Chapter two
Five years later after attempting to steal the laptop. The sky was milky and the uneven ground was brighter but the harmattan season was particularly harsh. Everything seemed bleak. The dry sandy air seemed to be an additional torment, delighting in covering the body with layers of the Sahara Desert’s fine dust, blown in from hundreds of miles away. Obinna paced up and down in front of his parked Toyota Avensis. He looked at his golden wrist watch. It was 8 O’clock in the morning. He stood staring at his magnificent house with satisfaction. With the air so clean and crisp, the earth so fragrant, he felt like the only man on earth. His countenance now was that of joy, which his brilliant modesties had not craft enough to colour. It was his twenty-fourth birthday celebration. A day he had vowed to burn the candle at both ends. He was already hallucinating aggressively to see the evening in order to appease his corneous appetite.
The evening is here. Boldly inscribed on the black gate is: ‘Aids is real, play safe’ and this is undersigned: “THE YOUTH OF HONOUR”. What an irony! This gate leads to one of the dingy neighborhoods of Lagos where men, fat rats, roaches and bed bugs cohabit. It is a place where black, smelly water spills into the streets from brimming gutters when it rains and where naked children romp in the day, oblivious of the filth around them.
The place is an enclave of sort for some alcoholic loafers who wake everyday to eat, drink, play Lagos Lotto and make merry. In the night, it is also a hangout where nubile young girls stand half nude by the road sides to hawk sex at low costs; where men of unruly libido meet women of inordinate sexual cravings. It is reminiscent of biblical Sodom and Gomorrah. A centre of sin where no pure person passes through undefiled.
Welcome to “Empire,” one of the numerous sex markets in the city of Lagos. Here, life is lived at its most worthless. But it is more about survival than choice. It is also about the failure of various institutions in Nigeria. This lovely evening, Empire looks like a small shanty town. Small sheds for food, cheap liquor, cigarettes and “weeds” dot the roadsides. Young men with burnt finger tips crowd at the sheds smoking hemp and downing spirits recklessly. The revolutionary renditions of legends like Bob Marley and Fela oozing from a C.D player nearby help set the mood or so it appears. Far from the black gate entrance comes also the music of Don Moen and a collage of other gospel music. But no one pays attention to the religious melody here. The boys play Lotto even as the revel continues, and occasionally sing along with the music box. Often, they launch into hot arguments on trivia. Topics like: who is a better football player, Messi or C. Ronaldo? Who sings better between Fela and Bob Marley? There were some young men in a corner who were playing football with improvised goal-posts. They were reed-thin, with skulls capped with wiry rust-coloured tufts of hairs and bodies centered on protuberant stomachs.
There is much sound and fury now, signifying nothing. But no one seems disturbed by the regular nuisance of the boisterous youths. At one corner of a stall, a few elderly fellows are sipping paraga, local cheap whisky. They all bear the same features: yolk-yellow eyeballs, puffy checks, decaying teeth; the relics of their old selves, a result of several years of indulgence. Yet they appear cheery even in their degenerate state. Past their prime, these men can no longer give lustful pleasure to women, not even the fallen angels of Empire. Now, a lurid joke is the pastime of this old gang. Sitting there on a broken bench they do not mind the noisome bunch of youths around them, they are mere reminders of their own heydays.
At Empire, girls are bat-like. They don’t walk the streets in daylight, except to buy food and cigarettes. Then you could see a bare-bottom bimbo stroll towards ‘Mama-put’ shop, get her order and go back to her shack. Her prancing might not even win a leer from the boys in the hood. They have seen it all. Generally, it is a quiet community during the day. But the mood of the place changes at nightfall into something of a street party with music blaring from every corner, each side of the roads lined by girls of various shapes and sizes. Young attractive girls, dressed up with the intention to lure buyers. In this business, looking sexy is it. They all look ravishing and smell like mobile perfume shops. But some are more aggressive than others in their marketing. The more daring ones would hold your hands and throw some endearments at you even as you walk past.
“Sweetheart, come here,” “Honey pie, look here;” “Hi handsome.” Some would even invite you to touch their breasts to feel the firmness. Those with sagging breasts try hard to do a push-up with iron-cast bra. Some succeed. But experienced eyes can identify the firm from the fallen.
