₦airaland Forum

Scarcity is lack
Lacking is poverty
Poverty paints the society black
You can’t imagine the consequences of scarcity
When there is scarcity of food
People will not look good
When there is scarcity of water
Human beings begin to suffer
Scarcity leads to stealing
Stealing destroys the society
When there is scarcity
Everything comes crumbling

http://penastory.com/2015/12/10/advice-me-my-boyfriends-leave-me-after-i-lend-them-money/#more-338

I need you to advice me on a particular issue that keeps affecting my relationships. I am a young lady of 24 and my last three relationships have ended now because of the same issue, money. I finished school at 22 and was able to secure a good job which pays me well.

When I like a guy, I can do anything for him and my last three boyfriends borrow money from me a lot. I noticed that when I start asking for my money back after some time, they get offended and quit the relationship. My current boyfriend is not talking to me as I send you this email right now over the same issue of money. I am getting worrried that it could be spiritual. Please what can I do?



Please let’s all be mature in our comments, no vulgar words or insults. Thank you

http://penastory.com/2015/12/10/advice-me-my-boyfriends-leave-me-after-i-lend-them-money/#more-338

http://penastory.com/2015/12/12/the-chronicles-of-a-government-hooker-episode-2-18/#more-359


[Excerpt From Episode 1

I remember my first outfit to the club, it was a little black dress with cut outs in the front chest region that showed peeks of my breasts. I am naturally more endowed than Lily so I fit into the cloth very well and all the other girls complimented my look…To Read Episode 1:[url][b]CLICK HERE[/b]http://penastory.com/2015/12/05/the-chronicles-of-a-government-hooker-episode-1-18/[/url]

As we drove in the car, the other girls chattered nineteen to the dozen as they recalled some of their past experiences.

“And I asked him, did you just tap my butt?” Kiki was saying “And he had this look of ‘yeah I did and I ain’t sorry on his face,’ so I turned fully around to face him. I walked up to him and was so close to him that he could feel my breath on his face as I leaned into him. The funny part is I am even taller than this slowpoke and he had his eyes glued to my breast.” With that she cupped both her breasts in her hands and gave it a gentle squeeze which sent Shady and Lola laughing. Lily and I were listening to the whole narrative with rapt attention as if our very lives depended on it.

“I could see that he was getting Hot just looking at my boobs and I slowly slid my finger from his head down to his stomach, pausing by where his belt was and asked in my most sultry manner, ‘so you like you some of these goodie huh? I then let my finger slid into his waistband and I felt some hair there.’”

“I trust you, you are such a crazy girl, what if he had grabbed your boobs right then and there?” Shady asked between laughs.

“I didn’t really know what I was thinking, I was just really mad that he had the audacity to tap my butt. Like darling, these goodies don’t come cheap! Anyway, he nodded and licked his dry lips and I pulled out my finger and this time around I grabbed his dick through his trouser..”

“Was he big?” Lola asked.

“You and big things ehen, you this girl, they will not use big things and kill you oh.” Shady quipped. Lily and I exchanged glances at this as Lola shrugged and replied

“Well you know what they say that if you are going to eat something, you should eat the better one. I just can’t stand those guys with puny little toothpicks that they call cock. I mean I don’t even feel anything, I just lie there and let them pump, already waiting for them to get off me.” Lola fired back.

“Well I think he carry small sha but as I started feeling him get hard in my hand, I gave him a kick in the balls and ran back to them Alhaji, if not for the bodyguards that day, that guy was going to have my blood.”

“Well that should serve him right for tapping your butt in the first place.”

“At least your grabbed his package back.” Lola said with a wink.

“”Why are you two so quiet like you are being taken to a funeral?” It was Shady asking as she noticed that Lily and I have been quiet.

“Oh I was simply listening to what you guys were saying. You seem to have had quite some nasty encounters.” Lily said with a bit of trepidation in her voice. The older girls looked at one another and burst out laughing.

“Sweetie, call it the hazards of the job. You will meet some really great guys and at the same time, you will meet some low life bastards.” Kiki said as she squeezed our shoulders affectionately.

“Looks like we are here.” Lola said gaily and I looked out the window. The neon signboard that met my eyes told me we were at some club named “Dirty Saint” and I smiled at the paradox of the name of the place. The stories of the other girls had had more effect on me than they would ever know and I was ready to show them that I could be every bit of a bad girl as they could be.

