake drawl and an overdone urban twang that is too common among some local radio presenters.

But I will give it to him for at least giving it a try, unlike one Fendly Hilson, who said he was a Latin American from South Hampton, New City, Texas.

Hilson did not bother to fake an accent nor a twang. His obvious Luhya accent notwithstanding, Hilson’s rudimentary grasp of the Queen’s language was pathetic.