You know there are certain incidents that will happen and you go, this can only happen in the movies, there's no way this is reality. Well, I experienced about two such incidents in the lives of two of my friends. But for this prompt, I'm going to be sharing a story of one of my friends that best suits the narrative.
The story is not new but the genesis of the tales that I've been sharing about my friend back then in Uni as well as her sister, who isn't really my friend but my course mate. Let's call my course mate Beatrice.
My first encounter with both girls at the admin block was quite remarkable. They had driven in a nude colour jeep with a design that is not quite common.
One glance and it's obvious that these people were coming from money. While I was busy trying to process my accomodation, I couldn't help but stare at their ride and a pot bellied, huge man who accompanied them to the admin office.
I guess what striked me the most about the man who accompanied them was the huge native wrist bead he had on, signifying that he was a chief. I heard both girls call him daddy but I later got to know that he's their uncle and a step brother to their late father. The girls never really had any motive to share their life stories until their uncle gave them a reason to.
It started with their uncle increasing the duration of their allowance from weekly to monthly basis. Let's say he was giving each of the girls $20 dollar equivalent on a weekly basis, that will amount to $80 monthly. Unfortunately, the uncle did not only resort to sending the girl's money monthly, but also slashed the monthly sum from $80 to $40. He didn't stop there, he kept reducing the sum till he became inconsistent and eventually stopped sending money to the girls. Thus, ultimately leading to him not being able to meet up with their tuition fees.
The financial incapability of the uncle caused the girls to resort to prostitution as a means of survival. On one occasion, I was with Beatrice and we were studying for our exams. I noticed that Beatrice stopped making her summary notes and was just lost in thoughts. I dropped my hand gently on her lap that was folded in a lotus position and she turned her head to stare at me.
"OMG! Are you ok? You are crying." I said out loud upon noticing the tears gathered in Beatrice eyes.
Wiping the welled up tears before it dropped, she flashed a weak smile and responded that she's fine. I knew that she was lying so I pushed further to know what the problem that's eating her up was. She seemed to be in limbo not knowing if to let me in or not but I could see that she had a lot on her mind and she really needed to let it all out. By now, she was no longer sitting in the Lotus position and we were seated facing each other. I could see that the words were not easy for her to let out so I took her hand and gently rubbed on the back of her palm assuring her that everything is ok and if it's not, it's going to be.
I kept saying it in a soft tone almost like whispers and like something in her snapped, she stood up and yelled, "no! Everything is not ok. No Ese, everything is not going to be ok."
At that point, I didn't want to do or say anything in order not to make the situation worse so I just kept quiet. An awkward silence ensued and I watched my course mate struggle to calm down. Like she let the anger out in an exhale, she drew closer and sat by me. She looked at me and then started her story with, “I blame my father.”
I still didn't give her any response, I just listened. I'm guessing that my silence gave her the push to keep talking. I listened with wrapped attention as she narrated.
“Take it from me Ese, men are ungrateful. Because my mother did so much for my dad and how did he repay her? He sent her packing when he became rich and accused her of being a lesbian and adulterous.
A woman who stuck by him when he had nothing, a woman who rallied round to gather money for his release when they just started with life by selling bunkery (illegal sale of crude oil byproducts).
You know, my mom was heavily pregnant with me but that didn't stop her from engaging in such risky business with my dad. Even when my father's siblings abandoned him to die in police custody, my mother alone fought for his release.”
Beatrice paused a bit to sob quietly and let out all the accumulated pain and anger via tears.
After freeing up herself a bit, she continued with her story.
“You know it's funny, when they slept on the floor in their one room apartment, my mother wasn't a lesbian then. But she became a lesbian when he accumulated so much wealth and became a chief.
I mean, where was my step mother when my mother was sticking out her neck for my father? Where was she when my father was dead poor and couldn't even afford his rent?”
Kissing her teeth, she continued.
“My father was a very stupid man. Do you know that my mother finally gave him the son that he had always wanted? But then he turned around and he claimed that my brother wasn't his. He went on to accuse my mother of cheating and My father's neglect, led to the demise of my brother who would have been his only son.
He drove my mother away and she couldn't bear the shame so she died, from depression and thinking. When we lost our mom, we were children, barely 10 years old. And to think that ok, we still have him as our dad and then there's his new wife, our step mom. We were coming to terms with our new life and family then my father fell ill and died.
Two years later, my step mother followed and it was my step mother's death that made us realise that both her and my father died of the HIV virus. A disease my step mother infected my father with as hers was full blown AIDS.”
Packing her books back into her bag signifying the end of the study session for her, she concluded
“You know, sometimes I wished that my father had remained poor. Because where's all that wealth? His children can't even enjoy it.”
By the time Beatrice ended her story, even I was in tears and couldn't find the right words to console her with.
I had to check if your story was fiction or not! That's a terrible story those girls had to live through. I can imagine your chagrin when you heard the story. I too would have cried and been speechless. Impossible to believe the evil in the world. Greetings
Fortunately the girls fought and they are doing really well now 🙂. Thank you for coming through 🙏🏿
At first I thought this was a fiction but unfortunately, it's not. Beatrice went through a lot, the narrative in her voice says it all. I guess this is what traumatic family experiences brings forth.
I do hope she finds her path in life.
Yes, she and her sisters are doing so well now. She even has her own family and is a mom of 4.
Your study partner's experience is very sad. There are real stories that can easily become a novel of sadness and pain, far surpassing fiction.
Thanks for sharing.
Excellent day.
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-We do not accept stories about prostitution (particularly child prostitution)
Ok, noted.