Nneka wakes up feeling more dead than alive. Her body
feels numb as if she isn’t in charge, like an enormous malfunctioning machine.
Her thigh is sore, dry and harshly hot, as if lacking all feline juice. Only
her mind feels like hers. Slowly, she trains it to match her surrounding
and realizes she is in a quiet room smelling of chemicals. In an instant it
dawns on her she is a hospital.
What am I doing
here? What is happening? How did I get here?, she asks herself in a rush.
In a flash, she realizes what and how.
* * *
‘It’s time, blockhead!’ yelled Rachael.
‘Take it easy Rach, can’t you sense newness when you
see one?’ cautioned Omos. She then turned to Nneka, ‘Nne, aren’t you coming? It’s
almost 8pm.’
‘I am. Just that I almost forgot. I am sorry.’
She hurriedly slipped out of her bed and into the
showers. In barely 20 minutes, she was dressed in red, tight-fitting,
provocatively short gown. The three friends walked gaily to her parked Cadillac
and headed for Mirage, the hottest nightclub and bar in town.
Nneka and her friends, Omos and Rachael are 300 level
Accounting students of Igbinedion
University
What she felt she lacked was fun, raw fun like her
friends were indulging in every other week. The type that brings them to the
brink of ecstasy. Tales of their escapades and conquests always drew her to fantasy
where she nudges and yearns for their kind of daring fun. This lure was what
finally broke her resistance to illicit acts, alcohol, drugs and all.
Tonight was her third time on the streets fun-seeking.
Though she can now handle alcohol, she had never gone over the edge, not yet.
Usually, she would sit alone at the far-reaching end
of Mirage’s bar, cuddling a glass of Cognac
or Red Label and watch her friends dance and flirt about. Often, she returned
to the hostel alone, her friends seizing on some willing stud or rich
stag. Tonight however, she decided to
join in the flirting and go all the way. She danced herself beyond contentment,
carelessly slapped away the probing hands of a fun-seeker trying to steady her twerking buttocks.
Tired of winging her hips, she returned to her usual
spot to watch her friends and other ‘swagger’ guys around, determined to fish
out her class and crown her night of fun. What
a night this will be! She noticed this idler sitting alone, almost
oblivious of the noise, as if removed from the scene. He had on a blue fitting
denim pant, a black polo t-shirt that hugged his barrel chest, spreading
fittingly across his muscled frame. His chiseled face bespoke of handsomeness,
his thoughtful eyes intelligence. Clearly he was in a league of his own. The
gold Rolex and silver metal ring on his left wrist and mid finger told of
wealth and power.
Why on earth is
such a perfect specimen idling away while less smashing guys are going in for
the booty kill?, she wondered. Curious, she decided to check him out.
‘Hi, all alone?’
‘Nope. My friends are dancing and catching their
fun.’
‘Why are you here if not for the same reason?’ she
asked.
‘I should be asking you the same question,’ he
smiled. ‘I saw you sitting earlier by yourself over there.’
‘Oh, me? I just sat down not quite 20 minutes now.
Just a bit tired. Besides, I am not the dancing type. I prefer to just drink a
little and … em, sorry, I am Oge’, she lied.
‘Sam,’ he answered truthfully. ‘You don’t look like the partying type.’ He
observed.
‘Well, you could say that,’ she admitted. ‘How about
you? Do you usually hang out or is it just boredom?
‘A bit of both. But I do enjoy taking a drink
sometime.’
‘And you are all alone, not joining in the game like
your friends. Oh! She must be around.’ Nneka sarcastically looked around, then turned back to
smiling face Sam.
‘Where is she?, ‘ she mock-inquired.
‘Hmmm….,’ he mocked-pondered. ‘she ran when she saw
you coming,’ he joked. ‘I’m alone, save my guys.’ He pointed towards his
friends who were actively dancing and chasing and grabbing some chics.
She paused and waited for him to continue. He did
not. Instead, he took a long sip from his white vodka, feigning a burning
tongue.
