DIARY OF A STRANGE WOMAN – 71

Nosa will date any man for the right price. Find out why.

I am Nosakhare William. From the time I was thirteen, I’ve been with men. I cannot be intimidated now at thirty. I know some men are pure evil but I know how to get even. This may be my first time of dating a man like Luke, but a man is still a man.

I call Toyin’s bluff and travel back to Lagos the following day. What can anyone do to me I haven’t seen till now – now I’ve been raped, a definite first.

The only thing that hasn’t happened yet is I haven’t died before. But I have had near-death experiences. What can Luke possibly do to me? Now I know I’m a target, I will be careful too.

Things don’t feel the same, though.

My stomach is growing, and because I want to keep this baby, I cannot break up with Luke and find another man. Even if I can, who will want a pregnant woman like me? Except for perversion.

My house is as empty as I left it and I consider getting a flatmate. It can be a very bad idea, I know, but with my life spiralling in different directions I’m not used to, I think someone in the house can help me find purpose and direction.

Where will I get a flatmate from anyway?

Toyin had mentioned Mary had accommodation problems in Lagos and was staying in her house, but even if I offer, my sister will never agree to live with me in a house provided by a man, a married man.

The walls are closing in on me. I feel so lonely. I rub my stomach. A baby is growing, and will come into a world so cruel, a world that has rejected its mother. I guess many will say I am one of the people adding cruelty but what about me? What chances did I have?

With my father gone, it doesn’t seem to make any sense to continue with my revenge. I only hurt myself. I am alone, hated by most people I know, deceived beyond measure by the married man I hope to exploit.

I’m not hungry but I have a bag full of fried meat. The meat has been well-seasoned and fried dry by the cooks. I put four on to a plate, open a can of malt drink I had in my fridge, and sit in my room, still the only furnished room in the house. It is not a good feeling to drink such chilled malt alone, with such sweet meat. But that’s what my life is. I can’t talk about regret.

I’m too stubborn to.

 

Photo cropped from pixabay.com

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