₦airaland Forum

CrazyMan: 1. Poor or no use of paragraphs: the way you posted this story, without bothering to hit the enter key for new paragraphs...it would give readers a hard time trying to read it.

2.
Em....I don't know...this phrase doesn't make any sense to me.

Tautology if you ask me.

3. Misleading title: You called it a story...but so far, I'm yet to classify it as a story.

Its more like a sestina poem to me.

I'll keep on reading...when I find more lapses, I'll post them.

1. Good observation here. Typing with my pocket PC made mess of the story. I coppied from my MSword where I first typed - good paragraph and pasted here - paragraph disappeared. Have given it a tweak anyway.

2. .....!

3. It's a short story though poetic.
Waiting for ur further observation.

Today, just this morning, for the second time in five months, I woke up in the morning without a man lying beside me. In the stronghold of the police, I woke up with a set of heavy shackles weighing me down. The room is dark. This room stinks. It's like I'm suffocating. Where are my men? My dear customers - the few lovely ones. Are they coming to cuddle me? Could this be a dream? Could it be another kind of faceless masquerade pursuing me in the dream? But how can it be a dream? This is so real, but why me? Who will take care of Aduya? My worst fear has come to pass. It's morning already. Though here is still dark, pretty dark, I hear voices of men. Sometimes those of women. But they are not my men. They are threatening voice of the police, dishing out instructions to the culprits. I can also hear the distant drone of traffic. It's probably 05:00am.

The other time I woke up in the morning without a man in my bed was about two months ago, during a short visit to my grandmum in the village whose nickname is Aduya. The name she got from her youth, the name she is fondly called till date. My pathetic grandmum, old and exhausted, with tons of thorn, ranging from poverty to persistent sickness; from loneliness to the agony of burying all her children. Six children she bore, six children she buried. Two sickly children that died in adolescence and rest four that lived to adulthood but soon took their leave one after the other. Like a flash of light, they all went to the netherworld, reluctantly waving goodbye - very bitter goodbye. They deserted Aduya. They abandoned her to the pity of a few beloved and sarcastic condolence of the enemies. Dear mum, you were the third to come but the last to leave. At the very point you were mostly needed, you said goodbye. You left me to face the angry looks of the world alone. Once again 'R.I.P.'

If there would be no strong reason to take proper care of Aduya, the solemn promise I made to my mum beside her sick bed, just about four hours before her final farewell was a compelling one to think home. 'Blessing' she slurred, almost with her last strength. 'My whole strength is withdrawing. It is....it's withdrawing' she pursed to take sessions of deep breath. 'Promise me, you won't forget my mother.' Again she pursed but this time, it became permanent. The sensational lips clasped and the eloquent tongue stuck. The coldness in her voice saw my spine shivering. So slowly, the adorable face turned pale. Sooner than four hours, she was wrestling for breath in the cold fist of death. My heart bled and my eyes, red and puffy. I tried to console myself when words of friends and neighbors failed but it was a heart too heavy with pains and pity that the only cure was entrusted to the mercy of time. I tried to imagine my world without mum, it stood hopelessly a blur. Mum is no longer here to make true to her promise of sending her only daughter to school at all cost. My days of soft, tender advice that always returned hope even in the face of failure have gone because mum has accepted the call to a silent journey away from this troubled world, leaving me with one simple last wish.

So I went to see Aduya two months ago just as I regularly did in honour of this last wish. I passed the night with her in the village. But I had to rush back to the city the following morning because only a night spent in the village shoved off one regular customer that paid me up front. He was angry for negligence on my part and finally requested to have his money back because another girl had taken over. But I was not in the least bothered because business was booming. And it continued to boom until yesterday when fate struck.

Two men came fighting in my room over who would sleep over. Customers? Yes, they were both my customers; good customers at that. Dauda was my good customer and so was Peter. Both men were wonderful in different ways. The former was a commercial bus conductor and the later, a newspaper vendor. People say, I'm ebony and busty, others say, I'm sexy and charming. Sometimes I feel flattered, sometimes I feel appreciated. The generous Dauda thinks I'm gorgeous. If I'm nude, Dauda would have his eyes glued to me. He would ask me to dance for him, still in the nude. Then he wouldn't mind flinging onto me all the money he made for the day. He often did the flinging because I like dancing. Even though he only visited once or in rare cases twice a week, he was most worthy because an hour with Dauda was more lucrative than a day with ten men. Peter was in the opposite. He spent more time and less cash from his little means. I tolerated him because his handsome look made up the lost and again, his massive endowment in the nether region. There I was, serving these men along with many other customers until yesterday.

