PRISCA'S TALES

 The evening was chilly as usual. The trees whistled as they danced back and forth to the tune of the wind. The street glowed with so much life as people went about their businesses like they were immune to the chill of the weather.

 Prisca was taking a lazy stroll down the streets of Bariga, scantily clad in a black tank top and jean bum shorts with earbuds plugged in to soulful renditions when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Aunty ,pesin dey call you” A young scruffy boy who could easily pass for a lout-because of his rough looks, pointed her attention to a car parked beside her. She had been carried away by the song she was listening to; she didn’t notice any one was calling her. Patting her braids in place, she walked slowly back to the car, curious to find out who the person was.

“Hi, where you heading to? Can I give you a ride, please?” came the cool voice. “Without knowing your name?” she replied rudely, rolling her eyes in disgust.  

“My bad! I’m Chike, what’s your pretty name?” 

 “Prisca”.

“Nice name, please can I drop you wherever your destination is, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone” his eyes pled. 

“No, I’m fine.” She replied almost immediately.

“Please nah”. As if the winds were taking sides with him, she suddenly felt cold. 

“Okay” she said, entering the car reluctantly. They soon began to chat like old time friends. Chike being the talkative that he is, led the smooth conversation.

“So what do you do? Are you a student or a worker” he asked at a point. “I am a student of Unilag and I also do part time jobs to support myself financially” she said behind closed teeth.

“Awesome! I ‘m an Estate Surveyor at Ade and Co Estate Surveyors”  “Nice..... Okay, my house is that storey building over there” she said pointing to a cream coloured 2 storey building.

“Please can I have your number?” he said as he stopped in front of the building. They exchanged numbers and bade their farewells. She waited till his car was out of sight before walking to her real house. She lived in the suburbs of Bariga with three other girls of her kind.

“Ejiro, you won’t believe what just happened to me” she said as she entered the compound. It was an over populated compound with a white rusty, fragile gate. The main building is a bungalow with 6 face me I slap you rooms and over 40 occupants in total. Thanks to the epileptic power supply, more than half of the occupants were outside in their various mats and chairs, in groups enjoying the cool natural breeze. The children played suwe and ten-ten, while the teenage youths gisted about their boyfriends and girlfriends alike.  The older women talked about their day at the market, and also gossiped about other women that lived on the street. The men argued on different topics; from football to the corruption in the government, arguing like their lives depended on it.

“Oya, come gist me nah” she replied, excited. Prisca hurried happily to the mat, which her friend and roommate – Ejiro shared with two other women. She quickly beckoned on one of the children to buy her suya while she recounts her night’s experience with Chike to Ejiro.

“Eh-eh, babe u don hammer o” came the subtly jealous reply. “Where you de meet all this correct boys self, your star bright sha” she continued. “Eji calm down jo, he never toast me well na, who knows whether he wan use and dump me like that bastard Femi”.

Her parents had separated when she was a little child. Her mother ran away from the house, out of frustration. She couldn’t cope with her husband (father’s) frivolous ways. Drunkenness followed by multiple bashing and cussing, his uncontrollable sexual desire- he sleeps with anything on skirts; the height was when he slept with the neighbour’s maid. Her guardians had to make her go through an abortion. That made him sober for a month, after that he continued in full force. The fear of STDs or something worse like AIDS made her mother pack out leaving her motherless. Within two months, he already brought in another woman as his wife; a light skinned Ibo girl who looked more of a hooker than a wife became Prisca’s step mother right away. Aunty Nneka! A vain and selfish woman. She was only good for satisfying his sexual desires and rubbing his bald head to suck his account. She treated Prisca with so much disdain and hatred the lass had no other choice than to run away from home.

The Achuwas were thrown into commotion at her disappearance, especially her father. Aunty Nneka only cared because Mr Achuwa threatened to send her away if Prisca wasn’t found.

Life on the street was hard but she cared less. Anything to stay away from that witch was her consolation when things turned hard. She survived for years nonetheless, trying to make ends meet.

It rained hard that night, that spectacular night that shaped her life forever. She was returning from her usual daily job as a help to a local akara seller. It started with lightning, ear blocking thunder ensued. It poured heavily, the kind that causes a flood if the drainage was faulty. She screamed as she ran blindly seeking for shelter. She quickly found a door, ran there for cover. She heard loud music coming from inside, people screaming and shouting. A party is on and there must be food, she thought. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of food and she realized she had barely eaten all day. She entered and to her dismay there was no food, just a bunch of teenagers, smoking, drinking and dancing. Some were at a corner disposing their intestines due to excess alcohol. The atmosphere was polluted as carbon diffused from the butt of cigars to the large stuffy room. A hand tapped her as she was about to cough. The hand felt rough, she was scared.

