Random Thinking In Black and White (1)

So what if....

......I'm a prostitute. Not because of hardship or anything of that sort. I just want to pursue a career in prostitution. Passion. Of course, just like most careers, I'll start from ET and then progress to CEO. So in my wild thinking, I started out my career in Ojuelegba. It was all about the hustle. O boy! It wasn't easy. In this line of career, there was no interview where the potential employer picks you based on how intelligent you are. In the prostitution career, it's all about looks, boobs, ass and attire. Well, in the look department, I'm not bad (or so I think). In the boobs and ass department, ermmm, that's nothing padded bras and tights can't handle. Well, in all, boobs, ass and attire requires money which I didn't have. There was no begging for money to start up prostitution cos it was a weird and unaccepted one. So in my normal clothes, normal being like every Sunday wear, I stepped out and stood at a strategic point with my other colleagues.

Others were fully decked in bum shorts, torn trousers, crop tops, long hair, make up that made them look like prostitutes...Oh! That's what we were. There was a queue, somewhat, and I stood at the end of the line since I was the last to come. I guessed that its on 'first come, first serve' basis but I was soon corrected. A car slowed down beside us and all except me rushed towards it. Ah! This is madness. That we are prostitutes does it mean we cannot do things in order?  Not only did they rush, each was screaming something...

"I am hot in bed....."

"I can give you anything you want...."

"I will make you come....." (Come? Is he not here already?)

"Call me spicy, I am juicy...."

My people, it was not easy (aswear).

I've always hated fighting for things but mehnnn, I have bills to pay. When the next car came along, I rushed to it, almost pushing two girls down in the process. Not knowing what to say, I borrowed from my colleagues...."Call me spicy, I am juicy and mucy...." Of course, this did not make any form of sense to me but it had to rhyme. I also said it like I was preaching the good news. The car sped off and nearly crushed my toes. Hmmmm. I walked back to the waiting spot amidst stares from the rest of the girls.

"Madam, you sef follow us dey here?", one of them asked

"Na wa o. Abeg shift go another corner o. You dey spoil market for person", another chipped in.

Hian! What is that even supposed to mean? Ain't we all here to hustle?

"I been think say she come preach o....." and the comments continued. I ignored them and continued my hustle. I am here to catch clients. Mtchew.

12 am...1 am...nobody had picked me. Whew. I felt my bones will crack with cold and at that time, some of my colleagues had all been picked more than once and were more than willing to go another round. Kilode? Will you guys allow me to go once? But yet, they went again. Hmmm. Life isn't fair, I thought. By 2am, we were two left. I moved close to the girl standing with me and started out a conversation from which I got that she has made four thousand naira for the night. Ah ah. She had gone thrice and she made what? She needs to upgrade her bargaining skills or her worth or whatever. Na wa o. I was still amazed by it all when the loudest noise came from a distance. It wasn't a dangerous noise like a gunshot but it got us on our feet. We listened and waited as the noise got closer. I was about to conclude that it was a bulldozer when the oldest Peugeot 404 stopped beside us and the owner beckoned on us to come. The car seemed like the owner had gone deer hunting with it. I quickly jumped into the car before the other girl could not because I really needed the job but because I was sure that the heat coming out from the engine of the car would warm me up.

"Hi, I'm spicy and juicy...." I started like I've done all night rolling my eyes as the words rolled off my tongue. The man seemed impatient and didn't care about how juicy or spicy I was.

"Wetin?! I wan fuck", he barked at me.

Wow! This man will kill me, I thought, judging by his car and his harshness. Na so I change my story.

"Brother, I want to tell you about Jesus", I replied. Thank goodness the supposedly ashawo clothe I wore was too sisterlike. My reply took him aback.

"For the middle of night na em you wan preach?", he replied surprised by the change of events.

"There's no limit to the time one can talk about our Lord and personal Saviour", I replied

"Abeg commot for my motor! God pass devil!", he barked again.

"Alleluia brother. Thank God you know about God's supremacy. That's a good place to start telling you about God....", I continued in my stupidity. He pushed me out of the car and 'sped off'. Actually, speeding off was his intention judging by the noise his acceleration made but the car was too old to move fast. It would have been better if he ran away cos that would be faster than the car that moved at half a kilometer per day. That ended my job for the day. Since my house was far away in Ipaja, I walked to a BRT bus stop and waited for morning to come.

