I woke up to the nauseating sight of a man I didn’t even know on top of me,” reads a statement recorded in Kiswahili by a woman in the Occurrence Book of Kasarani Police Station.
“Shocked at what was happening, I begged him to put on a condom but he completely ignored me. After he was done, his colleague took over.”
Records at the police station indicate that the woman, in her mid 20s, woke up to this horror at about 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning. The day was breaking, the early risers getting ready for yet another new day. But she was at the worst and darkest point of her life.
How did she get here? Whose house was this? Where was it located? And who, in God’s good name, were these men who had spent the night raping her in her drunken stupor?
All she could remember was that, on the evening before this dark and ghoulish morning, she had walked into Tribeka, a popular night club at the city centre, to have a drink or two before heading home. She was alone, she says, and she hoped to have a couple of beers, dance a little and catch a bus home.
As she settled down, the DJ pumping out disco beats at bone-conduction level, a short, dark and stocky man asked to join her. Be my guest, she told him. That turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.
The man introduced himself as a captain (she can’t remember what he captained), told her he worked at the United Nations office in Gigiri and ordered for drinks. From then on, the night was his.
She just sat there, sipping her drinks and listening to the exploits of Mr Captain, and that’s all she remembers about the evening.
The next thing, she was on that bed, with a man on top of her. She was too weak and disoriented to do anything, and after trying to reason with the men in vain, she passed out again.
She does not know whether she was drugged again or whether it was the shock of what was going on that blacked her out, but she says the next time she came to, she was out on the alleyways of Kasarani.
She reported her case at the Kasarani Police Station, where police officers told us they were still investigating her case.
At Tribeka, where her ordeal begun, the manager started by telling us he was new at the helm of the joint, then proceeded to say he was not aware of any drugging complaint filed against the club, probably because the woman had not reported her ordeal to the establishment in the first place.
But this woman’s case is not an isolated event, and Tribeka is not the only night club that has become a hunting ground for druggists. We asked the police at Kasarani to allow us to peruse through their files for any such incidents reported to them over the past few weeks. The results were astounding.
On Sunday, June 16 this year, Douglas Wanjohi and John Njogu filed a complaint with the police. In it, they said that, on the previous evening, they had gone to Car Wash Pub in Kasarani for a night of merry making.
As the evening got warmer and livelier, they were joined by two reasonably beautiful, decently dressed and intelligent-sounding women. They laughed, danced, drunk and had their fun into the deep hours of the night, when one of the men suggested they all leave and go to his house for more fun.
On arrival, they had more drinks before their sleep-weary eyes gave in. But not everyone fell asleep. While the men collapsed in a heap, the women, it later turned out, had other ideas about them.
In between the groaning and foaming, the women were bust packing anything they deemed valuable and carting it out of the house. It was only after neighbours raised the alarm that the two men woke up, looked around and realised they had been robbed.
They rushed outside only to meet their female visitors, apprehended by watchful neighbours, and their wares all over the place. The women had managed to smuggle out, among other things, a 40-inch television set, a microwave oven and Sh14,000 when someone smelled a rat and started questioning them.
At the police station, the women were identified as Anne Wanjiru, 28, and Gladys Mbugua, 31. Their male accomplice, 23-year-old Robert Orieko, had been helping them cart the goods away when someone tapped his shoulder and asked him to remain calm, else....
These two incidents illustrate a trend that has caught up in Nairobi and other urban centres over the past few years, and which seems to grow by the night despite numerous media reports. The tragedy is that most of the victims rarely report their ordeals to the police, somehow ashamed by the fact that their night-time activities were their undoing.
That silence, coupled with the sneaky ways of the attackers and their hard-to-police ways, mean that, every Friday, tens of, especially, young girls are dragged into dingy rooms, their muscles all spaghetti courtesy of the cocktail of sedatives and hypnotic drugs coursing through their veins, and raped for hours on end.
Kasarani police boss Paul Saitoti, however, says the trend seems to be shifting, with women now featuring a lot on the offensive side.
“From the cases I have handled,” he says, “the women seem quite decent and intelligent, and their targets are Nairobi’s savvy middle-class men. They will ask you leading questions about work, marital status and residence in such a way that you’ll think nothing of the vital information you are disclosing.”