She wondered why the diplomacy. Come
out straight and let’s see if I may gift you myself. Who knows, you might be
worth your looks, she mused.
Sam could tell she was green and might foot his need
and erase his predicament.
‘So you are all alone? I doubt,’ he asked.
‘Actually, my girlfriends are dancing too. That’s
part of their type of fun.’
‘What is your definition of fun?’
‘For me, it means abandoning myself to enjoyment,
drinking, flaunting my hips in a worthy man’s face, the likes’, she cooed.
‘What happens afterwards?,’ he needed to know, ‘I
mean you can’t possibly just drink, shove your gorgeous behind in, say, my face
only. What’s the price for the cr…
‘Wait!,’ she cut him, sensing his implied point. ‘I
am not a peddler. In fact I have never…’ she stopped herself mid-sentence not
to sound naïve or too innocent or immature. I
am an adult 21. ‘Look,
I indulge for the fun of it. If I want money, I got my own. I chose my crushes
and dates.’ And you are my first, Mister. Better not blow it.
‘Sorry for misinterpreting you. I actually did not
mean it the way you read it. But does this mean I am…’ Sam prodded tactfully,
hiding his joy with an innocent look.
‘Maybe, but no strings afterwards.’ Unless deserving.
‘You mean I ...’
‘If you are willing to massage my back as payment,’
she cuts him off, ‘I might make your night.’
‘Let’s drive to my hotel room. it is around the
corner,’ Sam suggested.
‘How about your friends?’
‘Oh them? They won’t miss me. How about yours?
‘I’ll take permission. But you must bring me back.’
‘For sure.’
Nneka walked over to Omos and took permission,
leaving her with her car keys. She drove with Sam to the clubhouse’s adjoining
hotel.
Three hours later, she was back in her hostel room
from a night of fun that totally damned her future. Sam survived the night a
complete victor, having achieved his sole goal—to pay his due.
* * *
Thank God for
Oge.
Ogbonaya Sam had been asked to bring a human essence as the crowning
of the two-month ritual to complete his initiation into the League of Power and
Wealth. This had been a war raging within him for two weeks and today was his
final day to pay his due, failing which he was certain to find his manhood
forever shriveled and lifeless. He was sure to lose all human essence in him by
the end of the night. He had witnessed the consequence of failing to complete
the process happen to his friend who died on the open street, with his heart
ripped out two days before. He had been asked to provide a virgin’s heart to
complete his initiation. As a rule, when you fail to fulfill the prescription, it
becomes your lot at the end of the allotted time. His friend failed and earned
his lot.
Sam’s due was to lay with a willing virgin—to have sex
not provoked or paid for. It didn’t matter if he used a condom or not, his meeting
such virgin will suck the living essence off her and secure his place of wealth
and power. Sam knew he was boxed. For two weeks, he had been searching for a
willing prey. All the girls he had come across had been broken eggs. He was down
to his final night when luck dropped Oge on his laps.
Thank God for Oge.
To create a likable picture for unsuspecting preys,
and make his possibly final days as a complete man memorable, his friend who was already
a member, provided him all the luxury money could afford. On the way to the
hotel in his friend’s car, he diplomatically confirmed she was a virgin, 300
level student and from a good family with strong moral background. What he
couldn’t place was why she choose to heed her friends’ lifestyle. He almost
felt sorry for her, but that would be his certain end. Thank God for Oge.
* * *
But the party was three months ago. Nneka is now
faced with sure death. She had been in and out of coma six times since she was
diagnosed with an unknown ailment that dries up her pubic parts, leaving it
wrinkled and shriveled. It started two days after she met Sam. Ruing that
cursed day, she vowed never to listen to music let alone go clubbing, for it
was the lure of music and fun that has now ruined her. She had chosen the death side of the coin of existence and this was her payment.
Sadly, her friends felt otherwise. She was just
unlucky. The groove continues.
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