Have you heard? I’ve joined bad gang.

Allen-Avenue, who doesn’t know the avenue? It’s dubbed the commercial sin city of the mainland. Well, this isn’t the first time I’d be spending a night at Allen-Avenue, sometimes I have to pull an all-nighter  to meet up with work load. You know?

The night 29th of June 2016 – a Wednesday night was particularly interesting,  because of the adventure and the near misadventure that attended it. I didn’t plan on staying overnight because I didn’t have so much workload to grapple with. But I did and in the most unconventional manner ever.

Usually, I pull my all-nighters in the office, right in my swivel chair. The routine is before the food vendors lock-in, about 9/10pm I’ll go downstairs to pick up victuals with a soft drink and some edibles to last for the night. This night was particularly unconventional, because, I wasn’t spending it in the office.

Zaaz Hotel. Zaaz is one of the standout hotels on Opebi-Allen street, after normal offices and banks keep the Avenue bustling for the day, hotels, bars and strip clubs keep them awake through the night. By reason of flight plan, I usually pass by Zaaz every morning, so it came as a handy choice over a others. I cannot begin to describe the class that the hotel oozes, no I can’t.

Done with the prelims at about 8:37pm, I finally settled into room 307 – palatial room fit for Kings. I dropped my laptop and loosened my buttons and fell flat on the big white bed, soaking in the new lease of life. As if it was planned, the AC and TV welcomed me in unison. I walked to the rest room, quite impressive. A sophisticated WC and a bathroom with Sauna, and something that looked like a standing jacuzzi having an MP3, radio and tiny but beautiful floodlights. After testing if to confirm if they’re all working (they are), I exited the rest room. Pulling the window blinds, I glanced over the swimming pool and made a mental note to swim later. I buttoned my shirt again, took a few selfies, sent to some of my own and stretched a bit. There and then, it took a pang to remind me I’ve not eaten all day! I loosened my cufflinks and buttons, hung my shirt, grabbed my wallet, phones, the room’s swipe card and headed out! Insert food!

I was on the very lit street now, I walked a few metres, past the hordes of scantily clad girls making cat calls at me: “Hello, fine boy” “Hi, baby” “Sweetheart”. Reality check – ok, Oluranti Akerele this is 9:15pm and you’re in Allen-Avenue. I ignored them – was only focused on eating. I needed to call to tell my house people I wouldn’t be coming home, quickly checked my wallet, not enough cash. I crossed to a GTBank on the other side of the road, I met two girls, one was fitting her bra and mini-skirt in front of the mirror on the building. The other was quite conservative, hid behind a light and changed into her work dress. I saw it all.

After withdrawing a few bucks from the ATM, I was heading out when I received a call from a relatively new colleague who hitherto I thought is already having cupid hits. We spoke for quite a long time, she dropped and called again, to know if I was fine, if I’d eaten, when I’d sleep etc. “Aunty, I dey H plicks!” I muttered after dropping the call.

Out of the ATM gallery, I started out to where I’d buy food, I started seeing more girls dressed like partly hatched lizards. I sneaked a few pictures of them and I’d have shared , but no 18+ contents on my blog, please?!

Disgust replaced contempt as they continued the cat calls. Then the devil started fixing ideas in my head, I found it hard to resist – I was hungry. At your most vulnerable moment, you have to tread with caution. I bought my dinner and smuggled it in. Smuggle because; “GUESTS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BRING IN FOOD AND DRINKS PLEASE“. I yimu’ed! Awa bad guys!

I swiped the lock open and entered. You don’t have power in your room until you drop your swipe card into a small pigeonhole, then a whizz sound tells you the room would be lit in 2 seconds. I ate a little, called a few friends, watched TV,  and I started asking myself if I was bored and in need of company. Maybe!

