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Memoirs Of A Repentant Escort #11

Sometimes, unnecessary stress makes someone add unnecessary weight. . . such was the dilemma I found myself in. Everything about me had changed. It was like I had lost the two most important persons to me. . . No sex in three weeks; so very unusual. I seemed to have already lost interest in life; couldn’t find savour in anything. . . I became unexplainably depressed since that encounter with Jide at the hospital. I have grown to love him but we just kept dripping apart. Amaka on the other hand is where she is and they are like all I ever have left.

I decided to take a break from my pity party situation. Haven’t stepped out in two days, all I had been doing was running hot bath; my favourite hobby in the world, feeding on anything calories, lying on the bed, listening to Dido’s β€œLife for rent” on repeat. . . Crazy things women do.

It was as if the PHCN had known I was gonna be like this for two days; the light was unbelievable stable but I was tired of being unnecessarily miserable when the life around me was going on. I haven’t even visited Amaka in two days and I was sure it was either she is terribly mad at me or crazily worried for me. Jide didn’t even buzz my phone at all in two days. How would I even know if he did; my phone had been switched off for the past two days. . . I was sure he never tried.

I was so mad at myself for falling for Jide which was so unlike me and really, I needed to stop beating myself over it. Shutting myself out of the world, not worrying about Amaka and becoming unexplainably depressed wasn’t a good way to go about it. I should learn to move on. I encouraged myself to rise up from the bed. . . brushed my teeth, splashed water on my beautiful face which never tasted water in two days, ran my hands through my soft hair, tied it into a bun, took two glasses of water, changed from my night wear which I was sure must be having a foul smell, put on a black tank top and a black silk stretchy leggings, with my headset on my head, I opened the door, shut the house and left for April Government College.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Running through the lawns of April Government College had become an habit whenever I needed to get in shape. I do a little running, walking and then jogging. Most times, I don’t do it just for the weight but also, it was my way of shedding off weighty thoughts. Let’s just say, the school lawn was my quiet room. It has a seat that can accommodate at least three people at a time. The seat also swings up and down; the kind of seat you find at an amusement park or lovers’ lawn.

April Government College was a 15km walk down from our house. The school is very beautiful; the track field was open to the street; people can see it from afar even while in the taxi. You appreciate the beauty of the school more from a far view. Eliza also attended that school. The students are brilliant and sometimes you find it so hard to believe that’s a school funded by the government. It’s a one of its kind.

I sat on the seat for like 30minutes. The seat gives comfort and succour. It’s so sweet and relaxing; the swinging makes it feel as if I was in a totally different world and nothing around me was falling apart. I slammed on my headset with Sia’s “Chandelier” playing and I was humming to it. I remembered the past; both the beautiful and the ugly but the ugly reminisce carried the 90% of my thoughts. Life hasn’t been fair but there were sweet moments. I remembered running through the streets of Mafoluku with my panties on amidst my peers. The memory brought smiles on my face. . . I remembered St. Anne Catholic Church; there I have once served as an altar assistant; they called it servers. I remembered selling β€˜dankwa’ which fed and pay for my fees through primaries one to five. . . When β€˜dankwa’ failed, I resorted to selling β€˜moi-moi’ and β€˜koko’ (a not-too-watery version of pap) to see myself through Secondary school. I resorted to prostitution when I didn’t make my WAEC and I had to do external exams like NECO and WAEC GCE. . . Ever since then, I never stopped.

Sex to me was like shielding oneself from taking the cucumber fruit all because some people don’t like it and then you don’t like it and all of a sudden, you tasted an iced cucumber; an experience you never want to stop having. It might not have a definite taste but it has its benefits. I was 20 when I wrote JAMB; I graduated at the age of 25, went to Law School. . . Approximately, I have been having consistent sex for 7 years now. . .

I was tired of reminiscing things I wasn’t proud of but hardly do I regret any of those things. . . I wish I had other choices but I didn’t. I wanted to be more than the situation around me could dictate but the question was β€˜did I really achieve the way I wanted?’

I ran through the track field of April G. C. over and over for six times consecutively with my headset replaying Common ft. John Legend’s β€œGlory” with so much heaviness and heaves of sadness all over me. . . the song kinda gives me hope.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Two hours was all I needed to make the house look so pleasant to the eyes. Somewhere within me, I felt lively, everything seemed to be back to normal and the aura of hope flushed through my petite face. . . I had a cool bath and it was so refreshing that I was like β€˜what the hell have I been doing to myself for two days?’

Not knowing what to wear, I slipped into a black jumpsuit. Black is my favourite colour. I slipped my legs into a flat black Noble Igwe-like sandal; with a rolex wristwatch and my stud earrings as ensembles. I sprayed a little perfume, carried my LV petite bag, combed my hair into an all back situation, use my favourite lipgloss, no powder and I dashed out of the house to go check Amaka at the Police Station. I was really hoping I won’t meet her there or something or even if I did I hoped Sola would have carried out my orders and made everything easy.

