Her Royal Highness

It was while I was Technical Manager at Winsore College Preparatory School that I first met the Princess where she was a parent. For some strange reason Sarah, her adoptive daughter, had taken to me even though I was not a teacher per se, therefore was not in much in contact with the children. I was in charge of all the computing function at the school, with up to 64 computers under my care. This work meant that I worked closely not just with the IT teacher, but with others who were working at integrating ICT into the curriculum. In the computer lab I had to make sure everything was running as it should. When the children came into the computer department, they had to pass through the alcove that I worked in as they entered the lab.

This little girl liked to come right up to my bench as I worked on computers, modems, printers, cables or any of all manner of software for them. She would ask me what I was doing and I took pleasure explaining it to her, though I feared a lot of it would certainly be over her head. She liked the pictures of Old Nairobi that I was using for my forthcoming book called Mile 327: A Guidebook of Nairobi. I had started writing it some months before and I was nearing completion. The teacher, or sometimes I, often had to order her away from my desk. She was a 'touchy-feely' girl who would touch my hands, shoulders or back and liked to make contact with whomever she was with. Her form teacher did not think it was critical at that stage as she was still only eight, but it was thought that that tendency was a recipe for trouble in later years.

She it was who, probably unintentionally, introduced me to her mother, the Princess. Despite her royal birth, Princess Patricia was very down to earth. One afternoon, during a netball match with Brookhouse School on our grounds,some parents had come to cheer our team. I joined them and other staff on Front Pitch. The girls played very well making the final score very nearly even, but in our favour. Sarah came off the pitch, hugged a smart lady quite close to where I was seating, then came to ask me if I saw her score two goals.

"Of course I am very proud of you girls! You played like the champions you are. Those two goals of yours certainly helped us win the match. Well done!" I told her. She laid her head against my shoulder and I could not avoid rubbing her young shoulders in congratulations.

"Mum, this is my favourite teacher. He tells me wonderful things about computers," she told the smart lady. I was slightly shocked to discover that I was seated so close to royalty.

The Princess stretched out her hand to me. "I do believe I have heard what a sterling job you are doing in the computer line. But have we ever met?"

"I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Your Royal Highness!"

"Oh, please stop that. Just call me Princess Patricia."

"I am Roger Kuria." We made small talk briefly before it was time to leave.

They moved off, Sarah holding her mother's hand. As they took the path that would take them past the Music Gallery and into the parking lot, she waved at me. The Princess turned slightly and gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod.

The next morning Sarah came and placed a small Carrefour gift bag on my desk. "From my mother and I," she said simply. When I looked inside I found a giant bar of fine chocolate and a bottle of vintage French wine.

'What did this girl tell the Princess about me to entice her to buy this kind of present for me,' I wondered. At the end of the computer lesson I sent Sarah to thank her mother. She gave me such a sunny smile, that it might have been she who got a present from me. But now I hit a crisis. What would a fitting present be for a Princess of the realm? I couldn't think straight. Yet I couldn't let this gesture go unanswered.

Eventually it hit me. I would get her one of those traditional three-legged stools embedded with coloured beads from Kariokor market. I had it wrapped securely in dried banana leaves and coarse string. This sent a strong signal that I was getting her something of our culture, when I could easily have walked into Two Rivers Mall and bought a fine whisky. When I saw Sarah, I told her to be sure to tell her driver to speak to me when he came to collect her in the evening. The Princess had never married but chose instead to adopt a little girl. Since the stool was a male symbol in the household, it meant I recognized her role as father, as well as mother.

I heard nothing for the next few days, but early one morning, before going to class for registration Sarah brought me an envelope. In it was a card with wishes for All Saints' Day thanking me for the gift and asking me if I could join her and a few family and friends for an evening cocktail. 'These royals will have a party at the drop of a hat!' I said to myself.

