By Laura Ezinne Idika on 23 August, 2018
I close my eyes as I hear the sound of blaring siren, I fight the tears that burn my eyes but feel my strength betray me as I succumb and shed tears that shake me sore.
I know my fate even before it is handed down to me ,I made the decision to end my life in damnation. I mutter few words to God, I need his forgiveness. His forgiveness means more to me than the condemnation I am bound to face.
I look down at my bloody hands before scanning through the room with my bloodshot eyes. My eyes move from the dangling blood laden telephone receiver to the clothes that lie scattered on the ground to the rumpled bed sheet and then to the middle aged grumpy naked man lying beside me in a pool of his own blood.
Like a flash I go down Memory Lane . The memories are fresh, it is just like yesterday .
10 years ago my brother broke the news of my admission into the University admits joy. My dream to become an accountant was finally becoming a reality, my mother beamed with smiles, she had joy clearly written all over her face.
I started my journey to get a degree with a lot of zeal, I was determined to give my best and outshine my peers. I was very serious and dedicated to my studies, In fact I was nicknamed “Teacher nwa njokwu ” for my overzealous attitude towards my education and because I was a saving grace to my course mates as they ran to me for help when they didn’t understand certain lectures.
The University was like a battle ground, I fought to stay sane, I fought to keep my morality, I fought to stay on top of the class, I fought off Randy lecturers,i fought to survive as I only managed with the paltry sum of money my poor widowed mum could afford and sometimes did odd jobs and most importantly fought to keep my virginity intact.
The days turned into months, months turned into years and finally my time in the University was up.
My mum looked Like she would burst with pride as the vice chancellor called my name and ushered me to the podium. I was the best graduating student and had managed to bag a First Class. My name rang in all corners of the hall and I left the convocation ground with a bag full of awards.
Nysc came and went and finally i was ready to face the world , I had periodically heard lots of talks about the difficulty that came with independence and had as the day went by gathered enough momentum to surmount life’s troubles.
My mom cried like a baby as I packed my stuff, I was going to the big city to work and become an independent successful woman. Uncle Paul had talked me into leaving the east and moving to Lagos where according to him opportunities are limitless.
At the bus park,momma clung to me like she was never going to let me go, I was the apple of her eyes, it was the first time I was going to be very far away from her. We cried together, I kissed her and promised to make her happy, I told her she could visit me as soon as I was settled In and she could even live in the big city if she wanted.
She smiled lazily as I got into the bus, I knew the smile was fake, it was only to pacify me and she probably wailed in her heart. I waved momma as the bus drove off, I stared at her from the bus window until her image got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared into thin air.
Life in Lagos was tougher than I thought, I found myself gradually slipping into depression as the years rolled by.
Everyday I roamed the streets with my result tucked inside my worn out bag, my beautiful face ,loaded chest and well rounded backside made it even tougher as employers who were mostly men asked for a taste of my sumptuous lips if I wanted the job. Severally I begged, severally I tried to explain that I was chaste, morally upright and couldn’t do their biddings but severally my pleas fell on deaf ears.
Five years after graduation I couldn’t lay my hands on a good job, Uncle Paul and his wife started to get weary of me and showed It in various embarrassing ways.
My mums health started to deteriorate, she needed a huge sum of money for an operation. Every night I drenched my pillow with tears, I didn’t want my mum to die. I prayed for another opportunity ,I didn’t mind succumbing under the pressures of the employers, I made up my mind to give my virginity for the sake of a job that would help me save my mommas life.
Just as I thought of what to do, my phone beeped. It was an SMS from Greg’s ventures, I had been invited for an interview.
The Tests were easy, I scalded through the stages, I gave my best, I was optimistic I would be chosen. On the day of the final test I noticed a man staring at me, he was nicely dressed and smelt delicious. We made several eye contacts and he winked at me. I was not surprised when a young woman walked up to me and asked for my phone number, she said that her boss needed it and begged me to write it on the piece of paper she held. The woman looked like she was going to get on her knees, my number was obviously a prerequisite to keeping her job and for me to getting mine, I shook my head as I weakly scribbled my number on the paper. I was tired of restraining, tired of morality and was going to throw it all away.
Mr Gregory the CEO of Greg’s ventures called me immediately I got home, he was not a time waster and didn’t beat around the bush. He told me I had passed the interview and would resume as soon as I allowed him devour me in bed. I told him I was a virgin and begged him to spare me but it only heightened his urge for sex with me, he told me it was sex with him or nothing. He told me that I would get my appointment letter as soon as he had his way and was satisfied. He gave me the time, hotels room number and address and hung up on me.
December 3rd, is a day I would never forget. It was the day Mr Gregory asked me to come and the day momma went to be with the Lord.
My mums death came as a rude shock to me, I walked into the hotel room with tears streaming down my face.
I knocked on the door and almost immediately Mr Gregory flung the door open, the huge bulge in his pant and protruded belly made my stomach churn. The gold wedding band that adorned his finger heightened my anger. He ushered me in as he licked his lips and rubbed his palms gleefully.
He started to undress me as soon as he shut the door, he didn’t care that tears kept flowing down my cheeks..
With one thrust he had had taken my virginity, I let out a shrill cry as I watched him ride me like a horse and suffocate me with the strong stench of stale alcohol that oozed out of his ragged breath. His loud moans drowned my sobs, I could take it no more, I felt empty, I felt used, it was men like him that made my momma die.
If I had long gotten a job, I could have afforded the money for her operation.
Mr Gregory was a menace, he was a disaster that didn’t need to stay on the surface of the earth. I sighted a half full bottle of whiskey that sat on one corner of the bed ,I snatched the bottle and with all the strength left in me and a clenched teeth struck him a blow on the head.
I kept hitting him until he was dead and stabbed him with the broken bottle that also cut me in many places. The hotel room stank of our blood, it was a miracle that the hotel attendants didn’t hear the noise that we made. I crawled to the phone and with shaky hands called the police and told them I had just committed murder.
So the sound of the opening door snaps me back to reality, I sit quietly and watch as the shocked police Is graced with our naked bodies. I throw my hands in the air and spit on Mr Greg’s lifeless body as a police man covers my bloody naked body with a towel and another cuffs me.
I want the world to know that I am the killer of the animal millionaire ,I know that it won’t be long before I join my momma in heaven. A poor helpless girl killing a powerful rich CEO means death.
At least I have saved countless young girls from his animalistic claws and to me that Is an achievement better than even my First Class…
I laugh heartily and have one last look at the free people littered around and the blue sky as I am being led away . I draw one last breath of freedom as the door of the iron van I am pushed into snaps shut.
“Drops mic sways hair and catwalks away “.
©Laura Ezinne Idika.
Image: Fleance Forkuo