When you do something wrong for the first time, people make excuses for you. Maybe you were ignorant, perhaps naive, or just plain stupid. When you repeat the same thing a second time, they look at you like the nuts in your brain are loose. But then when you do it for the third time, a fourth , a fifth… More than ten times, they accept that you’ve made your choice. A decision to keep doing the wrong thing over and over again.
That’s how I feel.
Even though I’ve filed this feeling away to the part of my mind that I don’t usually visit, I occasionally run in, dust this feeling off the shelf and wear it like a dress. It kills me when I think about the choices I’ve made. I’ve lost count of the number of men I’ve shagged. And for what? 💰
If you had told me at age six, that I’d grow up to be a p**sy bag for all sorts of men, I would have screamed so loud till everything made of glass: mirrors, window louvers, windshield and cups shatters and fall on your head, leaving you dangerously injured.
Phew! Enough of this pity party.
when I first joined the M girls. ( That’s what we call ourselves in this biz. M means money. So money girls.) The boss Lady DDG( drop dead gorgeous) handed me a set of rules. Not verbal rules. I’m talking typed, binded ,documented rules. This must be some organized Charlie’s angel shit.
The M girl play book
- 15% of paycheck goes to lady DDG.
2. If you want to quit ,do so. Never discuss personal regrets or any emotional turmoil about the job with other members.
3. Always use protection.
4. Ogbeni Use your head.
Rule number four cracked me up real hard 🤣 when I read it. For a minute it made me forget what I was getting myself into. Nevertheless, as funny as the rule is, it’s true. In this line of business there are risks. Just like any other business out there.
First, you could be blood sacrifice for ritualist. Could be a play thing for a serial killer. The condom might burst open during intense activity and boom you’re at risk of STD, who knows even pregnancy. It’s not like the latex they use for making condoms in this country is even strong.🙄 An angry house wife might trace her husband (if he’s a client) to you and pour acid on you, or do worse. So that’s why when we give our ratings, we do so with all the potential risk in mind, and we bill without mercy. Luckily, these men pay without delay.
As the cash came in, I sorted out debts from school, sorted my mum and finally gave her a huge sum to start a business: a fabric retail business. As I earned more money, I lied to my mum that I got a promotion at work. Once the money seemed too big for a sales girl to make, I told her a friend of mine got me a new job as a personal assistant to a very big woman. #useyourheadplease
So you know I’ve always been a small girl with big dreams. I got me two landed properties, and had an architect draw me a plan, and project build an event centre kicked on. The event centre will be for hire for wedding receptions, conferences and so on. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to build in the second property, so I had it fenced and leased to farmers and who were willing to pay for a lease.
Even though I was making over a million in a month, sleeping around with men was becoming a tiring routine. I had mastered the art of letting my clients do me as they please, without being fully involved. I know the moves to make and the things to say to them to give them the feel that I’m so into them.🙄 Even though most times I feel like a silicon dull with rechargable batteries. I’m there but not present. Of course the bastards don’t give two freaking shits. They just want their money’s worth. That’s what I’m in for any way. But sometimes to be honest, I think of falling in love. Do I even have a chance at love? 🙄🥺
As if the universe heard my tiny whispers of loneliness and longing for love, she sent me a parcel: the most amazing human. Emeka.
Emeka slid into the Dms on IG and asked that we hang out. I CHECKED HIM OUT. Bruh. That boy is foiine. After I confirmed that he stays in Enugu just like me, I gave a resounding yes. Location is important please, I’m not about to dive into long distance anything.
We vibed physically, mentally, spiritually, socially and of course financially. Gosh the vibe was on a deep level. I’ve never met someone that gets me with ease, and someone that makes me feel beautiful even when I feel out of sorts. This boy is a keeper. Krrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Emeka made me see life the way I had never seen before. I think that what happens when you’re in love, you get sucked into a bubble of joy and peace and all your problems suddenly feels like light weight. My Emmy. You’re turning my head like a ferris wheel. ❤️🥰
I wish I could say that me and Emmy eloped into an alternate universe where bad belly people didn’t exist. Perhaps we could have gotten married and lived happily ever after. But Nah. Things didn’t exactly work out that way. The point is I f***Ed up. Bigtime.
You know how I said I had a lofty dream to do a business MBA in Harvard. I wanted to make it happen quickly. Dating Emmy, made me toss business aside for a while. I mean I had a boyfriend now duh! Plus I had money coming in from my event centre and all. For some weird reason, I felt like I should do biz one last time and get one bulk money for Harvard, rather than spend money from the event centre. Haa it’s always the one last time that gets you in trouble.😭😭
Unknown to be, Emmy has been hearing rumours about my escapades, so dude set a trap for me. This was easy because I never discussed my relationship with the M girls, so they didn’t know I was dating him or what he looked like. He called the M girls, booked for a night and specifically asked that he wanted me to be his server. Unfortunately for me, it was around the time I had decided to go one last time.
I can’t bring myself to narrate what happened that night. But I guess you’re smart enough to have figured how it went down.
Me and Emmy went out separate ways. It hurt like someone had forced me to lie on a bed of hot coals. It even hurt more because it was my fault. My greed. My choices. My decision. My lifestyle.
Breaking up made me realize how far gone I was. Being a runs girl stole from me. It stole my dignity. My ability to trust God. My willingness to be patient and use my creativity to make a living for myself. Also it made me a pain point for others. I slept with people’s boyfriends, husbands and fathers. And I didn’t care. My excuse was that they came to me. I’m such a mess.
God I’m sorry.
I don’t even know how to journey back to the innocent young girl I used to be. But One thing is for sure.
I’m never selling my body for money ever again.