I was introduced to ambassadors, CEOs and some highly decorated military men, who had here for exercises with our armed forces. Patricia was very attentive to me, noticing when my glass was nearly drained and signaling the waiters or offering me the delicious bitings available. Sarah surprised me by coming to jump onto my lap, chattering away. It must have indicated to those present that I had a special relationship with this family. But better was yet to come.

A month or so after this Patricia invited me to a dinner, at which only her friend Mrs Tina Prentice, the Princess, Sarah and myself were present. Though we ate well enough at school this was on a decidedly higher level. Patricia was even more attentive to me than at the cocktail. Tina regaled us with stories of their recent trip with her husband up to the Masai Mara, where a herd of elephants who had broken out of the fence, trampling the locals' crops were eventually fetched back into the park. They seemed to be in a bad temper and trumpeted deafeningly. The humans spent a very anxious night worried that the elephants might turn on them, trampling their tent flat before burying them with branches!

Sarah was wide-eyed with fright at the thought of being out in the wilds at night with a herd of elephants nearby. I tried to comfort her that elephants do not usually attack people unless the humans lit fires or did something else to alarm the elephants.

Tina was very enthralled when Patricia told her that I had been writing a book, whose manuscript had recently been handed over to the publishers. She became so enthusiastic about it and promised to organise a Book Launch as soon as it came out, which we expected would be later in the year.

When I was leaving at about 11pm, Sarah in her usual manner hugged me goodnight and it was the first time that the Princess went beyond shaking my hand. She pulled me in to her and embraced me warmly as she wished me a safe drive home and a goodnight. It made the blood race in my veins!

In appreciation I sent her a painting of an African family gathered around the fire in their hut in the evening, which she hung it at the first landing on the staircase. I could not remember what had been hanging in that space before, but the next time I was invited over I commented on her choice of place to display the painting.

"I have developed a love of these African paintings since I came here," she replied. "I thought my stay here to acquaint myself with the habitat of white rhino would only take a few weeks. Instead, I found myself restless after returning home." She was the patron of the Royal White Rhino Protection Society. "Two months later I was back to stay."

"What affected you in that way?" I asked.

"Well, the country is so much calmer than it is at home. But the weather was the clincher for me. When I learnt that you never lose four months out of the year because of the bitter winter cold, I wanted to live here for the rest of my life. My mother was not best pleased, but since I am no higher than fifth in line for the throne, I pointed out it was perfectly safe for me to leave. What chance is there that my brothers and their sons will die off, leaving me the sole heir?"

"None that I can see!" I replied calmly.

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"I would never in a million years have imagined that I would meet a special someone in Africa. The royals keep to themselves so much that they never meet those they term as commoners. Only a few royal men have ever married outside royal circles, but it is even harder for us women to be approached by non-royals."

Patricia and I were lying on her queen sized bed, after a very satisfying romp in the sheets. As I twirled her nipple between my fingers I said cheekily, "We non-royals also like to keep to ourselves, to avoid being humiliated by being refused by those exalted ones!"

Patricia picked up on my theme. "Two sets of time-honoured traditions have been broken tonight!" She chuckled at this in a voice I thought of as rather musical.

We turned to each other and exchanged a huge wet kiss. Before we knew it, hands had encircled bodies, legs had intertwined and the blood, blue and otherwise, was racing. One pair of legs parted, genitals closed upon each other, causing their owners to moan in anticipation. My cock was soon enveloped in that royal pussy. Soon only the wet sounds of bodily union could be heard, interrupted by groans and moans of pleasure. A grunt was followed by a squeal before the wet sounds diminished. An eavesdropper would have divined that they had hit a climax. Soft sounds of kissing came next.

"Oh, I am so glad I escaped from our stuffy island home. This is paradise!"

"Thank you Your Royal Highness for all your sweet love!" I knew before it happened that she would retaliate for using that title. I felt a sharp pain as she pinched my bum, causing me to try and escape from the confined space, but her legs were securely locked around my torso. We giggled like kids while she threatened to repeat the pinch, and I squirmed around trying to evade her hand.

