Mr Johnson turned out to be another cheating, lying bastard. We parted ways that day without him being able to answer the poser I threw at him. But nothing forewarned me of what was to come. The following day I left Alagomeji, Yaba for Mr Johnson’s office on 44, Sunmola Street, Mende, Maryland. The first shock was that a lady was sitting on my desk.
“Good morning,” I greeted her.
“Morning,” she said, looking at me with disdain.
She looked 25, was wearing a pink T-shirt and black jeans skirt and her feet were decorated with a brown louvres pair of shoes.
“Who are you?”
She looked at me and started laughing.
“I should be asking you that question.”
I looked at the office again as though to confirm if I had entered a wrong address.
“Well, my name is Oluwakemi Dare…”
“Oh, you are the one,” she said and before I could ask her what she meant by that, she opened what used to be my drawer and brought out a letter.
“This is for you, Mr Johnson said I should give it to you when you come.”
My legs began to wobble. Even without opening the letter, I felt I had been sacked unceremoniously. I fished out my phone and dialled Mr Johnson’s number. It rang several times without him picking the call. By the time I looked at my former seat, I discovered the girl had vanished. I left the building and went back home. My father had left for work and I was alone in our three-bedroom bungalow.
After some minutes, I summoned the courage to read the letter:
When we met, I thought I had met a good girl, a girl I could assist to become something in life, a girl with virtue, a girl with dignity, a girl with integrity but in so short a time, you have proved me wrong, and big time, too. If I say I am disappointed, it will be an understatement. I never wish to see you again and if you think you can dump on me what I have absolutely nothing to do with, I will show you and if you think your uncle, who introduced you to me can work out something in your favour, you have to think again. I run the street and I will run you out of the street if you do not sort out yourself and let me be.
I sank to the floor, tears staining my make-up and forming a ring on the grey rug in my room. What had I got myself into? What will my father do? How do I get out of this disaster I have put myself? Questions crowded my mind and my head started arching. I had no friend to call. My mother, God bless her soul, encouraged me to stop keeping friends after Patience, a girl I considered my best friend, almost set me up with a rapist while I was in SSS 3. Patience had asked me to accompany her to a place in Ikeja. It turned out to be a two-bed apartment on a cul-de-sac. Minutes after we got there Patience and a guy who looked in his early thirties started smooching. The way Patience was marrying her lip with his was irritating to me. How could she be licking his saliva? I was disappointed in her, but before I could open my mouth to complain about the inappropriateness of what they were doing, another guy came out from one of the two rooms. He would have been naked if he were not wearing boxers that clearly outlined his penis and showed that he had a boner. I quickly averted my eyes when I saw that his dick threatening to tear the boxers. By the time I looked at the position where Patience and his boyfriend were, the seat was empty. I did not need to wait for an answer because severe moaning soon started oozing out of a room. Patience and her man were obviously taking it to another level already. I wondered if they had started fucking and I regretted being a witness to such obscenity.
I stood up, prepared to leave without informing Patience. The door was locked when I got there and the key was not there for me to unlock it. I had no choice but to look at the guy who came out of the room. He was now sitting on the couch beside the one where Patience and her man were necking and petting.
“I want to take my leave,” I told him.
But instead of answering me, he slipped out of his boxers. His long dick breathed in and out. I covered my eyes after a few second of shock. He did not give me any room before lounging at him.
“Help, help, help,” I started screaming.
Instead of help, what came out of the room where Patience and her man were was: “jerk it very well”. It was clearly Patience’s voice. The two of them were dead to my world, they were in a world of their own, where bliss had made them insane. The guy grabbed my brown check school uniform and tore the chest area, exposing my bosom. But just then, we heard the sound of someone trying to open the door with a key from outside. The guy abandoned me and ran inside. A lady came in. She was wearing an adire blouse and skirt.
“What is going on here?”
“He was trying to rape me.”
“He is inside,” I said, pointing at the room he disappeared into.
She dashed into the room and dragged out the guy.
“Don’t mind her,” he said, averting eye contact with neither of us. Shame was written all over him.
It turned out she was his girlfriend. Patience’s man was only visiting. After I explained how I got there, she stormed the room and pursued Patience and her man out. They managed to quickly put on their clothes. They were both sweating.
We left there and I told my mother everything and following her advice, I never took anyone as friend again. I only had classmates and related with them as such. But, this was a time I needed a friend.
When my father came back in the evening, I told him I had been sacked. In his typical lackadaisical attitude, he did not bother to probe; at that instant, I missed my mother, who would have been sympathetic. She died of breast cancer when I turned twenty. My father just said “When one door closes, another opens” and went into his room. I cried all through the night.
The next morning, my father left for work without asking how I was doing. I never saw him again.
To be continued