Writer Jackson Biko blasts stalker who seemingly wants him badly

That writer Jackson Biko has a legion of drooling female fans is an open secret. Most of the religious readers of his blog and his column are women.

And many have been looking for him. They want more than just reading him. Probably it is because he has maintained anonymity over his identity, as only a few people can recognise him in a crowd.

But there is one who must have used a wrong approach, prompting Biko to blast her in his Saturday magazine column of October 6.

He writes that the woman called under the guise of seeking his help in editing her memoir. And she preferred meeting him in person to discuss it, rather than send it on email as Biko had asked.

Then it soon became a matter of her calling numerous times, up to a point where Biko blocked her number. But the indefatigable lady, who Biko called Joyce, has been buying different lines from which she has been calling him. Mark you, she never disclosed how she got his number.

Here is an excerpt from Biko’s piece:

The next day she messaged me asking how my day was. This time I saved her number and ignored the message. Then she wrote a long spiel about how her day was. I ignored. Then she wrote some more about her life. I ignored. The next night she said goodnight. I ignored. The next morning, I woke up to her message: how did you sleep? I started thinking that perhaps she thought we were lovers. She sent sporadic messages the whole day. And the next and the next. I ignored. One evening, at 5pm, she called. I ignored. She wrote, “I just want to be your friend.” I blocked her. Over the last few weeks she has called from different numbers, all which I have blocked. She sent an email the other day saying that she is sorry for hounding me and that she will never do it again. I ignored. Three hours later she wrote another email asking me to recommend hotels in Diani. I flagged her email as SPAM.

(You can read the whole piece here.)

Well, Team Mafisi could be making moves but it seems Biko has his hands full.


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