How a prostitute fell in love with a man of God? This is my story.


I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, my mother had 8 of us, she was just a cleaner while my father was a night security guard. We lived in a 2 room apartment. My mother held our family together, she earned better than my father, my father on the other hand was a morning drunk; whenever he finished his shift at the company he worked he would branch at the local ogogoro seller and soak himself in chemicals, then come back home and pass out till 12pm.


I am the 4th out of 8 children, I grew up knowing this life, we would most times after school follow our mom to work, we would help her clean people’s compound, wash clothes and toilets. We did all these to ease the stress on our mother who was fast becoming aged, our first born chisom dropped out of school to go learn how to be a mechanic, our second born Donald also dropped out of school to go be a houseboy to someone in the north, our third born Nkem had to get married at 17, I watched all these happen with heavy hearts, I was waiting for my turn, when I will be asked “Ifeoma, which one will it be, will you go learn sewing or hairdressing”?


My passion for education was what kept me going, I came first in class, that’s why I was on a scholarship, but this scholarship didn’t cover books just tuition, my principal understood the situation at home I guess that’s why I was given the scholarship in the first place, buying those books was hard, we had mouths to feed, we had rent to pay and other amenities, well I was lucky, I never got asked the question, I finished secondary school and that’s where my problems began.


I told my mother I wanted to further my education, she was happy and sad, happy because amongst all her children I was the one who was passionate about school; she always bragged I would be the one to change the family situation, she was sad because she and my father couldn’t afford to send me to school. I was determined to further my education, I wanted to be a nurse and I wasn’t going to let poverty deprive me of my dream.


I had saved a little from working with my mother, I wrote “JAMB” passed with flying colors, did the school internal exams, I passed also, I was so happy, people wrote these exams for years and luck never smiled on them, but I wrote it once and passed and I saw it as a sign from God that this was the right path for me. My mother raised some money for me for registration and hostel fees, my father surprised me by giving me a paltry sum, I really wasn’t expecting anything from him, I guess he was ashamed and proud, I was the only one in my house who not only completed secondary school but would see the four walls of a university.


My first semester was horrible, I was always hungry, I had sworn to myself I would make my parents proud, I will never disappoint them, I will study hard, graduate with flying colors get a good job and send my younger ones to school I was so determined, I was always the first in class, ofcos I couldn’t afford handouts, I would beg and beg my course mates to allow me photocopy some parts because I couldn’t afford to photocopy all, I read on empty stomach, I was always hungry.


At night I would wash the school toilets and bathroom with the lady who washed it, she would appreciate it with a few hundred naira, that would last me for some days and then the hunger would begin. One day I swallowed my pride, if not I would have stolen, I asked my roommate for “Garri” she gave me without blinking an eye, I was shocked, I had always thought she was a snub because she rarely spoke with anyone in the room, that evening she brought chops from an eatery for me, I wanted to reject it, how I wished I had, if I had I would never be telling you this story; I grabbed it and thanked her like a million times, she smiled and sauntered to her bed.


That’s how Natasha and I became friends, she was like a godsend, from the first day she gave me garri I was never hungry again, she always made sure of that, sometimes she would dash me her old clothes because I have been wearing mine for ages, all I had to do was do her assignments for her, sometimes wash her clothes which I didn’t mind, sometimes I risked my education to do her tests and carry overs for her, but I didn’t mind I would do anything for her. One day I asked her “why do you do these things for me”? She responded “You remind me of someone” I never asked who, I just assumed I reminded her of her sister or something.


One weekend, during holidays I couldn’t afford to go home, Natasha had parked her things and asked “Ifeoma when are you resuming”? I told her I wasn’t going home, she asked why, and I told her, she asked if I wouldn’t mind going home with her; I jumped at the idea, I hurriedly packed my things, she stopped me and said not to worry she would get new things for me.


It turned out we weren’t going to her house, in fact she didn’t even live in the state we went to, she paid for a hotel for the both of us, I asked her if her father would not mind her absence at home she said she doesn’t care she pays her bills herself I asked how do you get money? She said I’d find out soon. We went to a boutique later in the day and she got things for both of us, I was so happy, clothes I could never afford, shoes I never thought I’d wear, Natasha got them all for me.

That night she wanted us to go clubbing, I was excited, I had never been to a club before, she chose a dress for me, made me up, I looked at myself in the mirror, I had never looked that beautiful, I was beyond elated, I kept looking at myself and Natasha was busy laughing at me. She called a cab, the cab picked us at the hotel and we were on our way. When we got to the club, she ordered me to act matured, I was never to misbehave or get drunk or give a “mere boy” any attention, that the older the men the better chance of getting huge sums of money, I asked money? She said yes of course, I wondered if they dashed money at the club so I asked her, she laughed for a long time and told me not to worry as I would be learning soon.


To be continued.


Talk2Bella.

http://talk2bella..com/2016/08/i-am-prostitute-who-fell-in-love-with.html