Lola got down first followed closely by Shady then Lily, as I was about to follow next, Kiki whispered

“Ruby, just a second.” I turned around and she looked me in the face and continued “I can see you have a lot of potential girl, if you play your cards right, you will be great at this.” With that she at my dress so that the dress came down a bit making the neckline come a little lower. More of my boobs became exposed in the cut out design in front of the dress and she smiled at me and nodded that I was ready to go.

Let the games begin.

http://penastory.com/2015/12/12/the-chronicles-of-a-government-hooker-episode-2-18/#more-359

http://penastory.com/2015/12/08/the-darkness-in-our-sun/


Abiriba Outskirts, Biafra, 1969.

Akancha was still very sleepy when she left their makeshift hut.

“Why do we have to go so early?” She asked when her mother woke her. “The sun is not even up yet.”

“Please don’t ask me useless questions. The girls are waiting for you,” her mother said.

“The woods are not running away.”


“Bia, get up from there. Are we not going to eat this morning eh? Your sister left since to gather leaves and you are here complaining.” Her mother’s temper was very short. Akancha knew better than to argue further. She got off the banana leaves that separated her from the bare ground and served as a bed.

As she stood, her wet clothes stuck to her body. She hissed as she straightened it out. It had rained heavily all night, and the palm fronds that were supposed to serve as roof did absolutely nothing to save them from the onslaught of the rain. Her father’s coughs kept her awake all night.

“Papa kwanu?” She asked as she joined her mother outside the shelter

“Hurry up before the girls leave you”, her mother said. Akancha looked around the shelter, her step mother wasn’t around, she wanted to ask her mother, but the woman was scowling at her. Akancha smiled sheepishly at her then left. Other girls were waiting for her.

“Try to wake up earlier, eh, this girl”, Urenna said to her as she joined them. Urenna was the oldest girl there and talked a lot, she was their pseudo leader.

“I’m sorry”, Akancha said, but no one heard her as the girls were already walking away, Urenna in the lead.

“So, my brother kept on crying and crying”, Urenna was saying as Akancha walked with them. “Mma and I tried and tried to keep him quiet but no he won’t stay quiet, the guns did not stop and then the rain started”. Urenna was talking about the gun shots that filled the air, sounding all night and synchronizing with the rain in an attempt to keep the whole camp awake.

“Ete Ude did not wake this morning”, Nwagu said. Nwagu was Akancha’s agemate, the two of them were the youngest in the group. They all fell silent for a moment, as the information sank in. Ete Ude was an old man, he was several years older than Akancha’s father and his cough’s were several times hoarser. His death was hardly surprising, in fact, death was more attainable than a good meal, far much more attainable. The grim reaper had become such a frequent visitor, many welcomed him happily into their homes. After all, what was the need living in such terrible conditions? Hell sounded like a better deal.

“I heard the ikpirikpi ogu dancers ran back in the night”, Chidinma broke the silence as they walked pass the shelter of a dancer. The pot bellied man was lying on his back on banana leaves while his wife furiously dabbed a deep gash on his leg with a wet rag. She was muttering something about deaf ears and widowhood.

“I don’t even know why they go there”, Urenna said. “If they want to fight, they should pick a gun and fight, eh, not go there and dance”

“It’s a war dance”, Akancha said, as if Urenna didn’t know.

“It is still dancing.”

“It is for moral support”, Akancha argued.

“Moral support my foot, it is a death wish”, Urenna said. “Have you forgotten Uche’s father?”

Uche used to be Akancha’s classmate before the war. Her mother who worked in Enugu never made it back home and her father was killed by a stray bullet at the trenches on ugwu rubber. He was an ikpirikpi ogu dancer. Ihey had gone to lift the spirits of the soldiers. Akancha remembered, a little too vividly, how Uche’s aunt screamed when her brother’s body was returned to the camp, carried by the other dancers. She could still see clearly in her head the look on Uche’s face, the blankness of it, her wet eyes, confused and static. Uche went to live with her aunt at Abam but Akancha had seen the girl recently in the camp. The hair that once crowned her head were no more, her head seemed to be inflated, like a balloon, her limbs like broom sticks flailed in the wind, her stomach, like that of a pregnant woman. She had kwashiorkor.

Akancha had seen many children with kwashiorkor. Many of them never lived long after she had seen them. So she had cried when she looked at Uche’s swollen foot and stomach.

“This girl, Akancha!” Urenna shouted. They were already a few yards ahead of her. “Biko, I beg you, hurry up, some of us have other things to do after fetching this wood.” Akancha jogged up to the group. Urenna stared daggers at her but continued leading the group out of the camp and into the bushes around. They soon passed the nnoo, the public toilet, at the edge of the camp. The aroma from the latrines, filled the air and Akancha held her breath.