Maybe I wasn’t cut out to start small. It was graduation day and I headed to one of the biggest clubs in Lagos. I had upped my game a little by wearing more appropriate attire…pretty white shirt tucked into a royal blue bodycon mini skirt. I borrowed a high heeled pair of sandals close to my size and tightened it's straps around my feet to keep it from falling off. I could barely walk on them but I've got a role to play only to get bounced at the entrance. Ermnmmm....what? I screamed in my heard as i quelled the urge to create a scene.

"Nobody goes in without a pair of shoes", the bouncer calmly said. 

Shoe! If only he knew where I came from and how much the heels hurt... I pleaded with him but he adamantly refused. I stood by the door and wished a fairy god father would intervene and when that didn't happen, I found my way to the parking lot and sat on a car bonnet so my feet could rest. I was almost giving up on getting a client when a very huge hairy man picked me up for the night. Hmmm! I tried to strike up a conversation but he didn't say much. 

We got to his place (though I thought we were going to a hotel) and without wasting time, he ordered me to undress. He did so too and lay down on the sofa. Won't he shower first? 

"No I won't " he replied 

"You heard me?" I asked in surprise. Thought it was all in my head.

"Didn't you talk?" I didn't bother answering. 

As I undressed, I looked around the room and saw pictures of him, his wife and children.

"Is your wife late?"

"God forbid!" he replied 

"Are we not going to the room?" I asked

"No we are not. I respect my matrimonial room. What's with all the questions anyway? Can we just fuck and be happy?"

He spread his hairy huge self on the sofa and waited rather impatiently for me. This man for just bath na! Haba!

"What would you like me to do?" I asked 

"Are you a learner?" he asked, wide eyed.

I started to kiss him but he removed his mouth. 

"Madam, no be romance we come do here" he pulled me by my breast towards his groin and ordered me to suck his dick. 

Ha! Say I be ashawo no mean say you go molest me o! You go pay for BJ?" me sef charge. In the midst of the argument, his wife walked in with a lighted birthday cake. 

"Dapo! Hey! Dapo! You have killed me! You are cheating on me!!..." As she screamed, she pranced around the room. The speed with which I dressed up eh....bad market! She threw the cake on the floor and headed for the kitchen. Before she could make up her mind about what to kill me with, I ran out with my 'killy heely' sandals in my hands grabbing everything I could along the way (including his wallet) since there was no hope for payment. I hailed a taxi and when I was sure I was out of harm's way, I opened the wallet only to find a 20 CFA note. What? Is this even up to 5naira? Hmmmmmm!

They say once beaten, twice shy. I have been beaten twice and I'm double twice shy. I set out after a week to try one more time. I never give up. I headed to a hotel in Apapa where I've been informed by the right source that white men give good sex and money. I didn't bother wearing heels. That's bullshit and I wasn’t cut out for it. I was as sexy as could be - modest but naked. Lol! I stood by the gate of Mavins Hotel and acted like I was taking a call while I scoped cars that drove in and out. My luck shone when a car pulled over. The owner introduced himself as Cholas. I would have given him a name that rhymed with his but his unusual name took me unawares and the only name that came to my mind was Nkoli. I gave him my real name - Chinwe. Somehow his smile made me wish I wasn't a prostitute. He's hawt! I silently hoped that I wasn't a prostitute but on the bright side, I like this one and would enjoy working with him. We agreed the price which wasn't bad. I turned down his proposal to pay me in dollars (with all the fluctuations in exchange rate. Besides, say the man fresh no mean say e no fit give me fake notes).

Once in his room, I headed towards the bathroom to freshen up so I could get to work (no time to waste as my plan was to do two or more people before dawn)but he pulled me back and said there was no need for a bath.

'This is best enjoyed with the dirt and sweat', he said

I've never heard about this before but you know what they say about he who pays the piper.  (though I would have loved for him to clean up. Cleanliness is next to Godliness....).

He quietly placed me on a chair and asked that I stretched my feet. Then he knelt in front of me and started licking my toe. He licked it with so much passion and I watched as his hard on grew and grew. He pulled his boxers off without removing my toes from his mouth. One would think my foot was some kind of meal served only to kings. I watched in curiosity wondering where this was heading to. He murmured, groaned...wow! And here I was thinking that I've seen it all. He licked my feet clean and with a big scream, he came all over the floor. He rubbed my feet in it and licked it off (why didn't he just lick it off the floor) He found his way to the bed and lay there all spent. 