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'Mile 327' was being launched at the Sankara Hotel in Westlands. Somehow Tina had gotten hold of the Deputy President as the guest of honour at the event. As the hour approached invitees were arriving and being ushered into the Frangipani Room. They were scrutinized minutely by security owing to the presence of the DP as well as of the Princess, although not many would know who she was.

Patricia came incognito, and was placed on the front row just below the podium where the DP, various dignitaries including my home MP, my coauthor and myself were seated. The book was highly praised by all the speakers. I narrated how I had read a guidebook on London. When I had finished reading it, I was so informed about that city and its antecedents, that it was as if I had actually lived there. Immediately, I thought that someone should do the same for our beloved Nairobi, but at the time did not think that I would have any part in such a project, let alone being the principal author!

Mention too, was made of my time travel novel that was soon forthcoming from another publisher. Also I had had a number of travel articles published in various magazines, copies of which were available for sale at the door, on a table beside the one at which I autographed copies of 'Mile 327'. Tina Prentice had suggested this magazine table as a useful addition, and it brought in quite an amount.

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Three Point was a residential property just on the edge of Nairobi County. Ivan, the project owner had two dwellings on it, one more than fifty years old and the other nearing thirty. He had a vision of putting up a twelve or fifteen storey block of one- and two-bedroomed flats in this quarter-acre plot. He had no money of his own, however.

What he did have was a wealth of ideas. He had, under his own steam, developed a project proposal with spreadsheets of figure work accompanying. It was very impressive especially when it was realised that he had never worked in real estate, but rather as an ICT consultant. I knew him from having worked together in the past. Ivan had tried interesting banks, developers and savings societies in the project, but had drawn a blank. It seemed the more others who had looked at the proposal, the more reluctant a new prospect became. I, on the other hand, had a gut feeling that it was worthwhile. The Princess, having made a decision for Kenya, wanted to start investing, but had to feel her way before she jumped in with both feet.

Three Point was something that would suit her tastes perfectly as she did not want to deal with large property firms, who would likely demand a large cut. On the other hand an unknown individual was dangerous, as they may have no actual property and were only out to make that money and then vanish into thin air. Thus the investor would not only lose the prospect of making a profit, but the initial investment as well! I used a lawyer friend to craft a water-tight agreement, in which investor and owner created a 'special project vehicle' which would own the land and would receive the funds, oversee the progress of the project and finally, manage the property so developed and disburse any proceeds to both.

The Princess was happy to have me hold her hand in this way. Once architectural drawings were submitted to the county offices for approval and paid for it took a relatively short time to receive the stamped documents.

This allowed marketing efforts to begin. Meanwhile, the contractor arrived on site. Both old structures were pulled down; the contractor salvaged some materials he thought could use elsewhere. Ivan as the owner, according to the agreement was to be paid 'relocation costs' amounting to the price of one of the units. He found accommodation for himself and his aged mother while construction went ahead.

I sought the Princess' permission to take her to the site. She saw the actual ground, the trenches for the foundations and met the contractor. None of the people there had any idea who she was, or even what her involvement in the project was. The owner had wanted to hold a groundbreaking ceremony, but I vetoed it on the grounds of Patricia's security.

Meanwhile she bought five apartments in the Lavington area for rental purposes, and put in a consideration in a manufacturing concern. I also held her hand in acquiring a beach property in Mombasa. Each of these was worth five times or more the value of Three Point. When 80% of the latter was complete, the units had all been sold so that Patricia could be paid her return. She had stipulated, when she saw that the project would actually come into being, that she retain some ten or so units instead of receiving cash. You can imagine, dear reader, that I felt some relief at this first success.

Her greatest source of satisfaction however, was not those units that she retained, the proceeds she expected therefrom, nor yet the large investment she had made at the coast. She maintained that it was the change she saw in Ivan. He had been struggling to make ends meet, his clothes were of poor quality, and he had had to rely on public transport, unable to afford even the smallest car.