“Men and women having to struggle to defecate in such putrid conditions at the same place and time is perhaps the worst thing about this war” Mma Ukwu, Akancha’s step mother once said. Akancha thought the conditions at the nnoo was bad, but there were worse things about the war. Like the total lack of food, having to go find leaves, barely edible leaves and using them to make very watery soup or stew. The fact that there was no more bush meat, and people were improvising – Okoro’s father made a mean lizard stew. Or the fact that the nnoo was not very far at all from the stream were they got drinking water from or the fact that they had run out of space to bury loved ones who died everyday.

The group soon got to the stream, which was flowing faster than normal.The rains had made it overflow and increased the current. The sun had not come up yet, so people hadn’t come to fetch water yet. The girls carefully placed their legs on the slippery stones on which the clear stream rushed over. Akancha was behind, the force of the water hitting on her leg nearly sent her slipping and falling, but she caught herself. She wondered if she could crossover carrying a heavy bundle of wood on her head. Once they crossed over, they walked a little more into the forest and began picking dried up wood. They did it as fast as they could. They were not safe on that side of the stream. Once soldiers had come from that direction, they raided the camp and took young men to go and fight. At another time, a girl’s body was found on that side of the river, she had been beaten to death. Akancha’s mother told her the girl was raped and not beaten, the men did not want to release that information as it would shame the girl’s family.

Once, they were done picking, they carried their bundles of firewood on their heads, using leaves as shock absorber. Urenna helped Akancha lift the heavy bundle on her head. When they got to the fast flowing stream, the older girls carefully crossed over chatting animatedly about a lazy girl they knew who never helped her mother do anything. “She sleeps like a dead man”, Urenna was saying.

The current was too much for Akancha. She stood perplexed at the water. Nwagu, who was the same size as Akancha, tried but she fell into the stream. Her scream synchronized with a barrage of gunshots that exploded suddenly in the forest, sending birds flying away in a confusion. The girls who had crossed the stream scurried away, leaving the other two girls behind. When the dust settled, Akancha opened her eyes, she had shut them involuntarily. She rushed to Nwagu, who had come out of the water, her bundle of wood had been carried away by the current.

“Sorry”, Akancha said as she held the wet girl. The gunshots came again and they instinctively held each other. They were still holding each other when the guns stopped. It was not unusual at all, the gunshots, they heard them everyday. Sometimes too close for comfort other times it was a faint noise in the night sky, but it was a constant presence in their midst.

“I have to pick another bunch of wood”, Nwagu said after they let go of each other.

“I will help you”, Akancha offered. The two girls picked some wood tied them together and waited on a stump for the girls who had left them behind to come back and help them across. Returning to the camp without the wood was not an option. Akancha had not eaten anything in almost a day, neither had anyone in her family.

“This day, last year, they came and took my brother to fight”, Nwagu said after a few moments of silence. “My mother fetches the firewood, but she has been crying all night and this morning too. She hasn’t gotten up this morning”

“My brother joined willingly, when the war began”, Akancha said. “He used to come back home, but since we ran from Abiriba, we have not seen or heard from him.”

“We never heard from my brother since that afternoon. He used to go and hide in the backyard every morning, so that when soldiers came looking for young men, we’d tell them there was none and they’ll leave. My mum used to carry food to him in the backyard. They came by night, once, and they took my brother, from where he was sleeping”

Akancha did not say anything, they sat in silence for a while, watching the stream cascade over the slippery rocks.

“Let’s play tin kom tin kom” Akancha suggested. Nwagu smiled. They faced each other and started a song while clapping their hands together in an already rehearsed manner, paying attention to not miss the other’s palm. They clapped and sang, creating beautiful music and soon sunlight filtered through the canopy and lit up the forest floor and engulfing the forest in unimaginable beauty. This same forest, where dead bodies had been found, where brutal acts had been committed took the look of paradise as the girls sang and clapped. Their pre puberty voices sounding as that of angels.

They were singing when the other girls came.

“You girls are here playing, come let’s go” Urenna said as she carried Akancha’s bundle of wood, another girl carried Nwagu’s own and they carefully crossed the stream and headed towards the camp, they crossed people carrying buckets and headed to the stream.

“These girls have made me miss being the first person to go and fetch water”, Urenna complained. “Now all these people will go and mess up the water before I can go back”, she hissed.

