For whatever reason, one of our friends persuaded us that we come this far. At first we were reluctant, but as we sit here having one so many, we are proud of him.
We are proud not because we are part of the ‘happenings’ that we are observing, but rather we are fascinated.
Hanging out far and wide, we now rate this place, Kachere—on the outskirts of Limbe along the Blantyre to Zomba road, as ‘the king of red-districts in Malawi’.
We hear this place knows no day or night, ‘things’ happen here. And, indeed, our naked eyes are observing some of the ‘things’.
As we are busy sipping and chatting at this open bar, one of the leisure joints around here, some girl sitting nearby picks up a quarrel.
“Kwa Kachere kuno kulibe mwamuna wamwini ndiye osati mfwee-mfwee pano ayi (all men are up for grabs here at Kachere and no one can claim she is sole owner of a man here)!” she exclaims.
But her friend is not amused with her statement. Immediately she showers lots of insults on the other, punctuating the torrents of obscenities with the sharp slaps.
“Jane, undimva kuwawa, siine munthu wake. Amene uja ndi mwamuna wanga ndiye sungakalowe naye ku room (I am not someone to play with, that man is mine and how dare you go with her to the rest house room for a quickie),” she shouts.
Other ladies of their trade, some as young as 12 years, surround the two. Some sympathise with Jane while others feel she deserves the beating.
“Ameneyu ali ndi vuto, kukonda amuna ayeni (this Jane has a problem, she likes flirting with her friends’ men friends)!” says one of the spectators, obviously enjoying the beating.
A bar man separates the two by scaring them he was calling the police.
“What is wrong with you girls of Kachere? When a man picks you for a quickie you start behaving as if he is your husband! Your quarreling will scare off my customers, osangopana ena bwanji (why not just grab other men),” he says.
Joe, our friend decides to be a pacifier. He buys each of the girls a beer and invites them to where we are sitting, and we engage them into some conversation.
The new found peace is disrupted by this man who has just entered the joint. He comes and grabs the girl who was slapping Jane.
“Where is my wallet and phone? You thought I could not trace you here? If you do that to other men, I am a different breed of men; and let me tip you that some woman who did the same things you have done to me, is now at mental hospital in Zomba don’t ask me how it happened, just give me back my things,” he shouts as he drags her towards the exit.
“Mwaonatu vuto la mayi amenewa (you have seen now that that lady has a problem),” says Jane as we all wonder what must have happened between them.
Sensing our fear the bar man says: “Don’t worry; there are also good ladies here at Kachere. Don’t think of going away as I am organising good company for you.”
The company is in before he finishes talking. Five very young girls, looking more of school kids, and are all in smiles.
“Dad, I drink a beer and my friends take ciders and wine. In case your companions want any of my friends, I have a room nearby so they can go there immediately you and me comes back,” says the young girl who calls herself Jesse, as she sits on Joe’s lap uninvited.
We share glances in shock. The way the girls behave show that they are very professional ‘Leisure Assistants’ (sex workers).
“Well, let us just drink first; it is too early to start sneaking. Welcome girls, let us have fan,” Joe says.
I wonder why the girl has sensed that Joe is the one having the fattest wallet today.
“Mowa opanda kanyenya sukoma, eti magaye (drinking beer without snacks is not exciting, what do you think guys)!” another of the girl says, as she beckons a young man mastering the joint’s braii.
“Brings us some five plates full of your snacks and bring the bill to this gentleman,” says the girl, pointing at ‘Atsogoleri’ Rob M, as she draws her stool close to him.
We immediately realise that we will all return home without any cash in our wallets and pockets
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