CHAPTER ONE

Chioma stormed out of Chief Obinze's office in fury. She could not believe what just happened. He had just handed her the sum of N20,000.
What exactly could she do with such a paltry sum of money? She had her house rent to pay, handouts to buy and tuition fee of over N50,000.

She had thought her relationship with Chief Obinze would be a mutually beneficial one, but it seemed he was only interested in receiving and not giving. She pondered on why he was not generous but there was simply no excuse.
He had the money, everyone knew he did.

He had a thriving business, owned a mansion at Old G.R.A and a block of flats which he put out for rent, at Woji. His eldest daughters schooled at London and he always bragged about the thousands of pounds he paid per semester, for their tuition.

Whenever they went to the club, he bought more drinks than they could consume and would quickly order for a bottle of Champagne to be given to the girl whom he thought was a very good dancer.

However when it came to giving her money, he became an entirely different person. He would complain about how his business partners were yet to pay back their loan or how his wife recently demanded for money to go shopping in Dubai.
She had definitely had enough of his stingy attitude.

Earlier this week, he had promised to give her money to sort herself out and she hoped that it would be enough to pay her tuition fees, if it could not solve all her financial challenges.

To her utmost surprise, he handed her the sum of N20,000. She would not forget in a hurry: the look on his face when she threw the money at him. She had done so much for him to appreciate her.

They spent the weekends together, lodging in a hotel, where they would have several rounds of sex and she sometimes gave him a massage to put thim to sleep. She travelled with him occasionally during his business meetings at Lagos and Abuja, to warm his bed.

Few months ago when he slumped during a board meeting, she cooked and went to visit him every day in the hospital, because his wife had travelled to London to visit their children. She tried to please him in every way but he was not ready to please her.

As far as she was concerned, their so-called relationship had ended.

Chioma crossed hurriedly to the other side of the road, beckoning for cars to stop as the sudden ache in the ankle reminded her of her 6-inch heel shoes.

'Taxi!' She called out, taking two steps backward as a taxi cleared in front of her.

'How much to Dline?' She asked, perking into the front of the passenger's window.

'Madam it's N800,' the driver responded.

'Do I look as though I don't know where I'm going?' If you no go take N500, abeg dey go.' Chioma shot angrily.

'No vex madam. Make we dey go' pleaded the driver, bending down to open the door.

Throughout the ride home, Chioma was boggled with various issues. They were not just financial but emotional. She and her boyfriend Damiete had been fighting for over a week and he kept visiting her at home, against her wish.

It started three weeks ago when she went to visit him in his apartment. She found his door open, which was unusual. When she stepped in, she found Sarah sitting on him, riding him violently while he groaned.
Sarah immediately got off him when she saw her and Damiete looked away in shame.

Sarah was Damiete's neighbour and she had initially suspected they had something going on.
When she called him, he would tell her he was in Sarah's flat watching a movie or Sarah was in his, cooking.
Her fears vanished when he assured her times without number that they were just friends, until that day she found out the truth.

She was not really bothered about whom he decided to Bleep. Her anger however was that she had come to like Sarah and take her as a friend, due to the closeness between her and Damiete.

'Why did he have sex with her? Did he find her more attractive? Did she care for him better than I did?' were some of the questions than ran through Chioma's mind.
It could not be that Sarah was better than her in bed. Afterall, Chief Obinze had praised her several times about her sex skills and even nicknamed her S.M for Sex Machine.

Besides, Sarah did not have any special physical features. She was petite in stature, had small boobs and the type of ass Odion referred to as 'drawing board'. On the other hand, she stood at 5'6" tall, blessed with big boobs and an ass that made men stare when she walked by.

'Oh!' Chioma gasped as she was nudged back into reality.

'Where I go turn madam?' the driver asked, glancing at her.

'Turn left okay.' She replied absent-minded, realising she had gotten to her street.

'Madam, you seem to be troubled. I cannot ask you what the problem is because I may be unable to help. However, you have to take things easy.' Said the driver in a soft tone, mixed with fear.

'The worst thing that can happen to a person is to wallow in self-pity when something bad happens. You have to brace yourself and move on.' He stole a glance at her as if expecting a reply but Chioma said nothing.

