Entry 50 by Tijani Mukhtar

Rosco will be able to tell if he uses that thing he promised will keep me away from having a child. He said it is good. He calls it ‘condom’. I do not want to share my room with anybody” I reassured myself. Except that foolish Rosco who even prefers we do it in his danfo.

Kai! It felt good.

Night came, this bus parked just in front of my place. Two hefty men came down first, slashed two cutlasses against the concrete ground, two bullets in the air and everybody took to their heels. They both had a red scarf on their head. One even had a tortoise on his chest. I was dragged to my room after I tried to run. It lasted a while with the first. The second took his turn.

Consequently, I was getting used to the same routine as this same people came often but did not attract attention any time they came again. I would sit and wait for them sometimes if they did not come early or early enough. It was indeed regular.

Roscoe would come, call me into his danfo and we would start the thing. It was happening the other day when this second man knocked on the window. Rosco waved him, and signaled him to go and then I turned to look at who Rosco was talking to and he saw my face. ‘Ah! Baba Rosco” . Rosco did not answer and we finished  up while he was still looking.

I should mention this – These people that live in this part of the world are ridiculous. I thought I was mad. I remember the things I have seen in this place. I know the oyinbo people (with short trousers and white socks)  who they say live far away from here must live better than this.

After a while, months maybe, my stomach got bigger.  Ehen! It was obvious I was going to have a child. I was weak, always sleeping, and depressed.  I rarely go out to smoke Indian hemp with the men. When Rosco got back that  day, he suddenly asked if  I was pregnant as he got closer to me just after he parked his danfo . I said I don’t know and that was the last moment I saw of Rosco. I have never set my two eyes on him since then. If I am going to have this child, I don’t know who and where the father is.

How many people have I even done it with? Rosco or who?

Now that I have my sanity back, I am also breaking down. To #EndTheStory, I don’t know what to do as my options are limited and uncertain.

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8 responses to “Entry 50 by Tijani Mukhtar

  1. You just gotta love this story. Different from a lot of entries. I love good story-telling o and you just did it well here. Great job man.
    Wish I could share but I have to share mine as well http://bit.ly/entry17
    anyways you got one vote from me.

  2. I agree, this is fresh, bags a load of reality, d use of words are simple yet powerfully magnetic. Like this.

  3. Wat an amazing write up, u have what it takes n I’m a critic for stories. U got a vote from me n kudos

  4. I must say, this is really peculiar. I ve never come across such a story, it feels so real, eventhough the words n phrases being used are a simple, I can feel all the emotions therein. GOOD JOB!!

  5. I must say, this is really peculiar. I ve never come across such a story, it feels so real, eventhough the words n phrases being used are simple, I can feel all the emotions therein. GOOD JOB!!

  6. I must say, this is really peculiar. I ve never come across such a story, it feels so real. eventhough the words n phrases being used are simple, I can feel all the emotions therein. GOOD JOB!!

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