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My first time in a five-star hotel and feeling it wasn’t worth the money

Five Star Hotel

I have also since learnt to go into the trouble of finding out the general price range of an entertainment joint before actually going.

Photo credit: Shutterstock

…. that version of tea cost each one of us 300 shillings, but I was so unimpressed, I vowed never to ever visit a hotel I couldn’t afford

Karen Country Club. The 85-year-old club was trending this week after announcing that it was opening its doors to non-members. This crushing economy, it seems, has left few unscathed. As you can imagine, Kenyans had a field day on Twitter, posting hilarious images and clips of the chaos that awaited the posh facility’s members once ‘ordinary’ Kenyans started streaming in, so to speak. If you missed it, it was the kind of rib-cracking humour that is enough to instantly dispel stress.

As I scrolled through the memes, I was reminded of a relative, may she rest in peace, who would make a point of visiting high-class restaurants and hotels she couldn’t afford, to, she explained, get to experience how the other half lives. On the appointed day, she would dress in her Sunday best clothes, confidently walk into a restaurant or hotel and order a cup of tea, sure that there was no way a single cup could cost more than 500 shillings. She would then spend an hour or so taking in the sights and the people before paying and leaving.

“Should I go somewhere and find people talking about those places, at least I can contribute to the conversation, plus I’m inspired to work harder,” she would argue.

Many years ago, she managed to convince a cousin and I to accompany her to this chic hotel which neither of us could afford. We were about a year into our first jobs and were therefore not earning much, so the fact that there was a cup of tea that cost more than 50 shillings was preposterous. We went anyway.

That was my first time visiting a five-star hotel, and the feeling of being cheated out of the money I would fork out for a mere cup of tea somewhat subsided when it came with a small pot and an even smaller jar of milk, which ended up making me three small cups of thin tea before we finally left.

I will not say that the one hour or so in the affluent place inspired me to work any harder than I already was, but by the time I was leaving, I knew without a doubt in my mind that there is no better way of making tea than the old fashioned way which involves boiling together, (in high heat), water, milk and a generous amount of tea leaves. And then taking it piping hot. That version of tea cost each one of us 300 shillings, but I was so unimpressed, I vowed never to ever visit a hotel I couldn’t afford.

I have also since learnt to go into the trouble of finding out the general price range of an entertainment joint before actually going after a friend and I once walked into a restaurant cum bar only to realise, once we had been handed the menu, that we couldn’t afford their food at that time of the month. If you’ve ever been in such a situation, then you know how embarrassing it can be. In the process of living our authentic lives, which in simpler terms means getting up and leaving the restaurant in search of an affordable one, my cheeks were aflame with abashment.

Ideally, such an experience shouldn’t embarrass, after all, the people seated there eating that expensive food you couldn’t afford were not going to buy it for you, but there goes human nature.

The writer is editor, Society & Magazines, Daily Nation. Email: cnjunge@ ke.nationmedia.com