‘eh brother, bo sen se niyen (that’s how they do), looking for somebody to sleep with them’.
‘Can this truly be what she is saying? How come I didn’t think that way?’.
All these words is being replayed in my head as I wash. How could someone want to get laid by a stranger, still come forward to beg for it? Am I living here on earth that I can’t read her intention that it took the interpretation of an old woman before I could unravel her inner thought(s), or too blind to see that option?
I really curse the girl for interrupting a rather perfect morning. I am in a high spirit–singing, dancing while washing my clothes. The early morning sun shines down on my back as I bend to wash the lot inside the bowl placed strategically in front of me. The other neighbours agreed not to wash at that spot, i really don’t know why but this makes my washing better and faster.
‘Those women can gossip’, I recollect, realizing the serenity about me. They would have picked that spot, bring their seat with one hand, come with dirty plate mount inside big bowl balance on their head with other hand holding it. Lingerie meant for the private room they share with their husband will be worn out-doors, leaving their loosely breast dangling about in the confine of the transparent clothe. I get so irritated when they share never ending unwholesome experiences, laughter that gush out from the
bowel without caution. This and more vex me.
But today, none of it and the sun is so pleasant. It has been smooth all the way for I am through spreading my clothes. Downstairs to fetch water for bathing, I am approached by this dark girl, innocent by her look. She utter some words which I couldn’t hear for she is a bit farther from me and the well where I am. I signal her to come towards me. She did. ‘Good morning. Do you understand Yoruba?’, ‘No, i don’t?’. I really want to check how good she is by feigning no knowledge of the language she want to communicate in. ‘Please, help me with any money to buy food, maybe raw rice to cook, I am hungry’.
I looked at her before speaking, buying out time with my bucket being washed. She is well dressed, a tight fitted knicker she wears, hair
cut low, good top with this zip in front, her hips was carrying a small skirt worn over the trousers. Trying to see her body frame to guess her age. She is yet to develop all the womanly figure known to matured women, though tall, her face gives her away as being young between 12/14. ‘I don’t have any money this morning’ I reply.
She looks at me and leaves. I related this scenario to my landlady that has a shop at the frontage looking at us while we talked. She gave me the answers above. As she walked away, I think how she’ll end up meeting another guy trying to beg for money and she’ll be ask to come inside to collect a paltry sum. ‘Ah !!’ it dawned on me, ‘she is about to be raped’