It is tucked in between Yaba-Ojuelegba and Surulere-Mushin. It is the same place where the late Abami Eda, Fela Anikulapo reigned and ruled before he relocated to the new shrine in Ikeja. Here, whoever tarries long enough to listen to the sales talk of these Empire girls could forget all moral lessons in the Holy books and follow Adam to gobble the apple.
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Obinna drove into the Empire in his Lexus Jeep. He is a rich lover boy who has an unusual skill and knack for making money and for ‘hooking’ ladies. He is tall, chubby and with a cool and charming disposition. No girl could escape his sugar-coated tongue. He knew what ladies want and would give them without mincing words. He is also a damn good liar. No woman could escape from his lecherous and amorous moves. No woman could beat his wits in matters of love and romance. His Achilles heel is women. He could kill or betray his blood sister or closest friend because of them. There was no denying the fact that he was once a philanderer of the highest order. He simply loves anything in skirt. He was so wayward and debauched that he confessed to his close pal Tony, one day: ‘I can die because of Lagos girls! Take it or Leave it guy, I came through that ‘route’ and wouldn’t mind if I join my Maker through the same route’.
As Obinna was about to alight from his Jeep, he saw a light-skinned young beauty and was overwhelmed by her celestial beauty. The girl was heading for the eatery in Empire. She had a figure and gait that could tempt even Monks to do the unthinkable. She wore a skimpy dress that made her look irresistible and enchanting and her steps were calculated and mesmerizing. Truly the girl was charming from head to toe. He was consumed by admiration; he had never seen such a raving beauty in his entire life. To further accentuate her sexual allure, the girl had tiny blue beads around her waists.
“Oh my…my goodness…!” he exclaimed smacking his lips. Hello, angel, just give me your love and I will make you happy with millions! What’s your name Angel?”
“I’m Angela!!” she said softly, smiling and showing her white set of teeth.
“Angela! Angela!!” he repeated excitedly. I thought as much. You know, I called you Angel. Remove the last ‘A’ and your name becomes Angel. If I were a prophet, my preditions would always come true.
Obina: I like to catch some fun with you tonight, how much will it cost me?
Angela: How much you wan give me?
Obinna: How much you wan take, you no get a regular price?
Angela: No regular price o, any amount wey you and the person talk.
Obinna: You go do night?
Angela: Where?
Obinna: Ikeja.
Angela: Ah! That’s far o. E far please pay twenty thousand.
Obinna: Twenty K…Just like that?
Angela: Yes now o, you know where you wan take me to naw?
Obinna: But I go carry you in my car.
Angela: I know.
Obinna: So talk, how much be your last price?
Angela: Ok, give me fifteen thousand.
Obinna: No, I de think of ten.
Angela: You know within go happen, I no want make we talk too much, give me twelve.
Obinna: I go give ten.
Angela: Na twelve
Obinna: Ok, make you wait for me where the car dey. I dey come.
He left her in search of more daughters of fun and accosted Sandra who looked elderly and friendlier and so was her price. She was willing to take five thousand naira to “do night”, but she would not follow any man to spend the night outside Empire. “Lagos is risky” she says. She promised a rewarding night any day if he is willing to “do it around”. While the conversation was going on, no curious eyes strayed towards their direction. No querying stare. Everyone appeared to be minding his or her own business. Some men were enjoying some suya with beer at a bar nearby. Some clustered around a TV set, feasting eyes on the ongoing UEFA Champions league final match between Barcelona and Juventus. A number of Empire girls were swaying to D-banj music on the roadside. Some could be seen negotiating prices, after which they would disappear into a small room to eat the forbidden fruit.