Urenna carried the wood to Akancha’s shelter “Mma Akancha, here’s your daughter. You see we did not eat her, eh”, she said to Akancha’s mother and dropped the wood and rushed off, ignoring the thanks from Akancha’s mother.

“Akancha, go and rest, biko” her mother said to her “or help your sister and clean the shelter.”

Akancha, nodded and entered the makeshift hut, her sister was seated on the floor staring into space.

“You are back,” Ada, Akancha’s sister said.

“I am.”

“Your ogbo is dead”, Ada said. “That is where papa and mma Ukwu have been since.”

Akancha’s leg shook a little, her father’s younger sister was more than just her namesake, she was like her godmother. Before the war, Akancha spent most of her time with the woman. It was her house she first went into when she dismissed from school. She loved her as she loved her mother. But as much as the lump in her throat weighed her down, she held herself, it was the war, it had made them immune, too immune to mourn.

http://penastory.com/2015/12/08/the-darkness-in-our-sun/

www.penastory.com/2015/12/08/twenty-episode-2/

[Excerpt From Episode 1: “I am afraid I would need you to come in to identify a body. We think it might be someone you know.” She laughed derisively and hung up without another word. Two deaths in one!
“What is Edmund Crescent turning into?” she yelled into the silent night….To Read Episode 1: Click
HERE ]
The alarm went off at exactly 7a.m. and her sleep befuddled mind simply communicated the need to shut out the offending noise. She stretched out her arm towards the alarm that was shrilling as if the world was about to come to and end silenced it. Immediately the noise stopped, her mind also came awake. She jerked away guiltily like someone who had been stung by an insect and her eyes went straight to the mirror that stood between her pink coloured wardrobe. Her eyes were swollen but not from heavy sleep but the lack of sleep. One look at her could tell anyone that she hadn’t slept well. But how could she have had a peaceful night considering yesterday’s activities?
That thought made her jolt fully awake as the events of yesterday came flooding back. That was why she had woken with a start, the murder was on her mind. She climbed out of bed with trepidation and took a look around the room. For a brief second. her eyes rested on her own portrait by the door. The dark eyes framed by long brows seemed to stare back at her guiltily and she shifted her gaze away to the picture of her mom and late dad but in them she only found condemnation again. She stared at the sign on the door “Strong Lasgidi Babe,” and she smiled wryly. Even she didnt know she was that strong.
The bloodstains needed to be cleaned before mom gets back, her mind finally registered. She had been too busy after that hurried burial. Only if Mathew had come but she quickly dismissed Matthew from her thoughts as she took another look at her swollen face in the mirror before slipping on a robe and headed out to begin the cleaning. As she began her scrubbing, starting from the living room floor, her mind flashed to the activities of yesterday.
David was her mother’s boyfriend and although he was always been polite and pleasant to her, she wasn’t particularity fond of him. Maybe it had to with the thought that he was about to replace her father in her mother’s life. He came calling and she informed him that mother wasn’t home and was never home at that kind of time. She was watching a TV programme and she went right back to it, plopping into the couch and munching on her chocolate cookies like he wasn’t present. He tried starting a conversation but her monosyllabic replies was enough to discourage any conversation.
“You are really beautiful you know?” That caught her attention and she looked at him. The smile on his face sickened her and she muttered an off handed thank you. He shifted closer to her on the couch and tried to take her in his arms but she jumped up immediately and that was when the beast in him unleashed itself. She fought like a wounded tigress and he had chased her right to the dinning area just by the end of the living room. As he pinned her down, she yanked frantically at the table cloth, trying to find something to pull herself. The table cloth came spilling its content on the floor, jug, plates, a jar of peanut butter, a Bournvita tin and then the knife. She didnt think twice when her hand found that. She grabbed it and plunged it in his back, she kept plunging till he lay limp on her and that was when it hit her. She had just killed someone.
“How could he even think of doing that to me?.” She asked herself under her breath. She was feeling tired again from that scrubbing. Her body still ached from his attack and her head was beginning to throb a bit from a dull headache. She needed to clear her mind and perhaps writing down the events would help she thought and brought out her diary.
Friday October 26th
I’m way pass greeting you dear diary. I’m so scared…. I’ve killed someone and I buried him myself. Funny thing is that I feel no remorse at all. Was it my fault?? It was only self defense…. If I hadn’t killed him he’d have hurt me plenty plenty. He’d have hurt my mother. My only treasure. Matthew is nowhere to be found. I am still expecting his call…
Just then her telephone rang and she ran to the living room, praying that it was Matthew this time.
“Hello,” she literally barked into the phone
“I know what you did, I saw it all…” The voice was was gruff and that of a man. Her blood ran cold and suddenly, the room seemed to be spinning.
“Who is this…What..what…what are you talking about?” She stammered even as she leaned against the table, trying not to drop the phone in her hand.
“I saw you, the corpse you buried last night. Check, where you hid it, dead men don’t walk.” The line went dead and she dropped the phone with a bang as she ran out to the backyard. The shallow grave had been dug out by somebody and the body was gone. She stumbled back in fear just as the door bell went off.