It was Friday evening and the hotel was so busy. It usually gets busy on the evening of Fridays. On this fateful Friday evening, civil servants and traders came alike. They drank and danced while prostitutes hovered....no I hate that word prostitute. I wouldn't want to be addressed as one. Ladies hovered around them. They gave seductive come on to the guys. The richer a guy appears, the more girls flock around him. The central Air conditioner was at its peak to cool off smoke of cigarettes that wafted from every angle. The live band was already in active session, making the whole premises awesome, which complemented series of fancy light that flickered. I looked at myself in the mirror and behold, everything was intact. The skimpy skirt was a sure bait. The pink bustier top sent my ample boobs dangling at every step as I descend the staircase, smiling all the way to the bar, hoping to be lucky. Just two minutes in the bar, I felt teased from behind. Needless to guess who. It was Peter. His fragrance said it all. I called him by name before turning to see his face. We sat to drink some bottles of beer, then proceeded into my room upstairs. I had hoped to discharge him in no time so I could go back into the bar and entice guys with better cash. This was not to happen because Dauda was almost at my door. Soon, the door creaked and slowly swung open to which Peter questioned why somebody in his right senses would just bump into the room without first knocking. Dauda who turned to leave upon seeing that I was with somebody stopped to react to Peter's barking. 'Blessing, I dey inside bar dey wait. Try discharge this mumu sharp-sharp because I go soon show again.' Dauda said in obvious anger.

It was getting dark. Slowly getting dark. At this point, the bar was most probably filled beyond capacity. It was evident in the increasingly booming sound of the music and loud cheers of excited dancers. 'Peter, you just have to go please.' I said, oblivious of his new plan. Peter had in a few seconds of silence decided to pass the night in my place just to thwart Dauda's desire to make a pass. 'But! Who be that Ode sef?' Peter asked, referring to Dauda. I didn't have to answer that question because I owed nobody no explanation. 'U no go because say u need meat go dey chop toed. Arrh-arrh! Dat man no clean na. Blessing, u no suppose dey let this kind people dey near u at all. As he get mind call me mumu, na so I go get mind spoil en show today.' I was still pressuring him to go when Dauda resurfaced. And there came a serious argument between the two of them.

We were ten occupants on the first floor. We call it girls' zone. The whole of second floor was for lodging while the ground floor was the bar. When this argument started, there were only three girls in the whole of girls' zone, myself inclusive. The other two girls seemed busy with their men in their separate rooms. So they could hardly come out because of mere arguing voices. Besides, such argument was a regular thing as far as that hotel was concerned. The two men were shouting at each other on top of their voice but nobody heard them from the bar because the booming music was so high that even the walls vibrated. So I was left alone to remedy the wrong - somehow, it was my cross.

Why this ugly coincidence? These two dudes collided on a total unscheduled platform. Why have they never called to book their turn? Not even Dauda who bought me phones on two different occasions to replace my stolen ones. I can't stop wishing they called. Perhaps, that would save me this doom. What peaceful method is applicable here? What shall I tell the manager of this building if it finally explodes? A list of endless questions continued popping up in my head just as their quarrelling ignited fight. I ought not to side either of them. I only had to make peace and to make peace, I knelt pleading but that received no attention. I moved to separate but my strength was not fit to undo their tight grips. Then, I alerted neighbors for assistance but the two ladies were damn busy with their men. I screamed louder for help. Just then a girl hove into view from the other end of the passage and again, the manager who was always eager to venture into any dispute mainly to find faults with his occupants so he could penalize them at the end of the day. The girl seemed drunk and slightly drowsy and was retiring into her room apparently to freshen up for a second attempt as there was no fish in her net yet. The three of us hastened back into the room only to find the two men lying flat on the floor. Dauda completely dead and Peter, panting. What they did to each other in just a flash of seconds, the police detectives are yet to find out.

I am out of business. This time not because I went to visit grandma. The police is interrogating me. They said I am either the killer or an accomplice. But I am neither the killer nor an accomplice. Who will vindicate me? Who will thwart this duress. All my effort to explain fell on deaf ear.

I have no knowledge of where I am going and I have no will of my own. I was wrong about virtually everything. The picture has suddenly become clear. I really stepped on toes in my fight for survival. I have offended both God and man. People had advised me to use what I have to get what I need. I now realize how wrong they were. Oh! how stupid I was to take that advice. The things I have are not truly mine; not even the life I live because I have been made to know that one day, I will give account of my life. I am most guilty. This Wicked advice has made victims of people and I am now one victim of my own action. Dauda has paid the bitter price. His wife and children will miss him forever. I will miss him too. To my dear Dauda, may the merciful Lord treat you not according to the weakness of man but his gracious sustenance. And to every other person that I have offended, I pour out my heart, in repentance, in apology and in love. My journey from this cell is undefined. I've no known destination but whether dead or alive, in heaven or in hell, I'll be banking on your forgiveness.

By next month, I will be reaching you again via one and only Nairaland that has given me the opportunity to be heard. I will be reaching you on the proceedings of the court. Until then, kindly count me in your prayers.

Fasterboy: We are waiting.....

I started the story this morning. Will post it here asap.

I want to post a short story here to make the thread active again.

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