I am not an unprepared person, and above all I did not come from Italy to be cheated.
I landed in Malindi with clear ideas. I spend six months of the year here, I leave to that country the fog, the cold and the grey, I leave that bitch of an ex-wife, the money for the university to the children who do not even go and eat it, one in cocaine and the other in heavy metal concerts, and I leave the breakages in the hands of the accountant. 
Here I find a kind climate, sometimes a beastly heat, fresh fish and many beautiful girls. 
And I look around, that sooner or later I will move permanently.
But be careful! I'm not one to fall for it ... this is not paradise, I know that well.
A friend, then, gave me a little book written, he says, by someone who lives in Kenya and knows a lot about it. 
Or at least he is someone who is informed and tells it well.
So thanks to this booklet, and the advice of my friend, I found a nice little flat to rent in the centre of town for two hundred euros a month, then I was introduced to a good lawyer, who assists me in financial transactions, asking much less than what I was getting in Italy from brokers and fucking consultants for every movement or transaction. I have also set up a small business, just to have something to do, although with the income from the house and the shop I had in Italy, here I live very well. I can afford the restaurant twice a week, I have a maid eight hours a day, who is very good but difficult to get hold of, and a secretary who is incapable but very industrious in that other respect. 
More or less like in Italy, but spending a tenth.
I move well, like someone who has always lived around here. 
I can smell the smart fellow countrymen and the scheming ones, the good people and the Kenyans who are worth visiting. I respect everyone and am respected. 
In the evening, I sometimes feel a bit lonely. After the news, I go out for a walk, because it is always warm here and it is good outside too, almost better than at home. 
I'm sitting in a local bar, with a cocacola baridi in my hand.
A beautiful statuesque girl approaches me, a big cougar of the kind you don't even see at night in Treviglio, maybe because they're too dark, who knows. Not my secretary! That one, however industrious, has the femininity of a mahogany shelf. 
This one is shapely, busty, with lips that taste of sin. A sin would be not to sit her down, not to offer her a drink. I can do it safely, without risking anything; I've studied the lesson in the book anyway: the Naomicambells in these parts are extremely dangerous. Worse than the Sirens of Ulysses, they make you fall in love and then they clean you out for good. But I won't end up like that. 
"How are you? What's your name? From Malindi?" my English ends here, but luckily (and this is also written in the book) she speaks and understands Italian.
"Well, thank you...my name is Jane..."
Jane, sounds like "hyena" to me. I wonder where she comes from, to fleece me. 
They're all from Nairobi, even the ones in the unknown villages, the book says. Maybe it's because they want to give the impression of being citizens, and not coming from the huts in the bush. Nairobi is a modern city, it is the capital... there is culture, work, good places, many opportunities. Other than this town of wretches and Arabs, other than the derelict world that you find around the corner of the resorts. 
Here only mud and palm trees, toothless old men begging for money and children asking for candy. 
"Are you from Nairobi?"
"No, I'm from Matumbuku."
"Ah...interesting...what did you say?"
"Matumbuku, it's a village near Machakos." 
"Um... is that where Machakos is?"
"Not far from Nairobi."
"Ah... that's it... near Nairobi... now I understand..."
"Yes."
"And what were you doing in...?
"Matumbuku.
"Matumbuku.
What do you want a piece of girl like that to do...they tell you that they are all students, or they have just finished school and come to Malindi to look for work in tourism...that's what all the ones who want to cheat you say. She really has the face of a graduate, this one. It makes me laugh. I just want to hear what lies she tells me... the schoolgirl.
"I didn't really do anything. I stayed at home and helped my mother, but as soon as I could I went out to have fun with my friends. I didn't like studying and I was bored. So when I was fifteen I went to Machakos, then I moved to Nairobi, then to Mombasa and finally I came here to Malindi.
Here... she doesn't study, she doesn't have a job. This one is even more cunning than the others, she pretends to be sincere...I get it...surely she will put it on pathetic, on victimhood. Orphan of a father, a very sick mother, the little brother to send to school, the sister raped ... and so on and so forth.
"And your family in Matambu...there, near Nairobi...how are they?"
