As the term wore on, I became his Saturday night regular and when I graduated and went to university, he put me up in a flat. Then I effectively became his property. I drove a brand new Honda and wore the finest clothes. Unfortunately the honeymoon came to an end after some time when his wife accosted me one day with some thugs. They gave me a thorough beating and took the Honda, and she warned me to get out of Chief’s life. I was in the hospital for 7 days, and though he paid the bill, he didn’t even come to see me. I was devastated. No-one told me before I went and packed my things out of that flat and figured my next move. Fortunately I had already been working on a plan B. I had also met this older man who worked for the US embassy, after a hot and heavy session at a hotel, he had an attack of conscience and decided he wanted to save me from myself. He had promised to help me arrange for a US student visa, and help me get into a school, so I could change my life. At the time I wasn’t particularly moved by his request, but after the Chief fiasco, I took him up on it in a hurry.
Since then I have managed to work myself into the system here and find some relative success. I declared I was done with sugar daddies after that experience and I planned to make my own way, but I guess I have gotten used to the finer things in life, and so when I marry I don’t see anything wrong in marrying up. I mean it’s not like I plan on using the guy or anything, I do plan on loving him too.
There is just something about successful men that turns me on. Especially men like Dele. I mean he has the finesse and the wealth, not to mention that the bobo is fine! The phone started ringing, just when I was about to start daydreaming about Dele and I walking off into the sunset. I hoped it was Madam calling to say she was ready to make an offer on one of the houses.
“Hello,” I said sweetly into the phone.
“Titi?” A gruff voice that I knew all too well barked into my ear.
“Yes,” I replied, putting some distance in my voice.
“Why are you acting like you don’t know who this is?”
“Segun?” I pretended to be interested.
“Ehen, who else will it be, or are you seeing any other guys?”
“I beg sweetheart, give me a break, after you I no go fit.”
“You know it.”
Segun was one of the guys that helped me get on my feet when I first moved to the States. He is a flashy guy who has no visible source of income but lives incredibly large, drives a nice car, spends a lot of money (in fact most of the designer bags in my closet are gifts from him) but doesn’t work. I won’t lie; Segun is the kind of guy that does deals. Shady, dirty 419 type deals. Credit card fraud, bank check fraud you name it and he’s into it. When I first came, I needed so much help, I didn’t much care where it came from. He saw me and desired me, so we both got our needs met. I was his girl and he took care of me. He bought me my BMW, cash down, he gave me a substantial down payment for my condo. To be honest he financed the life I’m living.
The problem is that now that I am trying to upgrade to a different class of men, the bobo won’t leave me alone. I haven’t accepted a gift from him in at least a year, well if you ignore the diamond earrings and necklace he gave me for Christmas, I couldn’t resist, plus I knew I was going to the gala and I needed those pieces to complete my look. So what if it cost me a rough ride in bed? Yes, Segun is one of those guys that likes everything rough. I have never enjoyed sex with him. He is all about the blow job and hitting it from way back. Heck I think he’s a closet homosexual. I have tried to shake him but I have to be careful about it. Last year, I tried to break things off with him and he stalked out of the house. The next night I was opening the door on my way out, and he showed up out of nowhere, pushed me in and held a knife to my throat. His eyes were red and he looked crazed, or high actually. “Bitch, you don’t leave me till I am done with you.” Oh boy after that, I didn’t quite know what to do but I knew I had to tread carefully.
Fortunately he is only ever around for short stints, then he has to go underground again. So I might not hear from him for months when he’s gone and his time with me usually lasts about a couple of weeks. He is definitely a chapter in my life I wish I knew how to close.
“So what are you doing?” he asked.
“Taking a bath.” “Good, because I like you fresh and clean.”
“Come and open the front door for me, I’m outside.”
“Alright, give me a minute to get dressed.”
“No, come just the way you are, dripping and everything!”
“Segun, it’s cold, I don’t want to get sick.”
“Titi, don’t let me wait out here one extra minute,” he barked.
“Ok, ok, I’m coming.”
Oh shit. It’s going to be a long hard night.
As for my father, the man had like 5 or 6 wives and countless children, and I was so far down the food chain. You see, my mum wasn’t even his legal wife, more like his concubine and I am her only child. When my mum died while I was in secondary school, I approached him for help with just the small school fees that Queen’s Academy was asking for. He claimed he didn’t know me and his wives chased me out of the compound with a broom. Afterwards he sent his driver to school with N200 for me. That couldn’t pay even half of my school fees and besides I’m sure the man spent more on beer. Anyway sha, I took the money, there is no shame when you are hungry. Thanks to my friend Chichi, I figured out a way to pay for my school fees and much more. My dears, thank God for Chichi. At Queens Academy there were girls like Mina, who incidentally didn’t really talk to me back then, who supposedly came from rich families and walked around with their noses in the air. And then there were the regular girls like myself and Chichi, trying to make a dollar out of 15 kobo. Actually there was a third group, the studious, dry ones, but who wants to hear about them.
Chichi was one of those girls in school that mothers called wild. At sixteen she had one of those attack and defense bodies. Decent sized boobs, small waist but an amazingly large ass. I am telling you, as she walked by in her school uniform you could see our male teachers lusting after her as they focused on the jiggle of her backside. And the girl used it to her advantage. I am not saying that she slept with any of our teachers, all I know is that she always got high marks in the subjects taught by men.
Another day, another dollar
I swear if I show another house to this my ‘come today, come tomorrow’ couple, I will just scream. The man feels his level is around $300k, but the woman keeps making us see homes in the $500k range. But I even show them houses in the $600k range. I am no fool, I have noted the wife’s Vuitton purse and Cartier watch, while the hubby is in Dockers and citizen. The kicker is that she’s a stay at home wife O! I tell you, monkey dey work, baboon dey chop. Anyway, I have seen their pre-qualification papers and the guy makes fairly decent money and has great credit, so they can probably do around $700k in a pinch. Naturally the woman wants to live around the black gold coast in South Dekalb area. I showed them some of the decent subdivisions, like Water’s Edge and such, but Madam wanted to see the more moneyed places like GreenRidge and even million dollar haunts like Sandstone and Belair estates. What’s my own? Ask me and I will show you because the way I see it, this woman is going to force her hubby into a high priced home and cars and lifestyle, so while they qualify today, they’ll probably be facing foreclosure tomorrow, but that’s not my business, I’ll still get my commission check so I’m totally with the wife. In fact today I showed them the ritzy Thurgood Estates subdivision. Starting from the $800’s in Ellenwood, it was right up Madam’s alley. She could just picture herself in the houses with the marble floors and the media room. She even asked the onsite realtor if they could put in swimming pools, I swear her husband farted in shock and boy was it a stinker!
It was definitely one of those days and I’m just glad to finally be home and soaking myself in my garden tub. It’s on days like this that I appreciate my condo. Sure it’s not a ritzy 6000sq ft mansion, but it’s cozy and comfortable for me. Sure one day, with the right man, I too will be pushing a loaded Range Rover while I ferry my kids to private school, and maybe I’ll work for the fun of it, but until that time, I no dey craze, I work hard, and keep a little money away for emergencies. I don’t play with money. I have no intention of being poor. I know what poverty is. My mother used to sell roasted corn and groundnut on the streets back home in Nigeria. Fortunately I was pretty smart so I managed to get into the prestigious Queens Academy for secondary school, which is where I met Mina, although even she doesn’t know that my mum used to sell local snacks on the side of the road. She thinks my mum was a business woman. Ok that’s what I told her. It wasn’t a lie! After all, selling roasted corn no be business?