chapter 3:the hard truth strikes
1988 Words
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It had been a month since Emily came to Lagos.
That night, Grace and Rejoice dressed up for “cleaning” and left. The house was quiet. Emily sat on the bed, thinking. _I should surprise them._
She knew their favorite — suya stew. She was very good at it. They always begged her to cook that particular food. _If I make it tonight, they’ll be happy when they come back._
By the time she left the house, it was already 10pm. Lagos never sleeps. The streets were still busy. 🚶🏾♀️
She went to the nearby suya man she normally buys from, but he wasn’t there. Someone directed her. “Ah, if you’re looking for suya, another man dey for one other place.”
She went to that other place. Still nobody.
Emily was determined. _No. If I don’t get this suya, my transport money will waste._ She asked around again. A man told her, “Sister, there’s one big hotel for front. Suya man dey there. But you no fit walk — you go take transport.”
They described the place for her. She didn’t want to go back home empty-handed. It would feel like wasting money. So she took transport.
When she got there, she told the suya man, “Sell suya for me.” The suya looked good. She tasted it.
While waiting, she looked at the hotel. Big. Bright. Beautiful. ✨ _Wow. Some people get money oh._
Then she froze.
She saw a figure of a lady that looked exactly like Grace. _Ah. Grace?_ She looked closer. The same short gown Grace wore before she left the house.
Emily was distracted. She didn’t even look at what the suya man was doing again. She walked forward, just to see clearly.
Then she saw it.
A man was roaming his hands all over Grace’s body. Touching her. Grabbing parts of her body that were supposed to be private — meant for her future husband. Touching her breast like that. 😳
Emily felt panic hit her chest. _I don’t understand. Is this the cleaning she came to do? Why is a man touching her like that? Why is she allowing it?_
_Could this be what I’m thinking? No. It cannot be. No, it cannot be._
She immediately brought out her phone.
and searched for the photo she took of grace to confirm if her eye's aren't deceiving her before she makes wrong accusations
The word hit her. _Sex._
She said it out loud, whispering to herself: “No. No no no no no no no…”
_So these people… Grace… Rejoice…_
The word came to her mind. The one Grandma used to hiss at when they walked past certain women in the village.
_Ashawo._
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The suya man yelled, “Ah! Madam, you’re not collecting your suya?”
Emily rushed to take it, still glancing back at the hotel door where Grace had disappeared with the man. She walked quickly, looking for a motorcycle. Her hands trembled. Her thoughts raced. _So that’s why._
She flagged down a bike and went straight home. She had no desire to linger on the streets.
She got inside and locked the door. 🔒
Suddenly, everything began to make sense.
The late nights. The sudden gifts. The way Grace and Rejoice would fan themselves between their legs, complaining, “The hotel toilet we used had an infection.” The medicine they took at 3AM.
It was all becoming clear.
_So this is what they do. The medicine… it’s because of p**********n. They’re selling their bodies._
She felt confused, angry, and numb all at once. But she forced herself to stay calm. She went to the kitchen and cooked the suya stew she had promised herself she would make.
Shortly after, Grace and Rejoice walked in.
As usual, they threw themselves onto the bed. “Ah, I’m so exhausted! Cleaning today was no joke. I scrubbed floors for hours.”
Emily responded quietly, “Welcome.”
Rejoice studied her face. “Why do you look like that?”
Emily avoided her eyes. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Is there food in the house?” Emily asked.
“Yes,” Emily said. “I made suya stew. Your favorite.”
Grace shot up from the bed. “Wait, are you serious? Suya stew? Emily, God bless you!” She joked and prayed, heading straight to the kitchen.
They ate together.
After the meal, Rejoice called out, “Grace, bring the medicine so we can take it.” Then she added, “Omo, we need to flush out these infections. Those hotel toilets… you won’t believe what we see inside.” 😒
Emily watched them, nodding slowly. Her expression was unreadable, but disgust flickered in her eyes.
Rejoice continued, “The toilet I cleaned today? It was terrible. I’ve never seen anything that bad.”
She glanced at Grace. They exchanged a look and burst out laughing. 😂
That was when Emily spoke. Her voice was calm, but sharp.
“Hmm. I see. So you went to scrub toilets. You scrubbed the toilet… and the man’s back along with it.”
The room went silent.
Grace turned sharply to face Emily. “Emily, what kind of nonsense are you talking? Are you okay?”
Rejoice quickly intervened. “Ah, Emily, don’t say that. Grace, you know she’s probably joking. Why are you shouting at her?”
Emily didn’t flinch. She looked directly at them.
