Opinion article by Duke of Shomolu, Joseph Edgar
It was 1986 during one of those long ASUU strikes. I was in my second year at the prestigious University of Ibadan.
A great student of Political Science and a member of the Great Independence Hall. I was a thoroughbred Katangite and we were bold, brash and up to point.
The strike was long and boring. It was meaningless and this meant long days of just sitting at home gisting and eating and basically just wasting away.
I had one of the most beautiful girls on Campus. She was lithe, dark skinned and had the kind of face that made people whistle.
She said she was a virgin and that I cannot touch her until we finished NYSC and got married.
So, I saw all my mates ‘nacking up and down’ at the famed NISER park on Campus and me I am there doing fine boy no pimple with no action.
That is how my cousin rushed into our Fola Agoro living room. I will not call his name because he is now a grandfather before his grandchildren and daughters in-law start to look them ancestor with one kind eye.
Joe, I don get where we fit dey nack for N20. We had both been suffering from ‘konji’. I jumped up and said where? He screamed Juliet Hotel.
Juliet Hotel was the main brothel in Shomolu then. Everyday on my way to Church, I will be seeing the girls. Plenty, in different shapes and sizes and be wondering how exactly can I get visa into that paradise.
My father would have killed me. So this was my cousin saying he had found a way. I say oya, I am ready. ‘konji’ had almost killed me.
By this time, I had had all the wet dreams in this world and my frustrations were beginning to affect my state of mind.
But there was a problem. We needed N40. How do we do get it? Suddenly I had a brainwave- lets go and do ‘paro’ if you grew up in Shomolu or any slum in Lagos, you will know what ‘paro’ is.
This is when you take Eleganza coolers and exchange with cash from the roving ‘mallam’.
My mother had plenty Eleganza. All mothers at the time had. We took six and hit the exact N40 and moved towards Juliet Hotel.
There is a kind of confidence you have when you have money. This one was not toasting where you will avoid the most beautiful and go for the bow legged and twisted teeth because of a better chance of success.
This one, na my money. So I went for the best. She was tall, her breast where like the flag staff pole and her face was cherubic she was Ghanaian.
READ ALSO: Our Duke has gone mad again… Edgar recounts his ‘ear piercing odyssey’
I say, ‘come’. She followed me. We went to her room. You are young o, I say I am a Political Science student of the famed University of Ibadan, she say what is that?
She say, you are fine and young, why you dey come Ashawo, girls go dey die dey for you. By this time, the questions have started irritating me.
I didn’t come to do News line, I was ready, my member was ready, I was even panting like a wrestler and like Tinubu ‘I wanted to be dirty’.
I say how much, she say N20 one round I say oya. She say pay. I gave her. She say condom, I say ‘kai’, I forget. She say don’t worry, I have.
She brought out one pack of Gold circle tore it and said, ‘ go bath first make you no come dey sweat on top my body.
I say ok. Now her room was very tiny and the bath was in-between rooms. So, she and her neighbor shared the same bath and could access from their individual rooms.
As I made to enter the bath, I looked at her naked breast all ready for me. This was something I was going to do to make Akwa Ibom proud.
I will nack her in a way that she will refund my money and say, ‘ in all if my career, I have never seen such a sports man. Just you wait.
As I enter the bath, I saw her. she was ugly, black and smelly. She was on the toilet smoking and her breasts were touching the floor. Her tummy had covered her private part and she looked like a black Medusa.
She screamed,’ this boy don see Ashawo t..t… I didn’t see anything o, the big tummy had covered the thing sef.
I ran back to my girl and she too started screaming , Kai, this boy don die he don see Ashawo t..t…
Apparently, this was the biggest offense in that world seeing the nakedness of a worker when you were not with her or about to pay for her services.
Before I knew what was happening, my girl ran out to go get a bottle of schnapps and kola nut. I just stood there naked asking what was going on.
Of all the Ashawo t..t.. I chose to see, na the leader own me ibibio man chose to go and see.
I stopped counting the slaps at 30. My male member shrank into my testicle and I started to cry. Over 20 workers beat the living daylight out of me.
My host begged and cried. Na small boy, abeg make una forgive am. They hissed, which small boy, no be ashawo he come fuck? Abeg slap again.
By this time, my cousin had finished and had come to join the begging , ‘him mama na soldier, she go come attack o’.
Hoping that will scare them. They shouted back, make she come. Shebi na ashawo he come fuck, he go fuck tire.
By this time, I had started hallucinating from the beating. Blood coming out of my mouth, I begged for my life.
I told them I was a Sunday school teacher, and that this was my first attempt. That I hadn’t even done anything when this happened. That they should please forgive me that till I die I will never come near them again
They beat me to their hearts satisfaction and told me to pull my ears and run home and go report myself to my mother.
When we got home, we had another dilemma. What will we tell my parents was the cause of the three ‘koko’ on my head and the swollen lips and scratches all over my face.
We agreed to lock myself in the room and not come out till I was healed.
But my mother? Nma Ibok? Nma Nurse? The only Akwa Ibom woman who fought civil war? She broke the door and screamed when she saw my face.
Iniiiiiii she screamed. My ibibio name is Iniobong- who beat you?
Me that I have military training, I know that if I tell my mama that Ashawo beat me, that their own beating will be Childs play and my mother will show me. My mother that used to boast that I was a virgin.
I look her straight in the eyes, like the soldier that I am and said, ‘ ekanmi, if you want to treat my wounds, treat me but to tell you what happened will never happen.
It was better for tetanus to kill me than to tell my mother that 30 naked Ashawo beat her first son. The son that was meant to deliver Nigerian Presidency to Akwa Ibom.
She screamed and screamed. I just dey look am. She start to cry, I just dey look am. She shout, she beg me. Her blood was hot. She needed to assert revenge on whoever did this.
I say mummy just go buy my coffin because I ready to go now than telling you wetin happen.
Mothers are the best. She treated my wounds and gave me very sweet Afang with fufu and tucked me in but not after laying a curse on whoever did this to her son.
So I wasn’t surprised when a few months after, Juliet Hotel collapsed. The building came crashing down one bright morning bringing an end to an Era in Shomolu.
Na my head catch them…
*Duke of Shomolu*
