Scars are part of everyone, some try to make them disappear using plastic surgery. But they forget that some physical scars feel worse because of the emotional damage it caused!
Merry Christmas and a season full of productivity and appropriated relaxation to you. Thanks a lot for the feedback from the first episode. If you missed out on the Episode One, find it here. The Two is here now, so enjoy. Three would be up a week today.
My name is Efua Teta Tolu Ademisi, and I am 20% Liberian, 30% Ghanaian and 50% Nigerian. Don’t ask me how I have 3 heritages or genealogies or whatever. I can assure you that it’s the least important fact about me you’d want to know. Mr Tehiti Ademisi, a famous medicine and con man raised me as a single parent. How he got my mom(s) to relinquish control, maybe will be a story for another day. Probably a case of gestational surrogacy, just that the tables turned this time around?
Growing up, I had no female influence whatsoever. The suburb of Accra where I grew up had weird females. They had their own lives, so I stuck to mine (at least what I knew of it). Whilst hitting that adolescent stage in Junior High, I was always the topic of gossip. The female teachers and students kept saying I lacked the grace of a woman, even some guys said so too. Can you imagine? But that never stopped me from playing my cards very well when the time came (wink**). Who needs grace to be bad? Man, I can be bad all by myself – that was from a Tyler Perry movie I watched way back. Not me, not me.
The life I am trying to put behind started from Senior High School. Brilliance seemed to be the only thing that came to me naturally. Back in Junior High, I always topped the class with a huge gap between me and the next best person. It wasn’t too much of a surprise then when my teachers chose exceptionally high-class girls’ schools for me. Apparently, they were too daft (excuse my harsh tone) to realize that ETTA lacking feminine grace would mean she’ll choke to death in a school full of actual girls with this ever coveted feminine grace craze.
The first day in Senior High was the last I ever saw my dad. He left me all alone after ascertaining all fees were paid and a dorm had been assigned me. “ETTA, do your best in life. It’s yours to live”.
Don’t say it! Yea, it’s obvious someone who wants to see you again wouldn’t give such a farewell message and I should have predicted at least. Well, normal girls (I usually feel normal), don’t allow their oversized brains and ill-developed emotional quotients to immediately do deductive reasoning when it comes to a father.
Either I was in Disneyland or Elon Musk’s car factory. Being a girl coming from a humble background, all of this felt a little unsettling. So many girls and much more parents, siblings, whole family etc. It was unusual for me to stay too long in a place that was teeming with so many people, thus I did what I do best. Disappear.
Fantasy League Girls’ Senior High was indeed in a league of its own. Our motto of “Plumbum Plumbum Mori” took on flesh with the kind of people trooping in. Oh sorry, I didn’t translate the motto, it means ‘lead or die leading”.
Dormitories were neatly lined out in an open space with shrubs and well-trimmed hedges all over. Cute summer huts that had mini fridges in them dotted most parts of the campus. Stones neatly painted and arranged spelled the names of all the dormitories. Resturant (Oh, I said that out loud didn’t I), I meant dining hall. If we were just going to be having meals here, then I wonder how the places we’d sleep and learn would look like!
A brief moment of head spinning and near-fainting occurred when I stepped into my dormitory. I thought I’d mistakenly walked into one of the master suite bedrooms in Movenpick or Oak Plaza hotel. These beds weren’t the camp bed student size beds, they were a little bigger. With pure white bedsheets, I thought they’d been bleached. The room shone bright and ambient with admirable and feminine decorations and a teddy bear on each top bed. Glitters spelled welcome on each of the top beds with a small hamper as finalization. Sleep eluded me, as I got into processing mode, trying to figure out how much all these costs and how I could have ended up here without a scholarship.
First two terms were uneventful, the usual first-year punishments, ninoes nights, fanfares and all those things that make senior high fun for normal people. Being a good student with a processing power above core i7, it was little surprise that I continued my culture of topping my classes. After all, my hobby, leisure, and relaxation or whatever was learning or better expressed, processing data. All those nails painting and Saturday makeup sessions were lost on me. How does someone who lacks feminine grace get interested in feminine things? Whilst they played, I preyed on my books and aced my tests.