“And you will still act innocent, eh? You’ll come back from your ‘hotel work’ and sit there fanning yourselves, pretending it’s a toilet infection every time. Is the hotel really that dirty, or is it something else? You fan yourselves because of what happened between a man’s legs. That’s what has shaken you. So stop pretending.”
Rejoice stared at her, stunned. “Emily… I don’t understand you. When did you start talking like this? Please, I’m too tired for this tonight.”
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Emily did not stop, even though Rejoice said she was tired.
“I can’t believe you,” Emily said, her voice laced with disgust. “I can’t believe you would do this. Grace. Rejoice. So you’ve been going around sleeping with different men? I’m disgusted right now. Ah, no wonder all these strange things have been happening. I thought maybe I was hallucinating.”
She shook her head. “You disgust me. I thought you would keep yourselves for your husbands. But look at you. You’re making fools of yourselves for different men.”
Grace snapped back at her. “How can you say such a thing about us? Yes, I admit it. We are prostitutes. Yes, the local name — ashawo. I don’t like the word, but I won’t deny it. But how dare you talk to us like that?”
Rejoice stretched out her hand, gesturing for Grace to be quiet. Tears filled her eyes. She closed them, and as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she spoke.
“Emily, how could you? Do you know where I started from? Do you realize how hard I have worked to survive to this point?”
She took a shaky breath. “Yes, I admit it. I made the wrong choice. I became a p********e. Fine. But I had dreams just like you. I wanted to go to school. I had plans. I had my virtue, and yes, I planned to keep it. But life has its own way of forcing a teenager to become an adult.”
“Don’t you remember? I was only seventeen when I left Grandma’s house to fend for myself. I wanted to ease her burden because I could see how she struggled to take care of all of us. I became an adult at seventeen, Emily. Don’t you understand that?”
“I thought I could work for people. I went from shop to shop, striving, thinking I could earn an honest living by washing plates for wicked people. The world is wicked. Wicked people who paid me pennies for all my hard work. I realized that men wanted my body, and the first time I gave in, it gave me enough money to feed for over a week. I thought it was good business. I was seventeen. There was no one to look after me. Life was harsh. Life was loud. The harsh reality is that there are many teenagers out there suffering who don’t even know what step to take next.”
“But I took a bold step, and I started a life. I started a journey. It may seem like a scary journey. It may seem like the wrong journey. But I started it anyway, and I’m living with it. I wanted to become a lawyer to defend those who had lived a life like mine — to defend those who were abused, just like my uncle abused me.”
Her voice broke. “I’m sorry. I have suffered. I have sworn. I have cried. I was abused. And I thought, maybe, just maybe, if I worked hard enough and saved enough money, I could go to school, become a lawyer, and defend those who were thrown behind bars for things they didn’t do — just like my parents died for something they knew nothing about.”
“I was determined to defend them. To defend people like me who were abused. Can’t you understand that, Emily? I had a life. I had a dream. I had things I wanted to do as a teenager. I never got to experience even a small taste of happiness or play. I don’t even know how to behave like a teenager anymore. I left at seventeen, and yes, I grew into this. I saw that life had no meaning for me anymore. I built myself to this stage. I tried. I strived. Yes, I sold my body, but I kept myself alive. At least I’m not dead. I can feed myself. I have a house. I have a roof over my head.”
“And you, Emily — you are such an ingrate. When Grace joined me here and found out what I was doing, she understood immediately because she knew how hard life was. She understood the pressure her parents placed on her, how they called her a loser. She understood what being a loser means, and she understood me.”
“But you, Emily? I tried to protect you from this lifestyle, and this is how you decide to repay me — with insults? I never even told you what I do, just to protect you from venturing into this kind of life with me. I could have been like other people and told you, ‘This is what I do, so you should contribute to the house too.’ I bring food here. I pay the rent. You don’t bring a single naira. You don’t contribute anything.”
Rejoice didn’t bother to look at her again.
“Yeah. So now that you’ve found out that me and Grace are prostitutes and you feel so disgusted — like we’re no longer human — there’s a new rule in this house,” she said, her voice cold. “You feed yourself. We feed ourselves.”
She folded her arms, so no problem. I will keep paying the rent. But Don’t you dare touch the food that I bring, because it’s dirty. It’s p********e food. It’s p********e money.”
Rejoice walked out on Emily and went straight to the bathroom to cry.
Grace looked at Emily regretfully. “I can’t believe you,” Grace said to her before walking toward Rejoice. “I can’t believe you spoke such disgusting words from your mouth after all we’ve done for you — after all that me and Rejoice have done for you ingrate.”
Emily felt regretful, but her stubbornness wouldn’t let her apologize.
- Writer
