CSWs are not the dirtiest lot


The thing with commercial sex workers (CSWs) is that many people, men inclusive, would want to behave like this class of women is the dirtiest and most unwanted in the country and world at large.

But why are so many patrons found seeking their embraces?

“I will tell you why. Every customer knows that no matter how drunk they get they will still be able to determine which woman of the night they want to spend their money on,” says Joe, as we swallow our beloved stuff at one of our regular joints at Kamba, the famous red district of Blantyre.


“Hear, hear!” Members of the crew shout in unison as some CSWs [sorry, I mean, Leisure Assistants] come closer, not for the fact that they are key to the subject under debate; but obviously for the aftermath of the conversation – in case members of the crew get enticed to dish out notes from their pockets.

“Umakhwana Joe, ndiwe wekha, auze [Tell them Joe. You are special!” one of the night queens shouts on top of her voice.

And that makes Joe feel special as he goes on with his narration. Personally, I suspect he has an agenda to hook one of the Leisure Assistants on credit terms.


“And no matter how drunk one is, there will be certain ingredients of love that will be active in the selection process, so that there is no way any man would lie and say that he just sleeps with any CSW or that CSWs are all the same,” he goes on.

‘Atsogoleri’ Rob M interrupts him: “Are you talking out of experience? Tell us!”

But Joe avoids the question and goes on with his narration.

“Indeed, they (CSWs) are a group of women accustomed to doing dirty things but those dirty things are what keep customers coming back for more. It may be a different customer or the same sick minded dude but, whatever the case, the truth is there is more to CSWs than meets the social eye and, if indeed it was true that there was nothing special about CSWs, the trade would have died a long time ago,” he says, attracting laughter from the bulk of customers at the joint.

“Auze, auze Joe [tell them, tell them Joe], exclaims another of the ladies.

“Don’t worry darling, I will tell them sense. These dudes and multitudes, a lot of them are out there, are in the habit of tainting the image of you, our beautiful night queens, yet you have assisted them all along to remove the stress inflicted on them by their so-called wives,” adds Joe.

But Lackson does not agree and tells him that the reasoning is not only wrong but sinful. He stresses that any man who backs CSWs deserves condemnation of the greatest magnitude.

However, Joe stands his ground, adamant that the world of men and women has been very unfair to CSWs. He argues that CSWs are human beings first and must be treated as such without any iota of prejudice.

“So tell me, is it not love or some form of physical madness that enables a man to spill his hard earned cash on the lap of a lady of the night? I challenge you guys, who among you has never hooked the so-called CSWs since he was born?” he sums up his case, amidst ovation from patrons at the pub.

With that, Joe attracts the attention of some gentlemen who, during the entire conversation, sat quietly not far from where we are sitting.

“You are a wise man; this world needs people like you; people who can bravely put forward an intelligent argument like that. Bar man, give him a crate of whatever he is drinking… and he also deserves a big plate of beef snack!” says the older of the two gentlemen.

We, in the crew, and the ladies around partake in the beer and snacks ‘donated’ to our dear Joe.

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