“Young lady, what are you looking for”? Came the harsh manly voice. “It was r-r-raining so I came for shelter “she was shivering and dripping wet. “How old are you? “He said accessing her appearance.  “ 17 sir “she said looking down.

“Honey, what’s the matter” a softer, sweet voice came from behind. They exchanged a glance and smiled. “Hey sweetie, what’s your name?” she said nicely touching Prisca’s wet body. “Oh my, you must have been out in the rain, you’re dripping, come let me tend to you”. She felt relieved for the first time in so many years she felt at home.

Mrs Nelson as she later found out was married to the man that accosted her at the club, they both owned and managed the club. There were other girls of her age that lived in the club. They are there to service men on request and Prisca was to join them. She received a cold welcome from her co-workers, she later won their hearts a few days later with her charm save Mrs Nelson. Her sweetness quickly disappeared as soon as Prisca was integrated into the business. She made the girls work, while she took all the money. They depended on tips given by satisfied clients. Life was fun-the clubbing part, the part she gets to get down with the bald headed oldies and getting paid for an excellent service. She was living the life.

She felt dizzy and lightheaded that morning. Was it last night’s activities? She thought. She quickly remembered she was weak the previous day and so her client didn’t require much of her. She tried to move, she lacked the strength to do so. Her tummy saw that and decided to motivate her; she quickly ran to the rest room to empty her stomach. She was puking when her friend and gist partner – Ejiro came into the room and saw her.

“Prissy, wetin happen” she rushed to her aid. “I no know oo, I just de vomit anyhow” came the feeble reply. “O’boy hope say u never carry belle like this, shey you and your bobo no dey use protection ni”. “What is this I’m hearing about protection” Mrs Nelson barged in, she was passing when she overheard their conversation. “Ma, prissy don dey vomit since morning, na him I ask say wetin happen” Ejiro snitched on her friend. “Oya oya, prissy get dressed, we going to the clinic now” “Yes ma!”

She was tested positive. She was pregnant. The question of who the father was is out of it. She was to abort it, order from Mr and Mrs Nelson. This was bad business to them. She didn’t want an abortion, she was scared of losing her life. With the help of her co-worker turned best friend, they escaped from the club and never looked back. They rented an apartment with the little money they had and began a new life. Life was nothing close to a bed of roses for Prisca. Her state was another disadvantage she had.  She struggled nonetheless.

The arrival of her son made her smile once again. She had already adjusted to her life as a mother-to-be. She anticipated her EDD eagerly, she was going to be a mother and a wife maybe. Her boyfriend Femi had promised to marry and take care of the child. She had told him, the pregnancy was as a result of rape.

She forced a smile at the sight of her bundle of joy. He was crying, she was smiling. She was soon discharged from the clinic. Femi took her to her house; she had insisted they lived separately till marriage. Few days after, her bundle of joy stopped breathing. She felt her wold crumble. Who did she offend? Who cursed her with short lived happiness? She thought of her family and wept more. She held on to Femi tightly as he was her only hope of happiness; and Ejiro too. Their friendship grew stronger daily.

Femi decided to make her happy by proposing to her. He planned a romantic proposal with Ejiro and warned her not to tell Prisca.

The fateful day came, it was at a beach on the island. Everything was going on as planned, the dancers he hired to dance had just finished displaying. As they were about to open their shirts to ‘WILL YOU MARRY ME?” inscribed on their shirt, a little voice interrupted. “Mummy, mummy! See daddy “a young boy of about three years old was pointing in their direction. There was an unmistakable resemblance. An angry woman dragged the boy to the scene.

” Woz going on here?” the petite mother of the child asked. She seemed patient unlike most Yoruba women “Oh, this my best friend and that’s her boyf...”a slap completed the sentence for the excited Ejiro. “Femi, you are heartless! Odaran ni e “the woman wept as if she didn’t just slap someone. “So you left your son’s birthday to propose to this trash”. 

“Eiss, who is the trash? Better leave my boyfriend o” the stunned Prisca said, clinging to Femi for support. “Young lady, dz young man you’re looking at is my hozban, we af been married for vife years, this h-is his son and this h-is my ring” she said confidently flashing her ring. Prisca fainted.

“My dear, that’s true o, I can never forget that Femi boy” Ejiro replied shaking her head. “Make we chill and see how this Chike boy go be like” she added. Prisca smiled, fixing her gaze on nothing in particular;silently praying this would be an end to her life of  short lived happiness.