Read Episode one on link below

www.penastory.com/2015/12/08/twenty-episode-2/

http://penastory.com/2015/12/07/agidigbo-bryan-oluwatimilehin/

Echoing through the wooden emptiness
Like ripples on the face of an Osun tributary
The voice of wisdom cries out
Listen if you must, listen if you will,
It is the sound of Agidigbo
Only the wise can dance to its rhythm
None but an initiate can decipher its meaning
For its message must be cryptic, lest it be slighted
Regardless, the simple must listen
If you cannot dance to it or comprehend its message
Have you not ears?
Deadly destructive desolation follows ignoring the voice of Agidigbo
The gods are just and wise
They do not bring ruin before warning
Hence, heed the mouth piece of the gods
Lest Ogun visits your farming tools with metallic rust
And they become as brittle as dry grass
Before Oya floods your homes and marketplaces
And Sango strikes you in his fiery wrath
Before Esu bedevils you with all manners of falsehood and trickery
Agidigbo calls, the wooden drum of ancient, ageless wisdom beckons
Echoing through space and time
Like ripples on the face of an Osun tributary
Listen if you must, listen if you will
He who the gods will destroy, they first make deaf.

http://penastory.com/2015/12/07/agidigbo-bryan-oluwatimilehin/

http://penastory.com/2015/12/07/hell-is-a-place-called-home-episode-1/


She was sprawled on the sofa with her mouth gaping open like a fish out water and her hands dropping to the floor as if there was no life in her. Spittle trickled out of her mouth with the consistency a waterfall gushes water. Her snores came in broken gasp like sounds that sounded similar to that of an exhaust engine choking on smoke. She was lying with her chest on the sofa and her buttocks which shot into the air like a mountain heaved with every snore.
Three bottles of vodka and four bottles of beer lay scattered all over the floor, with the rug boasting of alcohol stains in some corner while other parts of the rug had scars from cigarette burns to tell another story.

Aisha stepped cautiously into the room and took in the scene. The twelve year old sighed resignedly as she tiptoed gingerly, trying to avoid the splinters from the broken mug shattered on the floor. She began to arrange the room methodically, humming softly under her breath. Scenes like this were no longer surprising to her. Her mother, Bukola had continued to sink deeper and deeper into the arms of alcohol and men ever since Aisha’s father left four years ago.

Aisha was eight when it happened. She came back from school that day to see her father and mother arguing in their two-roomed apartment. The argument became heated as the day went on and by evening time, her father began to beat her mother. He beat her senselessly till she fainted and then he left the house never to come back again. Perhaps if there were no neighbours to revive the fainted woman, she might have lost her life that evening. Although she didn’t lose her life, she lost another thing, her husband and father to her child. Bukola at first was worried when Kunle did not come back the next day and her worries intensified when after three days he was yet to return. She went to his place of work and that was when she was told that he had tendered his resignation. She was leaving the place with dejection when one of his friends had hinted to her that he was out of the country with a white woman he had fallen in love with. Bukola wept bitterly as her heart broke into a million pieces. Her grief was intense and one could tell she was just a mile away from the doorstep of madness.

She found comfort in alcohol and at first she would go to the bars to drink just so that little Aisha wouldn’t see her drinking but more often than not, she always came home dead drunk to meet the little girl fast asleep after being fed by concerned neighbors. Her visits to the bar drew men to her and to drown her sorrows, she fell into the arms of any of them she found attractive enough and they usually ended up with her at home. It was also another good way of making money to fend for herself and her little daughter.

Aisha on the other hand had to grow up quickly, from a runaway father to an absentee mother; the little girl realized she was all she had to survive. She began to do menial jobs like fetching water or helping to sweep for the neigbours just so they could feed her while her mother was passed out drunk or didn’t even bother to show up at home. At twelve now, Aisha was wiser than her years and she took comfort only in her education. For a long time now, she lived by the mantra that education is the passport and visa out of the country called poverty.

