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The girls of the '90s had the best sponsors, who spent generously to make them happy. These men, often randy old folks, had plenty to offer the girls, in line with the era's demands.

This was a time when retirees had money to throw around. It was an era when men owned acres of land with coffee and tea bushes that brought in hefty bonuses.

Local musicians sang often about the girls who spent these wazees' money with reckless abandon.

However, the girls of that time were not as gluttonous as today's girls, who can drain a bank account in a flash.

This was the pre-digital era, and men carried a bank passbook—a small booklet containing bank details, similar to today’s ATM card.

The girls enjoyed unrestricted access to the passbook and would discreetly withdraw money from the mzee’s account.

But unlike modern slay queens, the '90s girls were considerate when it came to spending a man's money. They made sure there was something left for tomorrow and had fewer demands, unlike today’s girls who ask for everything from data bundles to clothes, to dinner and supper, not to mention constant demands for a house and a perpetually empty gas cylinder.

They don’t want to work, yet they want the latest wig, the latest watch, cutting-edge mobile phones, and Uber rides. They expect a fully furnished house and club endlessly on a man’s bill, then ask for breakfast and fare the next morning.

Their demands stretch longer than the Nakuru-Nairobi highway, and they will drop you like a hot potato once your finances nosedive.

The '90s damsels had few demands—a hair makeover, a little cash, and an ordinary dress were enough for them to pledge their love.

There were no flashy clubs or fancy restaurants for weekend getaways. There were no Mugithi nights or nyama choma joints dotting every stretch of the highways.

The only places to while away time were rickety and dingy village pubs, which were cheap and very affordable.

When asked why they spent time with young girls, the sponsors would say, “Even an old cat drinks milk.” Others would add, “The liver is the softest meat for a cat.” Essentially, the wazees meant they, too, needed a bit of comfort.

The beauty of '90s illicit love was that the wazees did not go far to find a girl; she was often known even by his family members, and they rarely strayed far to spend the mzee’s money.

The illicit couples enjoyed music from noisy radio cassette players in the pubs while sharing beer.

The luckiest of the girls had a rented house in these village shopping centers, where the man could rest as he pleased whenever he visited the center for a beer or two.

The houses were very cheap, with no electricity, internet, or airtime bills to worry about.