Things changed in my final term as a ninoe when I made a startling revelation. Nature had become my go-to when it was evident even humans with >Core i7 brain power had to relax somehow. Away from the data and numbers. Alone time at our Fantasy Parks; listening to the chirping of birds and sound of bristling leaves. Basketball found itself into the routine someway, somehow too.
Relaxing in my favorite spot: open enough to run off when a snake comes, yet concealed enough to hide from any incoming person, a car drove to the field, parking right in front of my space. I didn’t bother to come out because usually, some girls preferred meeting their parents or visitors on the park during visiting. It was a visiting weekend, which meant, ETTA hiding period.
Ten minutes later, the car started creaking and I started hearing some soft moans. My mind immediately switched to flash(defensive) mode, as I picked a stick lying by me and walked stealthily towards the car. Who knows, it could be a petrol sucking meta, whose energy came through that. And what if they sucked up so much energy, the caused an explosion at the park? Determined to be at least The Flash or Supergirl for the day, I tiptoed around the car to the backseat window.
A sting on my left cheek was my cue back to reality. I had gone into shock at what I was seeing. Instead of being the heroine that saved a whole campus from an evil meta, I became a therapeutic shock patient who needed treatment. She smiled at me and nodded me off, that’s when I realized I’d been standing there for a while.
Putting together the rest of the heroine strength I had left, I literally flew back to the dormitory. I couldn’t shake off what I’d seen. Despite the noise and excited squeals and screams in the dormitory, I couldn’t be distracted. You see, for someone with a brain processor higher than Intel Core i7, things didn’t just disappear or get forgotten. Which meant, I needed explanation in order to shelve it in the right data field: forget/remember.
She came back later in the evening and asked me to carry her bucket of water to the bathroom. Like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I immediately did as I was told. When we got to the bathroom, she asked me to strip which I did as though I was under a spell. Before I knew what had happened, she had fondled me and the kiss on my lips was what brought me to life. Tolu, what just happened, the seemingly sane part of my mind seemed to be asking.
Chelsea’s voice snapped my mind back to the present when I heard initiation over. Dazed, I dressed up and left the bathroom and took a walk to the recreational center after properly dressing up as commanded. Tolu, you just got initiated into womanhood. No one sees what you saw and continues the same, that’s why I needed to initiate you into womanhood. From today onwards, the feminine grace would overwhelm you, because even the ladies would begin falling for you. However, remember they are not your target, the big men with the extremely big companies, bank accounts, houses, cars, and dough are the real deal.
Months went by until the next visiting when Chelsea took me along to the same place I’d caught her. There were two cars, the Range Rover from last time and an ash Infiniti QX 80 parked just a few yards from the Range. She introduced me to both men and then winked at me as she left with the Range driver. Left alone with the fine old man, I went into action mode. Quickly assessing the situation in a few seconds, putting two and two together I comprehended my role and executed it flawlessly as I’d been taught. [Chelsea had been training me all these months so I really gave the man a lifetime experience. He was so breathless, I thought he would die.]
This is the story of how I became a high-class prostitute, the former life I speak of. One who didn’t stand by the roadside for men who had to think twice only after ogling you, but the type we referred to as “Delivery Service”. You only had to think of a fling, and before you knew it, we were at your door.
Due to this development and the fun I had with the feminine grace Chelsea introduced me to that day in Fantasy League, I didn’t even think further education necessary. Of course, I aced Senior High School final exams because I was great at zoning in and out of seriousness. A true gift: switching easily in between tasks, unfortunately, aided in me feeling no guilt whatsoever all these years.
Most of the clients wanted to help me further my education as they realized I was smart, but I refused. I used the money gathered to start several businesses all over Accra and other capital cities of the country and bought a smart home with about 3 cars I could use anyhow. Who needs university education when I was already living the affluent life?
Sure you’re wondering how long I did this to get so much money right? Well, me too.
**ninoe – fresh students in Senior High School
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