“Do you realize people are sleeping?” he screamed at you, in a rather hush tone. But you were barely whimpering. The contraction in your lower abdomen seized your voice. You didn’t expect it to come so soon, the last time it came was less than a month ago, not that you kept scores but you knew it wasn’t time just yet.
At intervals you’d roll yourself into a shape of a bean, contorting your face and holding tight to your stomach as if you were hanging onto a thin rope and slowly you’d let go, breathing with muffled “hmms” and “oh my God’s” as you found a bit of relief then prep for the next episode which often came almost immediately .
You weren’t surprised he didn’t have the decency to check in on you. But you couldn’t understand how someone who was begging you to have sex with him the previous night couldn’t even give you a hand. You knew he didn’t love you; I mean sometimes he said he did and other times he said “I like you, Sonaya.”
“It’s Sonia”you’d usually correct him; he wasn’t even patient enough to master the correct pronunciation of your name. His eyes were constantly fixed on your lower lip, you could see him dying to invade your mouth. “See, there’s condom in my wardrobe,” he’d say pointing at a disorganized wooden cabinet were he kept his smelly clothes. You never understood why he’d invite you to a room oozing of rotten fish.
Oh you knew, he just wanted to shift your pant. But for you, you were just merely bored and needed a distraction from the loneliness of your one bed-room apartment which was just few meters away.
Tunde, you can’t even help me? Haba, now.” You said, hoping he’ll at least reach out his hands to rub your back. You laid there, struggling to catch your breath, making subtle noises, trying to feign control and give the pain your attention simultaneously. Oh what a task!
You raised your hand, tried to hold onto him, but he lost it. “How na, isn’t this something every girl goes through? Why is your own different, please abeg, people are sleeping.” You turned over and hugged one of his dirty pillows tightly with your teeth to prevent you from screaming. It seemed like those words and how it was said just opened a dam of tears in your eyes. You desperately prayed the pain would reduce so you would just go back to your house. You were not homeless after all.
You don’t remember how but you woke up on your second hand mattress which you put on the floor of your room. You must have regained balance and sense and left that night. Tunde could never have brought you back home. As long as you kept your legs closed, he was going to withhold his kindness.
“Hello, who am I onto please?”
“Sonaid, it’s me, Tunde, I’m sorry.”
You heard it but you couldn’t spare your dear time correcting him. He still hadn’t gotten your name right. You badly wanted to hang up on him but before you could, he said, “I know I really hurt you and I’m sorry.” That was a first, the men you knew never acknowledged their wrongs.
You rolled your eyes but responded, “it’s fine Tunde, I understand, you didn’t know what to do.”
No, you hadn’t fallen in love, you were dumb. So dumb that you could make an excuse for someone who lacked the ability to be human.
In less than a week, you were on his bed again, his mouth tucked in your ears, telling you sweet nothings. Maybe if his breathe didn’t reek of dope, you would have made your way to that wardrobe, take out that sheath and wear it on his already hard, pretty member.
Tunde wasn’t in the mood to play that day, but you thought you were “friends” and didn’t mind that you wanted to play “anointing oil” with a bottle of water in your hands. You only realized he was going to slap you the moment he did. You saw stars but you held onto your face and managed to say, “wait, whaaaatttt? You slapped me? How did we get here?” You knew how, you were a stupid girl that felt she could turn randiness into chastity.
He had a sorry look, but blurted out, “you frustrate me.” You stood there still holding your face.
Tunde slapped you because of bumbum; bumbum that you didn’t let him touch. “You hoe!” He retorted as you were about to speak further.
That was it, he just turned on your switch. You chuckled, “me, hoe, how, Tunde? Have you ever had sex with me?”
Hearing this, his neighbour whose attention had already been called by the noise, stood by door with his eyes and mouth communicating a rude awakening.
Tunde had been telling the neighbours he has been grinding you on a regular. You over heard him once telling the guys downstairs that he just finished “two rounds,” they hailed him, you thought he was referring to the rounds of a video game he was playing in the sitting room an hour ago.
“No, tell me.” Your urged him further to give you a response. Instead he turned to this neighbour and asked him to leave, saying you both were going to settle. He said he was sorry so many times but you knew he was only sorry that you found out. You’ve fed him your silence since.
What do you think?