I quickly glanced at my watch, 11:43pm! I waltzed to the wardrobe, again, grabbed shirt, cufflinks phones, wallet, swipe card etc, 11:45pm met me outside the gate. I called the very first girl I set my eyes on, Clara or something. Fair, short, quite busty and very daring. I started recording. Clara said she charges 15k for the night and 5k for the nut – what they called long term and short term. I asked her what she’ll be doing, then she started this long tirade into the lewdville. I shuddered at every f, d, s and p-word she uttered excitedly – apparently I wasn’t ready for this bad gangsterism. I told her to look around to see a small army of about 30 girls of all shapes and sizes, in strategic positions around that MTN roundabout – I had options, not just options, but better options. Hence, I said a ridiculously low price – 6k, after a little dillying-dallying, she agreed for 8k. Now, she’s agreed, my next headache is to dislodge her without making her feel she’s wasted her time. I told a tale about calling my friends who are in Peka – a strip club across the road first, if they might have plans for the night already. She attempted to wait, but I told her off nicely.

11:55pm, just one in the kitty! I took long, strident steps further down, a chorus of “Hi baby boy, sweetie” greeted me. I beckoned on one to follow me, she came and we started negotiating. Joy (that was her name) was quite memorable for one daring thing she did. I deliberately ‘whined‘ her about having a nice body, she purred excitedly. Again, I deliberately accused her of having it all padded up. She reacted with an instant jerk! Insisting it was all natural, I looked at her non-plussed, unconvinced. To drive home her point, slapped her butt, and pulled the elastic band of her leggings, to reveal what I didn’t want to see. After she agreed on a price, I employed the same tactic for Clara to dislodge her.

I spoke to a couple more, three to be precise. One 18k girl had me locked down, attempted to grope me as a testament to that she’ll treat me right. I actually had to call Shina out of sleep by 12:40am and PING’ed Ola minutes later all in a “How far where una dey? Una get plans?” bid to dislodge her. Another, Amanda, super plus sized, fair, speaks averagely good English charged 20k. Amanda said she’s a graduate of Marketing but unemployment brought her to the streets. One other Angela or so, also struck me, when I met her, she was having a phone conversation with someone that sounded like a relative. She told the person to try to get something to eat, looks like the person on the other end said she had no money. Angela told her to borrow money from someone and that if her market sells…

“When I come back for morning, I go give am back. Anyhow, just find something chop, you hear? Anyhow we go survive.”

Already caught emotionally unaware, I spoke to her a little, her asking price wasn’t any different from the range others had requested for.

I started warming up to go back inside, I finally did at about 1:40am, got in, ate a little turned on my system and started out on putting the work to bed. I worked through the night and finally slept at some minutes past 5am. Time ti awa fi n shishe ni time ti e fin sun.

I reminisced about my encounter with those girls, one common streak I noticed was the desire to earn a living. This desire seem to be a lone desire, not even fuelled by the need for physical, sensual gratification. I thought endlessly about how much hunger, desperation, unemployment and everything in between could drive one to insane, debasing levels.

Few minutes before I slept, a mental motion picture of Angela’s caller played in my mind – a poorly fed young girl, sunken eyes, lean arms, maybe goes to a public school in threadbare uniform – depending solely on proceeds from her elder sister’s trade to live through each day. Poor child! “Anyhow we go survive” Those word echoed endlessly in my subconscious till I slept almost misty-eyed.

If you read this with a judgemental posture before getting to Angela’s, you’re part of the problem. I should say a prayer for the likes of Angela and her siblings, I thought about how privileged some of us are.

An urgent call woke me at 6:55am – I had to be chauffeured to Oja-Badan, Ibadan and Asejire in Oyo and Osun States respectively. The former is a somnolent village in Ibadan, where women walk about bare-chested! Might write about this too, if I could squeeze time to.

In the owner’s corner of the gold and black Honda Pilot saloon car, I almost caught myself slipping into sleep – I’ve barely had 2 hours of sleep in two days now. Two days? 48hours? Or 24 hours? My Maths failed me, knackered to stupor but, anyhow we go survive!

I slept!

– Akerele Oluranti;
2:47am, 6/6/2016
paulakerele@gmail.com
T: @Super_Akerele
IG: superakerele