That seemingly harmless, beer-inspired banter opens the door to your life and, before you know it, your house as well.
At Car Wash Pub, where the two men at the start of this story picked their female company for the night, the manager, Mr Mwangi, says that was the first of two incidents reported there in the past three years.
The first involved one of his regular clients, who made the mistake of allowing one woman to join him in the course of his merry making. What happened next has been the subject of speculation since then. Some say the couple left for another club in the middle of the night. Others say they headed for the man’s home. No one is sure.
What everyone knows, though, is that the man was found outside Car Wash the following morning, dead asleep inside his car and wearing nothing but a condom.
The ladies come in pairs, explains Mwangi. They look and sound decent and take a table at a strategic place before ordering drinks. As the night dances on, they’ll move to different tables, either on request from men or by inviting themselves.
Once they strike a rapport with the men, they order the same drinks as the men and request the waiter to bring in more glasses. This ensures they can make an easy switch of drinks without their targets noticing.
Others, however, play the victim. On May 31, a man we shall only identify as Andrew joined the thousands who thronged The Carnivore for Ramogi Night, a Luo-themed cultural event that is part of a string of other such nights targeting various ethnic groups.
Andrew was joined by a male friend for what both hoped would be the cultural night of their lives. Across the floor, two women gyrated their waists seductively at them, having spotted their targets but keeping their cards closer to their chests.
Like people drawn together by fate, the four, who had never met before, joined each other at about 3.00am. Andrew says the night was a cold as ice, so he offered one of the women his jacket. She accepted the offer and thanked him profusely.
The introductions over and the woman now warmer, the ladies asked Andrew where he stayed.
Kasarani, he told them.
What a coincidence! they beamed. We live there as well, so would you be a good boy and drop us home?
No problem, Andrew replied.
A few more beers to tail off the night and off they were in Andrew’s car towards Kasarani. He says his intention was not to take the women to his house, but since he was tired after a night of dancing and drinking, he decided to let them sleep at his place and shake off the alcohol. His friend, however, said he would stagger his way home, and so off he went.
At his house, Andrew gave the two women a pair of duvets and asked them to find comfort in his living room, then he locked all the doors, save that to his bedroom, placed the keys under his pillow, and went to sleep.
“I woke up at around 7:00 in the morning to some pretty bad smell and an eerie quietness about the house,” he remembers. “The door to my bedroom had been shut yet I had left it ajar. Something was not right, so I stepped out into the living room... and got the shock of my life.”
His television was missing, along with his home theatre music system, his barely used iPad, some Sh35,000 he planned to use to pay rent the following day, his mobile phone, carpet, all his glassware... even his DVD collection.
Andrew believes there was something fishy in that foul smell, and that something must have been popped into his drink when they arrived home. He reported the matter to the police and, together, they followed the trail of his lost goods.
As of last week, they had arrested a young man who says he bought some of the goods from a stranger, and whose parents have agreed to settle the matter out of court.
Another man, who prefers to be referred by his first name only, David, says he has been the victim of such women — twice. In December 2011, David stepped into Samba Club along Moi Avenue in Nairobi for a night of dancing and drinking.
After spotting a lady who seemed lonely at a table nearby, David summoned the guts in his life and asked her whether he could join her.
After a couple of drinks, he went to the washrooms, came back and asked her whether she would like to join him for the rest of the night. She obliged, and off they went.
David says he does not know what happened, and that all he remembers is that he woke up at 7:00 in the morning at a roadside in Pangani, his shoes, belt and wallet gone. From the bruises on his elbow and shoulders, he says he must have been thrown off a moving vehicle.
His second run-in with the wrong type of revellers happened at Buru Buru’s Attitude Club last year. The script reads the same: he went into a club with a male friend, spotted two ladies and invited them for a drink.
Despite his friend’s concerns, they all ended up at his house in Karen at about 2.00am and, having been bitten once, he locked all doors and hid the key. He woke up at 2.00pm the next day and found the girls cooking in the kitchen.
“They told me they would leave after having lunch,” he says, “so I left them in the kitchen and went about other business around the house. I think they must have popped something into my food because immediately after the meal, I dozed off. I woke up late into the evening, my house virtually empty.”
Kasarani OCS says while the police will do all they can to trace the druggists, the best remedy is to ensure one does not fall prey in the first place. “Watch your back,” he advises.