You must be really stupid to be a sponsor

True story. A middle-level manager at a big bank recently promoted some young girl to an undeserved position with hopes of enticing her to sleep with him. The young, light-skinned girl, with looks and curves to kill is, the type any man touches not, unless he can manage her lifestyle, attitude and ambition (ambition especially). The type that always goes to the man at the top.  

Once promoted, the girl promptly ignored the middle-aged chap, and started sleeping with the boss, who is older than the poor middle-level manager. Soon, the big boss promoted her to a much bigger position and just like a joke, she was soon the boss of the middle-aged manager. She started treating the man like trash. Because he is trash. My informer told me that the man overlooked a man who was more than qualified, and thinking with his penis, promoted the woman. Serves him right!

I have come to a scientific conclusion that being a sponsor is a mental handicap. I can’t afford to be a sponsor on a columnist's income and this could be sheer envy. But still...  

I don’t mind men who keep one decent mistress. I don’t mind occasional gifts for women who offer bodily comfort and help these men rediscover their youth. But to treat these women as second wives (if older) or daughters (if younger) and allowing them to fleece you with entitlement, borders on insanity.

Nairobi’s Roysambu, Donholm and Ruaka are where young women are kept and their only business in Nairobi is to look good and be available any time the man has an erection. A young garrulous female friend recently told me that it is sponsors who fund her lavish lifestyle, a lifestyle that I can't afford in 10 lifetimes.

Sponsors have flipped the game for broke men. I never thought that there will come a time in my life when a woman, seven years younger than me, will buy me an expensive whisky, all the while confessing how men are stupid, especially sponsors.

Most sponsors are of course tenderpreneurs, drug lords or sugar barons; because no sane person who earns a salary like all of us, can spend Sh25,000 monthly on a badly finished one-bedroom in South B.

Most sponsors tend to ignore their families materially and emotionally. You will find the wife boiling carrots and cabbages with nothing in the refrigerator, while the young girl he keeps has her fridge well stocked and her exorbitant salon expenses well taken care of.

That a young woman can make an old man go gaga is one of the problems facing this nation and need to be addressed. I have seen so many older men lose their heads over 24-year-old university girls. A while back, some controversial businessman (read a stupid political broker), kicked out a young woman from an apartment in Lang’ata, because he discovered that she has a boyfriend. What did the fat man expect? He can hardly last a second in bed, and wants to compete with younger men with enough fuel in their loins?!

Most sponsors always end up heartbroken, unless they are open-minded. Men tend to be possessive, but you can’t be 49 years old, dealing with a lifestyle disease, and still  imagine that you can match the libido of a 26-year-old woman who likes deep-fried chicken! You can’t own or control a woman, but can only be thankful for the few hours or days she gives you, even though you will pay dearly for it.

I have learnt that any woman who chooses to go for sponsors will hardly settle for just one. She will try to have as many sponsors as she can manage to compartmentalise. She then dumps those sponsors who develop feelings or start to cheat that they can marry her. She doesn't want marriage. She wants you to buy her a car, pay for her two-bedroom apartment in Lang’ata or buy her expensive electronics. You can consider your miserable and occasional one shot, if they are available, as enough compensation.

Real men marry second wives or keep decent mistresses. They don’t adopt young women and pay for their expensive lifestyles.

I know a dozen men who lost their jobs, or their businesses went belly up and their young chicks took off, leaving them kwa mataa licking their wounds.