A short story after so long.
I’m thinking some folks will be able to tell me who inspired this story after reading it.
If you call Rosie a loose woman, it’s only because you don’t understand what girls like her contend with. Sometimes, a girl does not have a choice. The times are hard and the people are even harder. A girl has to do what she has to do to survive. She won’t sleep under a bridge, clothes have to be worn and the stomach has to be appeased. How then can she be blamed for using her endowments to get what she wants?
It wasn’t that Rosie was not capable of doing any other thing. She believed she could do so many things. After all, she was born to hard working civil servants. People who although were always broke by the middle of every month, managed to educate her and her four siblings up to university level. She studied Chemistry and graduated with honors in a university that still managed to be one of the top hundred in Africa despite the fact that they were underfunded and their lecturers were always on strike for one thing or the other.
She could work under pressure. She was smart, intelligent, an asset to any organization. At least that was what she told herself and that was what she put on her CV.
After a year of applying for jobs without being called for any interview, she decided it was time to leave Lagos for Abuja. Her dad would have none of it but she managed to convince her parents she would be fine. She had been reliably informed that Abuja was the place for her.
“You have what they need here.”Felicia ; her best friend in university, had told her.
Rosie didn’t need much convincing, Felicia was doing fine. Her skin radiated “good living”. She drove a good car. She traveled every abroad every other day. Whatever Felicia was doing she could too or even better. She always had the upper hand over Rosemary in the university.
By the time she had spent three months in Abuja, she was certain it was the place for her. She wondered why she hadn’t realized that earlier. In Abuja, she had something that was always in demand; her body. It was one gift most people saw and appreciated.
Rosie needed no coaching in pleasing a man; she had been doing it since she was seventeen. With ten years of experience behind her, she was ready for whatever it entailed. You could call it prostitution but to Rosie it was simply a means of survival or as Felicia would call it, transaction.
What was the point in being prudish? She had never been that, not even in university. On rare days when a passing comment about loose girls got to her, she would shrug it off reminding herself that so many girls did it for free. She had been that type of girl once; giving it to her boyfriend, morning, afternoon and night free of charge save for the lone Rose that came every Valentine and the six pack of Vitamilk that came on her birthdays.
Rosie was blessed with a mother that understands. Unlike the ignorant mothers who would pester their daughters for a son in law and grandchildren, she empathized when Rosie told her why it wasn’t happening.
“The guys of these days are so irresponsible.” she told her mum. “They don’t want to lift a finger. All they want is a woman who would bring in money while they drive her car all around town, sampling every new joint. I need to take my time.”
Rosie always knew she could do better than Felicia. She had a certain hunger that the latter lacked. Felicia was the kind of girl who believed being comfortable was enough. Rosie wanted more. She saw the powerful women that ruled Abuja and wanted to be like them. She was patient, however and kept doing the “meet a rich man- make small talk – go to his hotel room- give a good head or a some good rounds of sex- collect the money- never see him again” until the day her luck changed. It was the day she met Funny Kay.
He was rich, witty, rude, stupid, spoilt and also randy. Not that Rosie cared. With Funny Kay, she knew she could have whatever she desired and so she played her game well. The money, jewelries and trips abroad were just the icing. The cake itself was what she wanted and so she inserted herself into his flesh. He liked sex – the not so regular type. The type that most ladies will decline but she gave him lots of it; the way he wanted it and even more than he expected. Funny Kay was not exactly in the corridor of power when she met him but at least he was in the compound. He was the special adviser to the special adviser to the president on something she never could remember.
By the time she had dated him for six months, she was able to move out of Felicia’s flat. She got her own apartment in Apo legislative quarters and also got a job as the personal assistant to a Minister.
Being a personal assistant to a powerful Minister provided Rosie with a lot of opportunities which she didn’t waste. She started withdrawing from Funny Kay when the big fishes started coming around – not that he cared. He didn’t like to date a woman for too long; she only lasted so long because she gave him what he wanted.
These days the people she slept with are those who Funny Kay look up to. She occasionally allowed him to have sex with her. She wouldn’t know why if you asked her. He was still as stupid, depraved and annoying as ever but maybe that was part of the attraction after all. She was all of that too.
The day Funny Kay granted an interview and alluded that they had been intimate, she had not been offended. She had felt nothing, just amusement that he was always going to be stupid. Felicia who had been in her house when she opened the link to the interview had been annoyed. She suggested Rosie should make a press release.
“You are a big woman now, Rosie. I know you still want to be a senator and by God’s grace a deputy governor in the nearest future. You can’t allow that idiot to drag your name in the mud. You must do a press release.”
Rosie had laughed telling Felicia it was nothing.
“What is there to be annoyed about Felicia?” she asked removing a packet of Kilishi from her bag.
“In Nigeria, any publicity is beneficial, whether good or bad. At least now everyone knows who Rosie is.”
“Rosie, I don’t think you understand my point.” Felicia insisted. “See tomorrow, one person somewhere that is your political opponent will use this kind of information against you.”
“Forget it Felicia. That is not even a problem. How many politicians have been affected by their dirty past in Nigeria? In this country that even an ex convict can get a political appointment. Leave matter for Matthias jare. Besides, any woman dey wey no be prostitute? Don’t we all sleep with men in exchange for something? At least I
didn’t do it for nothing. Isn’t that what matters?”
Felicia was lost in reverie for what seemed like forever. Rosie would be fine, she was sure of that. Her friend was a fighter, a go getter.
“You are right.” she agreed, nodding her head.
Photo Credit: Google image