'My wife left me three months ago to go and live with her lover, not minding our two-year old son.'

'Accept my sympathy' Chioma managed to say.

'I have decided to move on. I have to be there for my son.'

The driver sounded too calm for someone whose wife had just left him for another man.
Moreso, he was polite and cultured. His diction did not sound like the average Nigerian taxi driver.
Perhaps, he finished Secondary School but was unable to further his education, or he dropped out of the University due to lack of funds or like thousands of graduate who realised getting a whit-collar job in this country was as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack, decided to create a blue-collar job for himself.

'My name is Gbolahan. May I know yours?' He asked, smiling.

'I'm Katherine' she replied.

He stole a glance at her and smiled once more.

'What ethnicity are you?'

'I'm Igbo.'

Gbolahan's eyes lit with surprise.
'Wonderful!' He exclaimed, with Chioma gesturing for him to take the next turn.

'I once went to a ceremony and was speaking with a lady. I introduced myself as Gbolahan Adeshina Ayetoro and the lady asked for my English name. I asked her 'am I from England?' to which she replied 'no you're not, but you should have an English name.' Her reason was because English names are easy to pronounce but I disagree. When you treat something with great value, people tend to respect it with time. Why do I have to pick up an English name because society tells us our native names are local or hard to pronounce? If my Chinese friend introduces himself as Tan Wu Cheng, my English friend introduces himself as Gordon Lake and my Iranian friend intoduces himself as Ahmad bin Fuad, why then do I have to introduce myself as Robin Ayetoro?'

Chioma felt slightly uneasy. She did not think giving out her English name would bring about such sermon.

'My Igbo name is Chioma.' She said softly.

He looked at her and shook his head in disagreement, still wearing a warm smile.

'Your Igbo name is not Chioma. Rather, your name is Chioma. Do not hang your name like a scarf that you use to cover yourself in the cold, to remove when the weather gets hot. Let it be you. Be proud of it. It makes you unique. Names are a great part of our customs and traditions.'

For the first time Chioma glanced at Gbolaban, unable to hide the smile that had crept up on her face. He was articulate and intelligent. His views: he believed strongly on and was ready to share his knowledge.

She had never thought there was anything special in her name 'Chioma'. She and her friends fancied English names because they sounded posh, even though they did not know the meaning of these so-called posh names.

'Thank you very much Gbolahan' she said mildly.

'You're welcome Chioma'.

'Slow down...alright, park here.' She gestured as he parked in fron t of her gate. She handed him one thousand naira note and he handed her her change.

'Take care of yourself okay.' He said, peering his head out his window as he reversed.

'You too. Take care of your son.'

Chioma stood outside her gate and watched Gbolahan zoom off. She felt her heart zoom off with him. She was excited but could not explain why. It was absurd to fall for a cab driver.
Besides, she did not collect his phone number. Was there any chance they would meet again? Could he come to look for her since he knew where she lived?
He had made her feel intimidated with his aura. He had an air of superiority that floated around him. It was natural.
Unconsciously, he would stand tall among men of financial affluence.

Unlike Chief Obinze who was lousy, Gbolahan did not need to be lousy to convey his point. His confidence while speaking, was enough to clear all doubts. He seemed like the kind of man that would pamper his woman. He would introduce her to his friends in social gatherings and occasionally smile; the kind of smile that says 'I'm lucky to have you'.

She had been in several relationships that she though would last. Sometimes it did, other times it ended even before it begun.

As she opened the door to her apartment which she shared with Odion, she was greeted with the smell of 'igbo'.
Odion laid sprawled out on the sofa watching television, with a wrap of weed in one hand and a bottle of beer on the floor. She looked up to see Chioma and turned away.

'Girl wassup?' Said Chioma, taking off her shoes.

'Your sister was here today.'

'My...my sister was here?' She stuttered. 'In that case, I think we need to share that weed so I can get high and forget my pain.'

CALL GIRLS

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© Missali 2018

SYNOPSIS

Follow the lives of young ambitious women as they strive to make it to the top by any means possible, irrespective of consequences.

*Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to put up my idea here.

I'd been writing on another site but I realised Nairaland Community is wider.

Please read and be entertained.