Memoirs of a Bolt Guy: Kayanmata


By Victor Kwame Sampong
I have never before met anyone who uses Kayanmata products, even though I had heard about them, yet still doubt their potency.
I’ve always heard it from the media whenever the woman that sells the product is in the news for one reason or the other, but my belief system changed during the week when I received an order from Rumuekini, after dropping off a client one evening.
She wasn’t far from my earlier drop-off point so it was easy to locate the street and I parked right in front of her building.
As she made her way from the shadows, a narrow passage, and walked to the door. I released the central lock for the woman and another lady, I later found out to be her sister to get in. I put the car in reverse and took off after verbal confirmation of their destination.
Both girls were scantily dressed and hailed from the South-South region that had an ‘uncommon governor’ who’s now a minister too, at least I got this from their conversation.
They got right into their sumptuous gist, ranging from hiding illegal stuff from security agencies during stop and search and their serious and unserious clients cum boyfriends.
And that was how they got into the gist that pricked my interest.
Eno told her sister, Idara how one of their friends had accused her of using ‘Kayanmata’ because she successfully took one of her paymasters from her clutches. {According to, “Kayanmata” originated from the Northern part of Nigeria. It refers to herbs or potions that act as sex or love enhancers for couples. The products have been trending on social media as the merchants openly advertise them and also post their clients’ testimonies on the efficacy}
Eno didn’t bother denying the allegations, as she heartily accepted it and was even bragging about it to her sister and colleague in the business, attesting to its potency, much to the surprise and delight of Idara.
As if Idara knew what I had in mind, because, at that point, I was eager to jump in curiously with some questions in order to gain some more knowledge about the workings of this product. Idara then asked a question about the ‘Kayanmata’ that touched one grey area I had always harped on. How is it applied?
Eno explained that she had a waist bead and also applies a lotion to her ‘honey pot’, both of which makes her taste sweeter than usual, hence, her customers would keep demanding for more.
As I watched from my rear view mirror, I could tell Idara was very impressed as she was smiling all through. Well, her sister and obviously, senior and more experienced colleague promised to hook her up with her usual plug, so that she too would be in high demand.
As I dropped both ladies off at a hotel in Woji Town, I kept wondering to myself why Eno would still be living in a one-room apartment despite the success of her performance-enhancing products which keeps her several steps ahead of her colleagues and most notably, her sister, who seems to be a novice in the game.
If the universe smiles on me and we cross paths again, be rest assured I’ll be bold enough to dive in this time with questions about prices and location of products, and if there are any available for my gender too. Abi who no like better thing?
Until then, I’ve got a rider waiting. Ciao!
The delivery man
We were just getting into the fuel scarcity situation at the time in Port Harcourt, though it was still early days yet, but we were already feeling the pains from not being able to purchase this premium commodity that affects every aspect of Nigerian life.
In what was a smart move from me at the time, I had filled up my tank a day earlier, in anticipation of the situation. So, I was able to work, while most of my colleagues were running from pillar to post looking for the tiniest drops of fuel for their cars.
So, that night, due to less drivers on the road, there was massive surge in demand and prices shot up. It’s always a time E-hailing drivers look forward to, at least those that can be on the road when others cannot.
I was in Agip Estate, fresh from dropping off someone when my phone beeped. I checked the pick-up distance and it was indeed very far and way off my radius. I didn’t know how I mistakenly accepted the order.
Almost immediately, a call came through and the person wanted me to come to Rumukwurusi, by Eastern Polytechnic. I explained to them that the distance is beyond me. As if that was not enough pains, I inquired about their destination, and the client said a hospital at Eleme Junction and much further probing revealed the estimated price to be Five Hundred Naira.
Haba mana! How do I drive from Woji Estate to almost Tank Junction, then to Eleme Junction for a paltry Five Hundred Naira? By almost 1am? Same thing I told them; that it doesn’t make any economic sense to me.
The pleadings started thereafter, how they had been rejected numerous times that night due to distance, as there was no one within their radius. It was when she told me she was heavily pregnant and about to give birth that all the resistance in me disappeared. I assured her that I was on my way.
I got to the Eastern Polytechnic Junction, but the directions they gave me were terrible. I spent another twenty minutes trying to locate them, until the woman and a young guy I later got to know to be her husband’s brother appeared on the road behind me. I reversed and picked them up for onward movement to the hospital, just by the Eleme Junction flyover.
We got there in no time and she went in and the brother-in-law tried to pay me which I declined. She was already in labour and I was eager to see the outcome. So, I waited till she gave birth. I was told the baby was a boy. I was happy at that point. So, when the guy tried to pay me again, I rejected, but on the basis that the newborn baby boy be named after me, for all my efforts in bringing him into this world. I deserve it na.
I left shortly afterwards, but not without leaving my number with them.
Unlike Mr. Ejiofor of a few weeks back, her husband called me the next day to express his gratitude. He also requested for my account details. But I insisted on my earlier demands…name the child after me…simple!
Oh well, I eventually told him to use the said funds for the baby’s diapers & wipes. My own widow’s mite contribution. I’ll go see the child later. Maybe, just maybe… he’ll have my nose or eyes.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *