Chapter 2
“Faith, faith… faaaittthh… ! ” came the call. I was far away in dreamland and about to board the aeroplane that would take me to hellfire. 48 hours without food or water!. My roommate Queen has just gotten back from her weekend outing.
I manage to open my eyes and mutter a faint “what is it” to assure her that she hadn’t come home to a corpse.
She eyed the pile of me strewn carelessly in a corner and handed me a white Mr Biggs nylon. Queen is a lifesaver. She’s one of those babes that knows everyone, everything and everywhere. She was my lifeline out of the other hell I used to live in and into this life.
Queen threw her bag carelessly on the bed and prepared to remove her dress, a red tight fitting dress with gold italic letters that spelled ‘fab’ written across her large chest. “You dey dull yourself babe, I’ve told you… her voice faded off with the warning.
“I know these line well well, in fact, e dey my head, sitting in this room to depend on poor parents sitting down probably hungry cannot help me. I am a pretty slim girl and I can run the world if I choose to”. Queen was in charge of arranging girls for the men in a night club at ikeja.
It wasn’t anything big and fancy, but it put food on the table for a lot of youngins. Skimpy dresses, lots of make up, a fancy cigarette and some slow moves. You can go home with a nice guy and guarantee as much as 5000 naira that night. If you were super fun, he can become a steady customer. 5000 times as many times you can think of is a lot of money.
That evening, fully energised from the fried rice and peppered chicken. I borrowed one of Queens night time dresses. They were about two sizes big, but my desperation was heavy enough to fill up the empty curve spaces.
Should I go on to tell you about my first night?
I really wish it was a Pretty Woman story, but this was much better. I was picked up by an oyinbo guy, white man with ‘smelly dollars’. All the doubts I had cleared up as he handed me a shiny straight 100 dollar bill and dropped me off at the taxi park. I was fully in.
The minute his driver reversed the heavy ford Jeep out of the taxi garage, I left the taxi men I was pretending to haggle prices with and boarded a bus to my dorm.
I got to my dormitory, and entered my room with the elegance of the English queen. “Who say money no dey cure problem ?”
After discussing the nights affairs. I realised i should have collected my sponsors number. But, I shrugged it off as there was always a next time.
In no time, I was living, learning and earning. Making money and sending some home to the family.
Working nights didn’t always go so well, some where bad day, or fuck boys who suddenly developed issues with their ATM card the next morning. Along with the glamour was horror. But I lived through it each day.
After staying in the dormitory for a few more months, I was sent out due to a minor quarrel with one of the hall security.
I needed a place to stay urgently, I couldn’t go home or go and live with any runsco as that would lead to free work or someone policing my precious time. It was during this period that I met Vero.
Vero was one of the regulars at the club then. Way older than me but she was nice.
Ashewos aren’t supposed to be friends. We fought for the same piece of meat on these streets. Vero told me about Iya Pato where I could stay for a little fee and make money round the clock. Monday till Friday evening and Friday at midnight in the club. The prospect of more money was more than exciting.
Not that I wasnt living a good life, I was, and hunger was far from me. Not only could I afford 3 meals a day. I could send money home too but I needed a place to stay. It takes a lot of disrespect and zero values to operate as a prostitute from your parents house. How would you explain leaving the house at odd hours?
I made up my mind and called Vero the next day, she picked me up in her red small Volkswagen and we drove to the place. It’s was a shanty shack at the far stretch of a deserted road somewhere in Lagos island. The best part about Iya Patos was that it wasn’t crowded with lots of girls, and it was directly opposite the construction of a new mega property. There was less competition and a steady stream of runsco. This was the life.
At iya Pato’s I usually would wake up during the weekdays by 10, bathe, wear make up and use my small bottle of special perfume. The perfume was for good luck and attraction. All the other babes; Kpeme, Vero and Lilian all had theirs. A special blend of ancient scents and a ritual that is meant to protect the uniqueness of my star against the other girls. On the streets, we do not call it juju, it is a necessary evil for the hustle. After bathing and dressing, there is almost nothing to do.
My clothing were mostly small skimpy pieces and an occasional Jean. After washing, I would sit all day in my phone chatting on dating apps, pursuing John leads. Other times, one or two casual who couldn’t wait till evening time would stroll in for a little beat. Quick, hot and sharp just like 1000 naira in the hands of a greedy man.
Night time was the main, the bar was full, plenty ogogoro in the system, the men are needy and we the girls were always ready.
Money for hand, back for ground.
So finally chapter 2 of icy end is here. I hope you enjoy reading, don’t forget to drop your 2cents, like and follow my blog
To catch the full gist, please read Chapter 1
Until next time
Love, Chukulee
Chukulee 