THE LAST TRIP DOWN THE WEST 1
A thousand and one things ran through Mary’s mind as she packed her things for the twelfth time in twelve years. She was used to the procedure and she felt little or no emotion as she watched the little children who ran across the sandy courtyard bare backed and bar footed.
They all had bulging abdomens and all had scanty, tiny short and knotty hair. They all looked like her, they were all related to her by blood… all fifteen of them.
She looked at the far horizon beyond which the world she was now
accustomed to lay. Waiting, calling to her. That place of a mixture of
heaven and hell. A mixture of Pleasures and pain. When she had first set
out for that place, she had done so with so much hope. So much
aspiration, so much faith in fate. But now as she looked at her now
matured, well rounded body, the body that had been raped, beaten ,
punished, tortured, starved, maltreated in all forms of ways that only
she could imagine, she knew that she would never be that hopeful or
faithful again. She had come to realise that the world out there was
really a world for the brave. Weak people get eaten by the sharks of
this world.
Her life up to this point had been anything but easy and the proof of
this statement could be seen in every inch of her body. she was a girl
of about 5ft , maybe less, she could pass for a pretty girl if only she
would smile. her face was a square box with sharp corners and an oily
appearance. her hair was short and kinky. She had a well rounded figure
that betrayed her age even though her height did not favour her at all.
The light pink undersized dress she wore barely covered her ample and
supple bossom. What was worse was that it also barely covered her well
rounded ass. But for the black, out of place skirt that she wore on it,
she would have been the center of attention for all humans with a third
leg.
Mary would have passed for a fourteen year old if she didn't have the
body she did. She had the face of a twelve year old and the voice of
maybe a slightly older person. Her manner was timid and she had the air
of one of those people that you dismiss with the wave of the hand.
Underneath the person described above was a very contrasting
personality. The Mary of the flesh was a timid young girl who was being
used as domestic help from one place to another. She never saw her wages
and she never dared ask. The Mary of the inside was a twenty three year
old girl that had spent most of her life being a servant to people .
She had seen a lot and knew a lot too. She knew secrets of rich powerful
people and she could read and write. She could do simple arithmetic and
could tell the time. She was a girl who could tell the kind of person a
person is just by looking at them, a skill she had acquired over the
years in the service of rich men and women who didn't even know that she
could speak proper English and pretend to be anyone she wanted.
This Mary was highly skilled in lie detection and she often used it when
she could. This Mary was now going to Lagos for the twelfth time and as
she mentally bade farewell to the crumbling building that housed her
and her family, she knew that she would not be coming back.
“ from the time of john the baptist, the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence and only the violent take it by force”
She thought to herself as she resolved to become the predator and
finally stop being the prey. She was tired, exhausted and quite ready to
try a whole new different form of living. She would not be the victim
anymore. Never never never…
She snapped her small carry all box shut and smiled with bitterness.
After twelve years of slavish labour, this was all she could get
herself. She still wore mostly the same clothes and the ones that were
not old were hand- me- downs from either her employers or their
children. Was she going back to live that life? She wondered but really,
she needed not wonder because she had the answer to that question. She
knew what she had to do… and in a way, she was excited.
“this will all end soon”
She thought to herself as she stepped out into the streets and was led
to the waiting vehicle by her "uncle" the man that took her to rich
people to be used as domestic help... the man who got her payment and
never gave her a dime. The man who had taught her early in life that her
position in life was to serve. More importantly , to not expect a
payment for her services besides feeding and a roof over her head. That
man...
The streets looked the same, more or less. After nearly thirteen years of living in different parts of Lagos, she now knew everywhere. Or at least, some of everywhere. She watched as the streets moved past the car ever so slowly. The hold up on the mainland bridges could try the patience of a monk!
The streets looked the same, more or less. After nearly thirteen years of living in different parts of Lagos, she now knew everywhere. Or at least, some of everywhere. She watched as the streets moved past the car ever so slowly. The hold up on the mainland bridges could try the patience of a monk!
"bread!! bread!!!" one guy was shouting and running after the cab like a
crazy person. mary smiled and looked to her left. a young man of about
eighteen was holding a mixture of windshield wipes and car chargers. His
zipper was open and he wasn't wearing any underwear. Mary did not look
away. She gazed at the open fly until both the guy and his war cry like
shouts of "car charger!!" had faded.
When her "uncle told the driver to turn left, Mary realised that she had
been in that part of town before. what was it six years? she noticed
that quite a few things had taken on new looks. The streets brought back
memories . Deep rooted unsettling memories that she thought she had
buried away successfully. Mary shook her head... "no no no" she muttered
to herself.
" I will not think about anything. i will not remember anything!"
The attempt to blank out was futile. The memories flooded in and her
eyes started to burn. she didn't even know when the car stopped.
Mary!!"
She started. She looked around to see who was calling her. not that she needed to. The voice was her uncle's.
Do u want to sleep in the car or what?"
Sorry" she muttered quietly as she struggled out of the car, still
clutching her bag. her "uncle" grabbed her hand and pulled her up the
walkway that led to a gigantic mansion.
Almost as if he was afraid that she would run away at any moment. He walked up to the gate and pressed the door bell.
ARCHTIM!!!"
Mary sneezed
Her "uncle" looked at her as if he would break her head but ignored her.
He stretched out his hand to touch the bell again but the gate swung
open. Taken aback a little bit, he took a minute to walk into the
compound. The gates swung shut once they were inside and Mary took a
deep breath. Finally, her last journey down west was beginning. She
clutched her bag and waited for the series of event which she already
had memorised . Her employer stepped out of the house, Mary smiled as
their eyes met.
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