"Fine, thanks!"
"No problems? Mum, dad? Are they still there?"
"Yes, they are not old. They work. Mum teaches at the primary school in Matumbuku, Dad drives the trucks, he's hardly ever there. I have three brothers, an older brother who works in a clothing company in Nairobi, a sister who goes to high school in Machakos and is very good, and a little brother who is seven and studies at the school where my mother teaches".
What a pretty picture...all good and all happy...let's see where the catch is, surely her choice of life must have put her in a bind here on the coast.
"And here in Malindi, where do you live?"
"For now I'm staying with a friend."
Bingo! That's what the panther was getting at. Of course, she took it wide, to seduce me properly. Surely she will need the money to find her own house, furnish it...rents in Malindi are so expensive...she will need a hand, that's why she is here at the table with me. I seem like a nice person to her...and she is forced occasionally, out of need, out of desperation...indeed no, she would never do that...it is not just out of gratitude that she would give herself, but because she really likes me.
If she thinks she's playing me for a sucker, she's sorely mistaken, sooner or later I'll bring her down.
"And you don't have a home of your own. Jane?"
"A home? I don't really need one right now..."
"What about your own things, your own clothes wardrobe, if you want to host family and friends...?"
"You ask so many questions. You're a policeman in Italy."
"No... actually... I sell insurance policies..."
"Sorry?"
"Nothing... insurance... whatever, forget it."
Something doesn't add up...this one is really tough, she wants to keep me on my toes, to let me know she has secrets, to surround herself with an aura of mystery...but sooner or later she'll drop the ace in the hole. I know, because they're all like that. For them the white man is just a big fish to be hooked. Everybody got their own bait.
"So you have a normal, quiet life... are you happy?"
"Happy?"
Laughs the actress. She delights in her physiognomy, thinks she can charm anyone. 
Little does she know that I know, or at least imagine everything.
"Of course! Malindi is a good place to live, you live there too, don't you? You know...I like to dance, to be with friends, to have a beer now and then."
Dancing... hanging out with friends... beer... is there or is there not? And how can she claim to want money if I take her to bed? What other weapon do you think you can use, if not compassion? With the situation in Africa, its miseries at hand, what does she do, does she not take advantage? This is a pathological case...I absolutely have to understand. 
I decide to precipitate things.
"Would you like to come to my flat?"
"Why not?"
She had no hesitation.
What if she's a professional robber?
A terrorist in the pay of some powerful Islamist?
What if she was paid by Italian cooperation to take the names of all the depraved Italians living in Malindi? 
The important thing is not to give in before we are convinced that we know the whole truth. I have to get inside his head, understand the psychology, what tactics he is using and why. The book says that these girls are chameleon-like, they adapt to your way of doing things and immediately discover your weak points, only to make you end up like the male praying mantis.
We take a tuk-tuk and in five minutes we are at my place.
One hundred shillings. My treat.
We enter the house, we're in the room.
She smiles, goes into the bathroom. She comes out naked. A perfect body, firm breasts, standing on their own as if they had been done in Dalmine. She advances sinuously with a ravenous look.
"But...what are you wearing on your head?"
"I took a shower...isn't that good?"
"Well...Jane...I thought we should talk...first."
"We can talk like this too, don't you think? Do you want me to undress you?"
"I... I..."
"I get it, you're afraid of spending too much. So, if you want to do everything, it's 3000 shillings. Otherwise, I'll give you a discount."
"But you...you...you are..."
"I'm a prostitute, Italian. A prostitute for hire. You've never seen a whore? Aren't there any where you come from? If you wanted a nun, the diocese is only a few hundred metres from here, if you want to be a romantic story and then ask me to be your wife, you've got the wrong guy, dude. I'm only doing this for money. What do I do, get dressed again?"
"No....no...for pity's sake...I got it up even without viagra..."
I am in the presence of a very intelligent, and undoubtedly very beautiful, creature.
I have not yet been able to understand what her diabolical design is for me. She has probably also realised that I am not easily fooled.
She has even gone so far as to play the part of a whore...this one aims high...But I will unmask her, I swear I will unmask her!