I slept outside last night and even as the rains poured and droplets left the ceiling of the parched corridor of the house I once shared with Janet, I felt my life sway before my eyes. After I had led everyone to believing that I had a fat bank account, I was beaten and shunned by those who had become my friends. Janet, my only hope, had sent me out of her house and threw my bags outside, I had become, officially homeless.
Dawn came creeping slowly and quietly and even as I made to rise to my feet and once again attempt to knock at the door to Janet’s room, I felt the shudder of cold as a small paint bucket of urine was poured on me by Sisi Gbemi, the nosiest tenant of our compound.
“You no dey see?” I turn to ask.
“Na here be ya palour?” She retorts.
“Why you pour piss for my body na? Wich kain nonsense be dis one?”
“See dis ashewo, after de mouth wey you make yesterday ehn… you still fit talk.” She continued.
“Na wia dat one take comot sleep for ya eye.”
“Oloshi…oloriburuku…you tief money come dey pose…Oshofree!”
Onochie the landlord’s wayward son walked out of the room he shared with his family members and sauntered up to meet me.
“Baby moi…na who dey disturb you so?” He asked, touching his chin with his left hand as he spoke to me.
“Wetin carry you come here…ehn Onochie? I don tell you before say, make you no dey call me baby again. I no be ya grade.” I snap in anger.
“See dis gial wey I wan help sef…idiot!” Onochie spat.
I hiss loudly and continue knocking at Janet’s door.
“Why you wan helep am? Abegi…we no need her kind for dis house again….shebi Janet don troway ya property….dey goooo!!!” Sisi Gbemi hooted at me.
I ignore them bang hard on Janet’s door.
“Janet! Janet! Abeg…if you troway me from house, who go carry me na? Abeg no vex, I no know say de money wey I carry na fake….” I cry loudly.
I hear no sound from the room within as everywhere remain still and calm except for the mummurs of Onochie, Sisi Gbemi and a few other neighbours who had made a circle round me.
“Me sef think say…she don comot tey tey….dis gial no dey hear word.” Said one of the neighbours.
“Wetin she do sef? I hear say, she carry fake dollars….”
“Ehnnn dis one no be cold water ooo…my brother na corporal and if im catch dis kain pesin…na Kirikiri straight no back turn.”
“Abeg make wee helep am carry her bag troway am for road…see as her load dey block road for here.” Said Sisi Gbemi, picking up on of my small bags.
“Drop am kia kia…na wia dis one take be ya consign? I go wound pesin ooo.” I warn.
“Come wound me na…abi u never see Mike Tyson for Naija before?” Sis Gbemi warned.
“Janet! Jane! I take God beg you na….” I plead.
The door opens and Janet emerges, stretching and yawning, she stared at me spitefully and I could never forget the hatred I saw in her eyes. I asked myself quietly…’wetin I do?’
“You never comot?” She asks.
I fall on my kneels and cry hard.
“No! This na de only place wey I kno…Janet, abeg.”
“Ehenn…wen you dey jump from pilliar to post… you no know say e get time when fowl dey run from rain.”
“I take God beg you…you be my only hope… Ahhh! Senorita! See wetin you don carry load for head.”
“Vex wan kill me!” Janet said as she looked at the neighbours. ‘Imagine dis shit! This gial wey I carry come from village… I give am shelter, cloth, food….everything, I give to am. Just yesterday, im see dollars begin dey behave like goat… she no even say, oya my sister janet, take dis money join body. Instead she turn mee to househelp, I wan slap myself when I remember how I serve am yesterday. Oya begin pay me all de money wey I wey I don spend ontop ya body.”
“I take God beg you…janet! I promise say…if you let me enter house again… I go surprise you. I go work so tey…body go dey pepper me. I go make money for you… I no come lagos for play.”
The neighbours shook their heads and hissed audibly.
“Seno…dis na de end of the road for you. If na me dey for ya shoes now… I go kukuma carry my load reach motor park wey dey go village. Lagos no be for ya type.” Janet continued.
I fall on the floor in a helpless heap and beat myself with my hands.
“Senorita! Yeh! Lagos oooo!” I wail.
“Come carry her load comot…drag am comot for my papa compound!” Onochie shouts while he gestures to some boys standing around to drag me out of the compound.
They carry my struggling self out of the only place I call home in the city of Lagos and dump me outside the gate.
“Onochie! Ono…dis na wickedness…na because I no gree for you?” I wail.
“Your body no go even sweet as I want sef…abeg carry ya wahala run go village.” Onochie spits.
My bags were thrown on the road while I rolled on the dust in tears, passersby only looked on and shook their heads while my so-called neighbours and the only person I called sister whom I knew in Lagos, shut the compound gate against me.
Sighing audibly and crying loudly I shout….