She turned her head as she heard her mother shift on the sofa and she watched with an alarmed expression as her mother tottered on the edge of the sofa before crashing to the floor. Aisha rushed to her side to make sure she was not injured but the drunken woman took no notice of the floor as she snored on in her sleep as if she was on the most comfortable bed in the world. Aisha hissed with disgust as she went on with her arrangement and resumed her humming.

It was not until the next morning that Bukola came to and the first thing that hit her was that she was having a pounding headache and her back also ached from her uncomfortable sleeping position on the floor. She rubbed her eyes with her hand and winced in pain as the action caused her head to feel like it was about to explode. Using the sofa as help, she managed to drag herself from the floor and go into the other room where Aisha lay fast asleep.

“Get up stupid girl,” she bellowed as she landed two heavy slaps on the sleeping girl’s back. Aisha woke up with a start and held her stinging back as she stared at her mother with sleep befuddled eyes. “Are you deaf or we are now mates that you have to count my voice before you answer me?” Bukola thundered angrily. The shout was too much for her pounding head and she winced as she felt a painful throb in her head. Aisha noticed the painful wince and quickly went to her mother “What is it mama? Are you alright?” Bukola pushed her away and replied weakly “Just get me panadol, I am having a terrible headache and you have stressed me so. When you will not wake up early in the morning like your mates, lazy girl!”

Aisha looked at her mother and sighed “But we have no money in the house mama. You used all I had saved up from scrubbing Mama Adura’s kitchen and washing her husband’s car to buy alcohol last night.”

“Shut up will you? All these nonsense talk is making my head worse. Just go to aboki Audu and tell him that I said I would pay him.”

“He has refused to give me anything on credit again. We still owe him six hundred and twenty naira.”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, you devil’s child, will you shut that your running typewriter mouth?If you argue with me again, I will send you out of this house to join your useless father. You kukuma take after him in uselessness! Shioor” With that, she stormed out of the room to go curl up on the sofa as she tried to sleep with hopes that the headache would be gone when she woke up again.

http://penastory.com/2015/12/07/hell-is-a-place-called-home-episode-1/

http://penastory.com/2015/12/05/the-chronicles-of-a-government-hooker-episode-1-18/


For the sake of this narrative, let us call me Ruby but that is not my real name I must warn you. It is simply a name I adopted when I began my journey into being an erotic expert. Many of you call us prostitutes but in truth we are not, we are simply sensual service providers.

I remember when I first started, I had just finished my secondary school education and needed money for my university admission. While it is true that most women go into our line of business because of poverty, I have to tell you that most women do it just for the fun of it. There is that thrill knowing that you have so much power of a man and you can do a lot of things to him when his dick is erect. Let me tell you all it all started. I am one of those that do it just for the fun of it because I love being a cock tease.

I had gone to my uncle’s house to inform him that I have been offered admission into the prestigious University of Lagos to study Political Science and while he talked about how proud of me he was, there was no money for him to assist me to process my admission. I was really devastated as I knew there is no way I can raise the required funds needed to process my admission. I don’t want to bore you with the unnecessary details of the many sufferings that I have had to go through with my mother so I am going to stick to just what I know you came here to read. My sex life.

I went over to a friend’s house, for the sake of this narrative again I would have to give her the fictional name of Lily. Lily was in high spirits as she said she was going to the night club for the first time that night. Some girls from University of Lagos had invited her to go clubbing with them as part of the initiation process to join their club when she resumed as fresher with them. I told Lily of my predicament and she felt sorry for me and invited me to go along with the girls to the club. According to her, they said if she was good, they might teach her how to make some money and she felt the club might do me some much needed cheering up. I am not going to pretend that I am some good girl who didn’t want to go but there was the challenge of what to wear which was quickly resolved by Lily as she called up one of the girls to inform one of the girls to inform her that she want to bring another girl along.

I remember my first outfit to the club, it was a little black dress with cut outs in the front chest region that showed peeks of my breasts. I am naturally more endowed than Lily so I fit into the cloth very well and all the other girls complimented my look. They were three in number, the one we call Shady is like the leader followed by Kiki who I must say was the pretties of the trio and then there is Lola.

I lied to my mother that I was going to be attending a vigil with one of my friends and since I have never given mother any reason to doubt me before, she didn’t object. At around 12.30am, a car came to pick us up for the outing and that is how y journey into the world of erotic services began. In my next episode I would tell you of all that went down at the club and how I became an instant star among the girls.

http://penastory.com/2015/12/05/the-chronicles-of-a-government-hooker-episode-1-18/