I knew deep down within me that Lagos would be this way but
I never expected it to be this tough. From the day I left my village it had
been from one hassle to the next. Luck was my greatest undoing and I was doomed
to its channel of predestined problems.
This morning even as I woke from my sleeping position on the
floor beside Janet’s bed, I knew that trouble loomed like a cloud over my head.
I had just stepped outside of the small room with my tooth brush and paste when
the compound trouble maker Shade, walked up to meet me with her hands on her
hips.
“Senorita! Na you and me for this compound today…I no go
gree lai lai.”
My mouth hung agape, the neighbours gathered as they usually
did when fights were about to erupt like a ready volcano. I stared at Shade’s
face in shock. ‘What’s her problem this time?’ I asked myself. I could hear
some children weaving my name into a small song.
“…Senorita don jam jam for Shade dormot!” They sang over and
again.
My native name has always been very controversial, it has
forever been a mouthful to pronounce even for my village folk, so when I made
up my mind to come to Lagos after my secondary school education which took
others six years to complete but twelve years in my case because of my
inability to understand the intricacies of learning, I decided to change my
name to something less tongue twisting and Lagos-like. It took me one full day
to research and find the perfect name and somewhere in my English text book, I
saw the name like a diamond in the midst of coal, starring at me. Senorita!
Village life was dull and boring, growing up in a shabby home
with only one parent, (my mother), I never enjoyed the full necessities of
life. We never had money, and being the only female child of all her six sons,
I stayed back while my brothers hussled for money to feed the family. They
didn’t make much of it as more of their money was spent on local girls and palm
wine than my mother and I; even then, as I grew older, I hardly ever got broke
because I had enough attention from men. Yes, my mother is very pretty but as
for me, I am beautiful. The men in my village only had to slap my buttocks and
money flowed, after which the very privileged few had their chances with me,
but in all, there was no comparison between a village boy and a city boy.
Shade’s heavy breathings snapped me out of my reverie and I
kept looking at her without speaking.
“You tink say u fine pass all we gials wey full compound abi?”
Said Shade as spittle flew out of her mouth.
I kept silent, my cup of water suspended in my right hand
and my tooth brush in my left.
“Shade, wetin she do you na?” Asked a neighbour, Sekia.
“Shebi you know Oga Larry, my man wey get plenty bear bear?
This useless monkey, Senorita, don dey pull pant for am!” Said Shade, already
impatient and ready to get down to the nitty gritty aspect of beating me blue,
black and purple.
“Senorita, talk true, you do am?” Sekia asked me.
“Nooo…I never see the man before.” I replied quietly.
This was obviously too much for Shade, she pounced on me and
beat me until I saw actual stars. The Neigbours screamed, some cheered on while
others tried separating us. In all my years of fighting at the stream and village
bush paths, I was no equal for her stamina; she beat me till I felt pain no
more. Suddenly, I felt a strong grip as I was pulled from the ground and taken
away. Minutes later, I lay on Janet’s bed groaning, I could hear Janet’s voice
as she gave firm instructions to the Good Samaritan who had placed me on the
bed.
“Oga Samuel abeg carry am come down, I never try? Na me dey
pay house rent, Nepa wahala, even food wey we chop sef…this bed na my own, put
Senorita for ground.”
As they laid me on the floor and some neighbours brought
Alabukun, Rub and Agbo, I felt nothing but shame. How could I have left my
comfortable village for this place? My friend who took me in as a squatter made
it clear to me each day that she was doing me a favour. At that moment, all I
wanted to do was rush home.
That same night, I heard the familiar whistle and even with
the pains racking through my body as though I was on fire, I peeked at Janet
and made sure she was asleep before tiptoeing out of the small one room ‘face
me I slap you house’ we shared. I had hardly locked the door behind me when I
felt the familiar rough hands grab me and hold me close.
“Body dey pepper me.” I whispered in the darkness.
“Abeg no vex…make we do am today for back of bafroom.”
“But Shade…wetin she go talk, you don see wetin she do for
my body?”
“I hear! I don even beat am tire. Sorry my yellow.”
I nodded and smiled, quietly we tiptoed down the corridor,
past the sleeping and snoring neighbours rooms and finally ended our journey at
the back of the public bathroom where we both hurriedly shed our clothes and
got down to business.
As for Shade, I heard her cries from her room not far from
where we lay entangled and even while my body moved in fast rhythm, my mind was
far away as I whispered.
“Lagos! Forward ever, backward never!”
Image source:www.pacificghosts.com
Superb! i love this
ReplyDeleteI am humbled
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