My name is Aliya Brown, and I’ve always known how to turn heads. A proud brown beauty working in Nyali, I made a living providing sensual massages and offering my companionship to men who craved something warm and real, even if only for a night.

It was through my work that I met him — Patrick. A wealthy, older man with a taste for adventure and a soft spot for younger women like me. Patrick wasn’t just any client; he was generous, charming, and loved to spoil me with gifts and cash. Before long, I’d stopped seeing my other clients, hoping he would become my permanent sponsor — my “mbaba” — and get me out of the streets for good.

For a while, it felt like a fairytale. Patrick paid my rent in a nicer apartment, took me to beach resorts, and made me feel secure in ways I’d only dreamed of. I was sure I’d finally escaped the hustle of massage tables and hourly rates.

But dreams, I’ve learned, can break faster than they form.

My best friend Sharon had been there from the start — she’d even helped me pick outfits for Patrick’s dates. I thought I could trust her with anything. I was wrong. Slowly, Sharon started showing up whenever Patrick was around, smiling too brightly, laughing a bit too loudly at his jokes. One evening, I caught them leaving a restaurant together — and it wasn’t just a friendly dinner. The look on Patrick’s face told me everything.

My world crashed. Patrick cut me off, moving on to Sharon without so much as an explanation. The expensive apartment? Gone. The fancy meals? Gone. I was back in my old bedsitter with no one to help me pay bills.

After crying my heart out for days, I knew I had to survive. I returned to what I knew best: giving massages and providing company for the men who came through Nyali. I tried to hold my head high, but deep down, the betrayal stung every time I heard Sharon’s name.

The hustle was harder after losing Patrick, but it was familiar, almost comforting in its predictability. I promised myself I’d never again let a man — or a friend — put me in that vulnerable position. The streets had raised me, and in the end, they’d taken me back.

I still dream of a day I’ll break free from this cycle, but for now, I stay on my grind, making my own way one client at a time.