AJEGUNLE: The Tale From The Ghetto (By Fikfaknuel) - Season 1 - Episode 4

7 years ago

AJEGUNLE: The Tale From The Ghetto (By Fikfaknuel) - Season 1 - Episode 4

The hotel was a lively one, with 'konto' music emanating from the big speakers that were placed on strategic positions. The ground was littered with broken bottles that suggested a fight had happened, actually, in this hotel, a fight happened, every day. They were men who seeked the pleasures of the earth. They sat down on the sofa offered on one corner of the dancehall, so as not to interrupt the gyrating of bodies on the middle. Majority of people who flocked in here preffered to enjoy themselves while standing, a bottle of beer in hand, and rubbing their hardened penises on the butt0ckz of scantily dressed girls all in the guise of dancing. The VIP were the ones on the long sofa, and they sat there after paying a sum of money, while they watch and observe if any girl catches their fancy and she is invited, to negotiate with the VIP. These VIPs had the privilege of demanding 'mouth action' from the girls which was given freely on the sofa. If impressed, he rents a room.

All these made 'Phase two' a popular name amongst fun seekers in the area, and it was always full with people of different ages, old and young, poor, rich, and the comfortable. There was a size for every one, and the price for any pocket. Today was no different, it was a Thursday, which was one of the special days at the hotel. DJ Solo B was the one slamming hard dancehall jams for the dancers, who were all children, below the age of 12. These children were mostly offsprings of the sex workers, while some were victims of ghetto experience. The hotel provided a home and paid them handsomely, with a plate of rice that had a quarrel with stew, twice a day, and semen, was mostly the water they drank.

Saliu walked into the hotel in a slow manner, observing the frenzified state of the place, he dodged bodies of grown-up men, who filled the hall, that were performing s£nsu@l acts on the 'children entertainers' as they wee called, entertainers that had barely grown breast, caressing the chests and sexual body parts of men old enough to be their fathers, grand fathers even.

He, Saliu, hit the glass table which the bartender sold liquor with his ring
"Gimme meshango, one litres, and give me three cups"

The bartender bent down, and brought something that was somehow yellow in color, put inside a plastic table water bottle, which should be a litre, and handed them with three little plastic cups to Saliu after he had handed him some notes of naira.

Saliu ran up the stairs to the first storey, where the rooms were, pausing for some time to figure out the room he was looking for. He remebered the man's favorite room, and he went there, with his present in his hand. He knocked thrice, he had to be precise in his dealings. The man had almost killed someone because he repeated a word twice-beating about the bush. The door opened and Saliu entered, raising his head up, in greeting.

"The Man, I need your help" Saliu said once he had looked at the other two people who sat in the room, discussing somthing. The discussion paused as soon as he entered. The Man, was facing backwards to the door so Saliu couldn't see if his facial expression said 'go on'.

He waited, until The Man turned to face him. He wasn't a man, he was a boy, a teenager who should be thirteen. His facial features supported the fact-but his voice, which sounded too coarse when he spoke

"Traitor, how can I help you?" He spoke with an all-mighty tone, as the men who were with him put on toughened faces, making crackling sounds with their fists, oblivious of the smile on Saliu's lips which twisted in mocking fashion, as he thought how funny and unfortunate it could be that three men are playing second-fiddle and acting like underpaid bouncers to a person that could be at the same age-grade as their last-born children.

Saliu dropped the drink on the table, blessing the yellowish liquid with some incessant mumbo-jumbo. He then opened it, filling the plastic cups with the drink known as meshango, a dangerously efficient alcoholic, that could knock the sober off a person in twenty minutes, or less. They were deep in drinking, and the yellowish content in the plastic bottle was almost finished. They drank together but shared no laugh, they didn't even say a word. It was as if they knew that the drink was foreplay, the real ish was yet to come. They all waited patiently, stealing occasional glances at Saliu, waiting for him to say what he needed.

Saliu cleared his throat, and they knew he was ready to speak. They all dropped their plastic cups, except The Man, who held his cup close to his lip.

"Blackie Olokpa is back"

"What?" The Man exclaimed in shock, as the cup fell from his hand.