I flagged down a taxi and in less than 15minutes, we were there. The taxi man was extremely speedy that all I was doing throughout the ride was a silent prayer. He wasn’t smelling alcohol or looking depressive but he really doesn’t look alright with the manner with which he drove the car. I could only hope his issues are resolved before e go crash passengers for inside canal.

I stepped down and I could see that same Corporal I met the other day staring deeply at me with his eyes focusing on my boobs like a boobs-starved man and he just couldn’t wait to tear my clothes if possible and start over-flooding his face with it.

β€œHello. Good afternoon Officer.” I greeted him

β€œMadam, it’s still morning. . .” He said growling at me.

β€œOfficer, take it easy na. I haven’t come here to fight you o abi. . . Anyways, it’s past twelve already. You should check your wristwatch *that’s even if it’s working* I murmured to myself.”

β€œOkay, no vex. . . How you dey now? E don tey wey you come here o! Your friend don dey worry no be small.”

β€œEh ya. How is she? I thought you people would have released her na.”

β€œRelease kwa? Who we go release? Na here she go rot. That bad-mouth scatter rubbish type of girl.” He said with so much Igbotic accent.

β€œOfficer abeg na! That one too much. Which one be she go rot here? Abeg o!”

β€œWetin dey worry you too? You better behave o! You are talking to a Sergeant. I go just lock you up too.”

β€œLol! Officer abeg. No dey overhype yourself. Your wetin dem dey call am wey dey your fifty shoulder pad reads β€œCorporal”

β€œWetin dey my shoulder? Two red ‘V’ s. . . E no mean anything.

β€œExactly my point. You don’t have a rank yet so stop hyping yourself. . . Can I see my friend now?”

The D. P. O. stepped out. He was a cute handsome young man. I love a man in uniform but I’m so scared of ending up with one. Biko, I love myself, e too early to dey alone either by death or by transfer or by travelling about.

β€œCorporal!” He screamed!

β€œYes Sir!” he replied making their gestural greetings.

β€œRelease that young lady you held hostage. . . Amaka Coker or what’s her name; she’s available for bail.”

β€œOga! Bail?”

β€œYes! You heard me and make it as snappy as possible. She mustn’t spend another night here! Do I make myself clear?” he said with so much authority.

β€œYes, yes sir!” he said stuttering.

I couldn’t contain my laughter.

β€œWhy you dey laugh? You this girl, I go lock you up.”

β€œOga, bone! Wetin dey do you sef. . . You no see as you wan pee for body because of that young man wey come here cos you know say e fit sack you! Young hot boy o! DPO! No pride but ordinary corporal like you ehn! . . . Make I just shut up.”

β€œSergeant! Come and lock this woman up!”

β€œHahahahahahahahaha! Corporal you no go kill me o! Ordinary Corporal like you wan give Sergeant order. Abeg, speed up the bail before I scream now o and your DPO will just come out and your own don done be that!”

He left the counter and went in to return with Amaka! The stupid girl was just smiling but looking tired; all beaten up by mosquitoes.

β€œBabe! I’m so sorry I haven’t come to check on you in two days. . .”

β€œIt’s okay. I understand everything.”

β€œNo, not like that. . .”

β€œI said I understand. . . Jide was here to see me yesterday and he tried to hide so many things from me but I could see disappointment written all over his face but whatever that was, we are gonna talk about it when we get home.”

β€œI didn’t tell him you were here. . .” with so much surprise all over me.

β€œNo you didn’t, but e be like say your bobo don dey trail you o!”

β€œLike Jide has been following me?. . .”

β€œNot like that Sule!. . .”

β€œAbeg Amaka! Free me, I’m not even interested in him again. I’m over him.”

β€œAwwwwww! So obvious babe!. . .” She said with so much lampoon and sarcasm.

β€œAbeg, Corporal Corporal, where I go sign?” I said beckoning at the Corporal.

β€œYou don’t need to sign anywhere. Someone pulled for your friend’s bail. So you guys are free to go.” He said much calmer and β€˜lowkey’ than his previous lousiness.

β€œSomeone pulled for my bail?” Amaka asked with so much surprise.

β€œMaybe it was Sola cos I went to the hospital to threaten him a bit.” I cut in.

β€œNo o, no be that guy wey got you arrested o! Shey na Sola e dey bear. . . Dis one na one Chief Collins something” said the Corporal.

β€œChief Collins what?”

Amaka’s face had drastically changed from enthusiasm to bitterness and anger. I don’t know why someone would be angry all of a sudden for someone who helped her with bail. I have never heard of that name before and somehow somewhere I felt lost.

In less than five minutes, we were out of the premises of the police station. I flagged down a taxi but Amaka was flagging down an okada behind me.

β€œBabe, what’s going on? I flagged down this taxi for us to go home. You freshen up, rest and eat something.”

β€œI know. You go without me. I need to make a stop somewhere. It’s very important.”

β€œLet me go with you then abi! I don’t have an appointment. We can go to that place together and then from there, we go home.” I said

β€œBabe, trust me! This is no trouble. Don’t be worried for me. I just want to make a quick stop. That’s it. I would meet you at home in less than thirty minutes and don’t follow me!”

β€œAlright.”