As he was speaking with Sandra, he noticed a particular beautiful girl walk into a bar nearby. As the girl settled down, an old man engaged her. They chatted about five minutes and the old man left in anger. It looked as if she only came to unwind but there was something unusual about her. She was not dancing, only busy taking pictures, staring at others and pressing her BB touch phone. And again, she was laughing and talking with a bar lady in a way that showed that it was not her first time at the club. Obinna met with the bar lady and asked about her. It was a straight reply: “Her name is Emilia; do you want her for the night?” He agreed with the bar lady to pay the sum of seven thousand naira. The bar lady had initially refused, insisting that it is ten K, but he said all he got is seven thousand naira. She asked for a minute, moved aside and returned with the good news. Emilia was finally here. When Obinna asked what she came to do because she looked very refined. She explained that she came to see the owner of the hotel who was her friend but after the bar lady mounted pressure on her; she was willing to do a short time. She gave a smirk and continued, “You know, I’m a kind of nymphomaniac. I’m only interested in the pleasure. I don’t care how little the money is that you can provide, inasmuch as I am satisfied.” “But…How do you take care of yourself? I know you understand what I’m talking about?” Obinna asked hiding his surprise.
“The real money comes from the offices of top government’s officials. But the problem is that, they only ask one to do all sort of things to satisfy them. They hardly do the “real thing”! But you can’t trust those dogs. Honestly, those guys really taught us a lesson last week. Imagine…I went for boat cruising with two female friends to have some fun with some married government officials last week. I mean the top guys in power! Unknown to us, the drinks were drugged and we completely lost consciousness. These guys slept with us and even took photographs of the goings-on. Although none of us died, I’m sure it was a bitter experience”. Emilia concluded almost in tears.
“It’s Okay. I’m sorry about that. Fun is sometimes produced by pain.” Obinna admonished with obvious empathy and continued, “Why didn’t the old guy with you some minutes ago take you home?”
She replied; “Don’t mind him; he was just telling me how he would snatch me from my boyfriend. He no get power for bed. I am doing this mainly for the pleasure. I’m not a prostitute. Prostitutes are cheap roadside hawkers!”
As Obinna and Emilia were cutting steps towards his car, Obinna was busy pouring some beer into his insatiable stomach. He could drink urine if cocked in a bottle. He was always soused in whisky and rum daily. Sometimes after bouts of drinking and getting high, he would beat the living daylights out of his girlfriends. Just almost where his car was parked he sighted Pamela; a twenty year-old student of the University of Lagos. Pamela is a novice in the job. She just wants to be like her colleagues, use I-phones, latest Black Berry phones and what have you. These are luxuries her poor parents cannot afford for her.
“Hi…small baby girl! Can you come with me? I like it small sometimes…you know,” he snapped.
“Okay, it depends on your pocket. How much do you have?” Pamela asked displaying her plump side.
“Money is not the problem if you make me happy,” he responded.
Only one, neck-deep into the playboy culture could have made three beautiful catches in less than thirty minutes. He had flung the doors of the jeep open and they were hopping in. The sweet fragrance of their perfume had filled the car and Obinna had the urge to push his nose in their cleavage and sniff some more. Even the playboys around were mesmerized as they wondered where he will get the raw energy to satisfy the appetites of such a number of ladies. But with women, you can’t beat him. He was already driving to a friend’s sprawling duplex at Ikeja.
Obinna was now right inside the living room- with his three new ‘catch’, not minding the fact that they were total strangers. When it came to romance, he had no moral scruples and would take the plunge without hesitation. He was about to begin the romance maze. He quickly took off his designer shirt and trousers, leaving only his shorts. The girls were all sitting on a long Italian leather couch. He laid his head on the soft thigh of Angela and stretched out his legs on the thighs of another. The third girl was busy massaging his bare chest. The three girls in a row were giving him a regal treatment meant only for kings and princes. He was also sipping champagne and munching the laps of chicken. The young man was in heavenly bliss. What more could life offer? The split-unit air conditioner was on and music was blaring from a hi-tech CD player. He continued his wayward maze of romance till five o’clock in the morning. He was now like a dehydrated horse. He reached for his brief-case and rewarded the girls.
Despite the fact that she was debased, lewd and a girl of easy virtue, he had developed a strong affection for Angela beyond the gloat of sex appeal. Will Angela fall for him and stop “hooking up” with her Indian boyfriend? He later gave Angela a sweet ride back to her family’s house at Agege, after exchanging all necessary contact addresses with her.