Now he was part-owner in a complex which boasted laundry, stationery and cyber services, from which he accrued income, as well as the rents. He told her that he had not wanted to become rich, but merely to come back into his own level. She averred that this change in one man's life was worth more than she had gained in this country, save for meeting Roger Kuria.

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The Queen's daughter next told me she wanted me to move away from the rural area that was my home to some other location. I had no inclination to live anywhere else and was quite comfortable where I was.

"You don't want my security people to raise objections when I wanted to visit you, do you?" she posed. "They cannot overrule my decisions, but I refrain, as far as possible, from acting against their advice."

My surprise that she could have been thinking of such a thing must have been writ all over my face.

"Just what I thought!" and she laughed a wicked kind of laugh. "You did not really expect that we would be such good friends, sharing our lives, and I would not come to your place?"

"My house, my humble house?" My voice was shrill as I tried to imagine the Princess in my house, and failed utterly.

"Well, I have set a date for my coming. My private Secretary has it down in my diary. It is now your choice where I find you!" Surely it could not be said that she was royal for nothing.

Coming from anybody else, this ultimatum would have been pure bullying. But I knew she only wanted the best for me.

Two days later Sarah brought a thick brown envelope to my desk. "How are you Mr Kuria?" No word about the envelope.

"I am very well, Sarah! How are things at home?"

"Pretty good. Mummy is so happy these days."

"I must come and see these things for myself! Thank you for the envelope."

I could hardly wait to see what was in the envelope. I tore it open with trembling hands. I saw Patricia's monogrammed notepaper and a wad of notes. Casting these aside I unfolded the note. "Your choice where I find you!" it said simply. I lowered my hand to the desk and simply stared at the screen in front of me, seeing nothing. I now had no escape. This money, which she apparently did not want a record of anywhere, was to enable me to move to a more salubrious neighborhood where her coming would pass unnoticed.

I sent her a private message of thanks at a loss to explain even to myself how my life had changed so suddenly, all because a "touchy-feely" eight-year old had chosen to like me.

Of course I set matters in motion to find a house in Kileleshwa or Riverside Drive. As it turned out I found a flat in a newly built block along Riverside.

I decided now was as good a time as any for a makeover. Only my bed, once the mattress had been dry-cleaned, was to make the move to my new dwelling. I either gave away all the other furniture, or had it knocked down or burnt. My stereo went to my nephew along with the tabletop gas cooker. I took all my books, computers and printer with me.

"Have you gotten a promotion?" my sister wanted to know. The three of them came to help me with the move. They were standing in my bedroom admiring the new curtains, carpet and quilt that the youngest had helped me to shop for, along with those of the rest of the house. They had an inkling that I was moving in high society, but at that stage thought it was only because of new associations due to my job (which was partly true, of course).

If I told you how near I was to my darling Princess' I might breach security protocol, but you can take it from me that I could drive from my new flat to her private residence within a pretty short time.

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"You are set to become Prince Consort," she suddenly announced to me one evening at supper.

I glared at her in stupefied silence. My jaw must have dropped onto the floor. I had come across the term in my reading adventures, but had no recollection of what it meant. "Who is that, Darling?"

"The husband of a Princess sometimes takes that title," she said. "Mine is a special case as I am an only daughter, my mother did not confer it upon my father, her own consort, and my great-aunt's husband who last held the title, died six years ago. Being vacant, I have laid claim to it for you."

My tongue continued to be stuck, like that of a giraffe to the roof of my mouth. I could only take recourse to getting up, moving behind her chair and hugging her, kissing her ears to express some of my feeling. I would now not be a mere lover but her husband and a bona fide member of the Royal Family!

I begged pardon for breaking meal protocol, but then this too, was a special case!

That night she wrapped herself around my body and made sweet, passionate love to me, nearly driving me crazy.