I entered the cab, Amaka was already on the bike and she was going in front of us. I wanted to tell the cab man to follow her but I wanted her to have her privacy. Whatever that was going on; she would tell me when she’s ready.

I got home, unlocked the door and I liked what I saw. Everywhere was spick and span. There was light; I guess the PHCN won a lottery. I was extra lightened up. I turned on the home theatre and I was blasting MC Galaxy’s β€œSekem” with my dancing steps on the move. I made for the kitchen to prepare scrambled egg and coffee! Amaka loves it more than I love it. Then in the evening, we would go to the market together and cook a nice efo riro to be eaten with rice later in the day. . . Scrambled egg was ready and microwaved but I was chilling a little bit in making the coffee so it won’t get cold before Amaka gets back.

It was already passing thirty minutes and I was getting worried again. She asked me not to follow her; I don’t have an idea where she went to. Gosh! I don’t know why she keeps making me worried. . .

Then I heard a loud bang on my door.

β€œYes who’s there?” I screamed.

β€œIt’s me o; Eliza!”

I made for the door, unlocked it and greeted the rather looking extremely apprehensive girl.

β€œWhat’s wrong with you? Are you alright? Did someone die?”

So many questions in one stretch of sentence. She was looking too apprehensive for my liking and I couldn’t help but bombard her with the questions.

β€œAunty, something bad has happened o! terrible happenings all over.” She started weeping.

β€œEliza, wetin do you na? You are scaring me o!” I couldn’t contain it anymore. I hate suspense. Both good and bad and this one definitely smells bad.

β€œIt’s Aunty Amaka o!”

I grabbed her top. . . β€œWetin do Aunty Amaka?”

I was coming back from my friend’s place when I saw an okada jam a bus and Aunty Amaka was the one on the okada. She was bleeding and she looks unconscious to me.

β€œBleeding? Unconscious? Where? How?What’s going on?”

β€œIt was opposite our school. I think she was coming home.”

β€œFor goodness sake, what’s going on!” I broke down in tears sitting down on the rug. Everything became so unexplainable.

β€œWe should go quick quick na aunty! Stop crying”

I rose up, off the light, the home theatre, picked up my phone; didn’t even bother changing the bathroom slippers I was putting on. . . Gosh! Amaka just want to kill me. . . My phone beeped! β€œWho the hell is that sef?”

We need to talk!” . . . Jide

One good news! One bad news! What a life. . . I wasn’t ready to loose any of them but Jide would have to wait.

Ibukunwrites

Ebukun Gbemisola Ogunyemi popularly known as Ibukunwrites/EGO is a Writer ~ (Content | Non-Fiction | Fiction | Poetry | Screen). She's a Blogger, an Avid reader, Fun Cook, Baker, an Aspiring Media Personality, a Language Enthusiast, a Wordsmith, an ardent lover of Art & Documentary.

Ibukunwrites is highly passionate about women, children and abuse related causes and she tries to show these in her writings. She's a sucker for African literature, simplicity in writing and story telling; also a Shondaland addict, a die-hard fan of music and movies. . . not your everyday kinda girl!

Her Anthology "Creeping Voices" published late last year is available for download on okadabooks.com.

She tweets at @ibukunwrites on Twitter. Ebukun Gbemisola Ogunyemi on Facebook and also, @ibukunwrites on Instagram.

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14 Comments

  1. Scribbledheartbreak says:

    Eleyi gidi gaan…this wan is strong, why tis twist of lyf.. nothing better happen to Amaka ooo abeg..
    Nice read ☺️

    1. Ibukunwrites says:

      Lol. Thanks Darling! Let’s hope nothing happened to her. . .

  2. Sophia says:

    Nice one Ibukun..nothing shud happen to Amaka o.

    1. Ibukunwrites says:

      Thanks Sophia???

  3. iamhorllamii says:

    Oga Oko dis one na Oliver twist oo, pls Ibk don’t allow anytin happen 2 Amaka. Tanx 4 dis episode

    1. Ibukunwrites says:

      Thanks for reading Darling???

  4. Calliboom says:

    nice one and lengthy too. plz oh nothing should happen to Amaka oh Biko…. thanks

    1. Ibukunwrites says:

      Thanks Calli! . . . We’d see about that?

  5. Vikki says:

    Blood of Jesus! Amaka cannot go like that oh…Aunty Ibukun waiting for the next episode sha, the last time felt like forever…Tanx for been amazing

    1. Ibukunwrites says:

      Thanks Vikki! I’m sure this time is gonna be different!❀❀❀

  6. anitaeneh says:

    Ah….ah why nau, dis place u stoped sha..u r doing longthroat ooo. i enjoyed it bt it was shortlived. well done,

    1. Ibukunwrites says:

      ??? Thanks Anita!

  7. Ifeanyi Onochie says:

    I thought Amaka was the gentle one, but she’s turned out to be the real agbero. LOL!

  8. Seye says:

    I feel for the escort o, quite a lot to deal with at the same time. Please keep Amaka alive, she’s The Escort’s live wire.
    “We need to talk” is always something I dread. It could go either way. Waiting to see where Jide and The Escort are headed.

Comments are closed.