"Wow! Wow! That was some good fuck!", he said with a grin. I wanted to scream at him for calling that good but I was grateful all I had to do to make money for the night was to let a cute foolish guy lick my leg clean. That beats allowing him grunt on me. But na wa o! People are sha weird. I asked him where he's from and he said Benin. Ha! Benin ke? Ha! Hope this was not for some kind of requirement from a native doctor. Praying did not seem proper in the prostitution line of business but who else was I to run to in times of need? I kept staring at my toes and prayed earnestly that they don't disappear or turn into something hideous.

The fight continued weeks later after I had done a lot of praying, fasting and staring at my toes. I went back to the same hotel, this time looking as hawt as ever. I even fixed some contrasting colors of brazillian hair to drive home the point that I am into this shit now. I wore heels, my heels (not borrowed or oversize), I took a cab driven by a fine young man and not one of those rickety taxis...I will hit it big soon. There was an event in the hotel which I interpreted as more business. I got down from the cab feeling all cool, adjusted my lil black dress and was about to step in style when someone said

"Madam, where you think say you dey go?"

I looked back and saw a security man. He can't possibly be talking to me, I thought as I walked towards the entrance of the building. He repeated himself this time walking beside me. Hian!  

"You talking to me?", I asked in the most American accent I could dig out from the deep Nsukka one.

"Na me you dey speak grammar for?" He laughed mockingly. With a stern look on his face, he barred my way. 

"Oga, na wetin na? This place na your papa village?" I charged 

"Ashawo, go stand for gate. Na there your mate stand" he shouted pushing me towards the gate. I pushed back at him. He held the hem of my dress and pulled. I stood firm and the dress nearly tore. He lost all patience and then held the dress by the waist hooking his hand through my panties for a stronger grip. I yielded and followed him. People looked at me with pity. I began to understand what that man in the bible felt when he was dragged around and stoned to death. Can't remember his name but was in the bible.

I stood by the gate as instructed, head bowed as my colleagues laughed but I was lucky. The footlicker came along and hired me again. Alleluia! He said we weren't going to his room but his house. On the way, it occured to me that this might not be luck or coincidence. What if he was taking me to a place to complete his ritual? Panic set in. Can i jump out of a speeding car? He kept talking but I couldn't hear him. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yes...No...STOP! I want to pee", I stammered

"Not to worry, we are almost home."

I sat there tense, praying to my Creator to save me.  We finally got to his home which wasn't just a random house on any street. It was a well planned house with so many fallow acres of land surrounding it. The nearest house to it was like Ogun is to Lagos. Assuming it was a normal situation with a man who wasn't a potential ritualist, I would have said the house is lovely. I got down from the car and followed him in. What met me was creepier than foot licking. I saw a batallion of naked men and women smoking, drinking and dancing to loud music. They touched each other....not just touch...they...they...OMG! Disgusting! The music stopped and the foot licker screamed SHE'S HERE. They screamed YAYYYYYY and ran around me and that told me that SHE meant me. The guys rubbed their naked groins on my laps while the girls slapped my bum. Ha! I smiled and managed to pull the foot licker aside. He smiled at me unbuttoning his shirt and then whispered "Relax! We will be gentle. Besides, we pay good money" I asked for the restroom so I could freshen up and he gave me directions. Once I was away from their prying eyes, I looked for the nearest escape route. God forbid bad thing. It was a long walk but it beats having a batallion of men in and on me. I came to make money that I'll spend not die in the process. Even the women wanted me to do them. Tufiakwa!

I stayed clear of the hotel and continued my career. My next customer was something else. He took me to a hotel room and talked about his wife and women generally. He was so soft spoken at first. I listened and wondered if this man thought I was a therapist.

"Oga, you know say...."

"You women never listen! Why are you interrupting me?", he screamed. His soft spoken voice was replaced by a monsterous one and I was so sure he wanted to kill me. I jumped up from where I sat and ran for the door....OMG! It was a window and I was on the tenth floor. I turned to change my direction only to run into him. He grabbed me and pushed me into the chair where I once sat. He then pulled his belt and flogged me with it nearly blinding my albinistic eye with the buckle. Chineke abiama!

"Stupid woman! Is that why you won't give me a son?" he screamed continuously as he slapped me around.

"Oga, na wetin na?" I screamed back at him pushing him off me with all the strength in my body only to find myself in my office, my monitor scattered on the floor and everyone staring at me. 

While I thanked God that I it was all in my head, I paid for the broken system and my boss sent me on a two month training on how to handle stress.