The Ghost-Worker Aristol

Isn't it a national tragedy that the only collateral you have in living a comfortable life are your big boobs, curves, spotless face, smooth skin, brazilian wig (s) and contacts of pot-bellied men and young marauding boys who are ready to debase you into a sexual commodity?

It is painful that your life is actually dormant. You post pictures of your private embodiments online and physically, you convince your low self esteem that your internal deficit can be nutrient via exorbitant materialistic appearance. Even when you truly know that you live a faux life, you convince yourself with the shambolic and fading momentary gains that follows your lack of respect for yourself.

You make a photo collage of pictures hueing hotel rooms, shopping centres, different estates, political and highbrow social gathering in order to convince your low-self-esteem that you're actually better than those who aren't traders in your trade. Infact, for everyday you go out, you make a picture of your wears to intimidate your mirror self and encourage your low self esteem.

You award yourself a title of "big girl" to cover your chronic lowself esteem and poverty mentality. Yes, poverty mentality I said, you know why? Life is not easy, only those who fight genuinely overcome that poverty, you who took the easier way by exploiting your natural commodity do it because of poverty mentality, because there was never a struggle, only a jungle of immorality and sexual rascality.

How can you even feel special? Why? You're a ghost worker in the field of life, you use your easier way to milk from the hard work of married women, genuine hard working ladies, sisters and brothers of those you sell your wares to. You're a sexual and social thief. A home breaker. An economic saboteur. A low life and the lowest slide in the cadre of feminine virtuousness, NO! I meant virusness, because you share that one too from one man to another.

How can you call yourself a big girl for affording the expensive things of life by trading your punany? Why should you feel special when you have commercialise that space to escape your lowself esteem?

...and then, constantly, you ply highways every weekend to different towns looking for buyers. You constantly put your life at risk and the happiness of your parents at risk. Those poor parents, praying that you will make a fine woman but you make yourself a fine harlot.

You create a following by making the vulnerable ones feel you're a big girl, they want to be big girls too, so they want to be like you. As you understand their vulnerability, you recruit them to join you in order to boost your low-self-confidence. ..and you make low other persons.

You're weak, internally empty, internally poor even though outwardly expensive. Even those men you ride on their donis price you as a commodity. Infact, you're a potential ritual animal to increase their fortunes.

This same you, who have pillaged the moral valley would dare want your spoils of war to be: Good marriage, wealth, God-fearing boyfriend and husband who won't cheat on you, many children after marriage, family love and even to be the President's wife.

You're a selfish being, carlous at its best because you would have deprived others who have worked for it genuinely, scheming your way as usual to be there.

But there's a simple judgement for you. . An empty end awaits you.

You're a ghost worker of success.

Here are the true feminine heroes:

The OK goods sellers, the true Make-up artists, the educated feminists, the female bloggers, teachers and hawkers. The female bankers, lecturers, Judges and the virtuous illiterate women out there. You're all my heroes, you have a class. You're the real workers while those ghost workers steal from you. You're all the big girls!

But there is a simple judgement for you... A full and lasting end when you breakthrough. Continous happiness without guilt. Then ofcourse, you must have tapped your internal esteem to affirm that you're human and a woman.

C. Promise Emmanuel, June 11th, 2016.