Nneka rolled
over and reached across the snoring man to the bedside table to grab a
cigarette.
How had she let this man fall asleep here?
She normally
wouldn’t let a customer sleep over but she was too weak after the night’s work.
She herself had fallen asleep.
She lit the
first stick of marlboro. There was something about the feeling when she smoked
that vaguely consoled her. The burning in her chest felt like the cauterization
of all emotions she was supposed to feel. It was an essential tool in her line
of work and she dreaded alcohol anyway.
Here at Lady
K’s brothel or ‘warming house’ as she liked to call it, the girls were
classified by levels and graduated proportional to the number of customers
satisfied by their performance. As one climbed higher up the ladder, she got
the chance to limit the kind of customers that are thrown her way. However,
this privilege was limited to just one characteristic. For example, if you
don’t like men who smoke, only men that don’t would be sent your way. For
Nneka, she shied away from married men. Call it a sense of foreboding but she
had it nagging at the back of her head that the more married men she slept
with, the less her chances of ever getting married. She always dreamed of a
life beyond this. One deemed unachievable by most in this business. Some had
tried only to get to the introduction and be sat face to face with an old
customer which eventually evolved to the dissolution of the marriage premature
to its beginning. Most had resigned to this fate and when they had crossed Lady
K’s retirement age, they moved on to either see new places with the money they
had spent or run their own brothels.
She crushed
the remaining ash and embers on the tray sitting at the head of the bed and
rose from the bed, the dull ache between her legs a constant reminder of the
rigorous night. She walked over to the full-length mirror to admire herself au
naturel. She rubbed at her lower belly, at the scar left behind from when a
baby was literally ripped out of her womb. She had discovered she was pregnant
and sought to keep it against the Madam’s wishes and without her knowledge. She
had no idea who the father was but it gave her a surge of hope. For months, she
stayed away from work nursing the beacon of hope in her womb and hoping her
absence would be forgotten until one morning, Lady K’s boys busted into her
apartment with Lady K right behind them. She still remembers the disgust on
Lady K’s face when she saw her protruding belly as she greeted her with a slap.
They had driven straight to the hospital to Lady K’s doctor who performed an
unwarranted caesarean to take out the baby prematurely. That was the end of the
pregnancy for her and with it any chances of nurturing life as the doctor was
instructed to take out her womb too. She never got to find out if her baby
survived or what had been done with her. She always felt though that the baby
had been a girl.
The man
stirred awake to behold Nneka’s perfectly flexuous body as she stared at the
mirror.
‘Baby come back to bed. We can have another
go’
His voice
jerked her back to the present but she quickly composed herself and turned to
him, mustering her fakest smile.
‘Mr man, your time is up. You may leave now’
‘Ha-ahn don’t you want to make some extra
money? Someone is already awake and ready for you’
He motioned
with his eyes to beneath the covers.
‘Just pay me and leave’
‘Okay oh. If you say so. You’re the one who
is missing. What is the time sef?’
Nneka picked
up her phone from the dressing table and checked.
‘It is eight thirty’
‘Time
is slow today oh. How come it is still eight thirty’
‘It is morning’
Nneka said,
rolling her eyes.
‘What? You can’t be serious’
He fumbled
for his phone in the pocket of his trouser on the floor and confirmed the time.
He sprang to his feet mumbling.
‘Hay god why didn’t you wake me up?’
‘Chill it is Sunday. Unless you are a
pastor.’
She
chuckled. He ignored her and continued hurriedly dressing up and mumbling.
‘This woman will kill me today’
‘What woman? Are you married?’
‘How is that your business?’
The man
retorted, fire in his eyes.
‘I strictly stated that I don’t want married
men here. You lied to the receptionist’
‘Look young lady. The fact that you offered
me temporary satisfaction does not entitle you to a right of free speech. Mind
your words. All you are here to do is open your legs. If you were so smart, you
won’t be here anyway’
His words
felt like hot water on her skin and she wanted so bad to give him a piece of
her mind but she knew better than to challenge a customer too much. It will
leave a huge drop on her ratings and she needed every kobo now if she wanted to
get out of here and achieve the life she promised herself.
‘My money nko?’
‘Take it’
He flung it
to her feet and walked out, slamming the door behind him. She picked it up and
counted it, thirty thousand naira. It was five thousand naira short but she
felt a grin spreading across her face. He deserved it for lying. She usually
took precaution against men like him who lied about their marital status just to
be with her. She had smeared lipstick with her lips underneath the collar of
his shirt where he would not find it, but his wife most likely would.
Authors credit: Rachel Okoji Ifeoma
