Hives and Other Drugs

DAY 1 I had just finished downing an elaborate plate of Beans and Garri and decided to lie down after overfeeding. I was still in my nightdress and it was a Saturday morning, so the laziness streak had hung around I had been tossing and turning as I had a truckload of materials on my bed and sleeping on them was just uncomfortable. As I made an attempt to get up and fix this uncomfortable situation, the room seemed like it shook and something pushed me back on the bed. Eh? I tried to get up again and the thing pushed me back again. Ok. I forced myself up. I was sure to fall back so I held on to the bedpost and leaned on the wardrobe to assist my standing. It was then I realized that I was terribly dizzy. I managed to get to the sitting room, then I began calling for help. “Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!” My mother sat down there without attempting to move an inch. “Kilode? (What is it?)” She did not get up so I called for my Daddy instead. I was lying on one of...

Sometime ago, I decided to stop having sex. It was a tough decision as I was endeared to someone who constantly demanded ‘his’ share of body; because I did not understand how intimacy was shown outside of touching and teasing; because I did not know any other way to ‘love’. I wanted to know what life felt like outside of it and if I would find better if I stayed away from it. The thought of sex and the act itself had never given me long-lasting joy. So why stick to it? Sex, around the years when I detested it, was a thing of disgust and a habit at the same time. I hated it because it made me vulnerable, emotional and left me open to all sorts of physical and mental injury. A habit - because of the men who noticed my love for sex and utilized every opportunity to cajole me into wanting it. Unfortunately, they really did leave me wanting. The only reason I opened up was the hope for better, mind-blowing, back-arching, tear filled, fist clenching, out-of-this-world, pillow-screa...

I spent my evenings drinking too much. There was nothing else to do. My best friend lied too often and loneliness held my hand too tight as I lay on my bed moping at the roof of my empty room. I had to indulge myself. Make the evenings worthwhile. Get away from it all. The lies my friend told… the babbling of my parents… the pressure to be what I was not… the cheap men that wanted to a piece of me… ambition… I was too young for it all. I had to get away. One of these evenings cannot be erased from my memory. In ten years, twenty or sixty… It started out beautiful… I had had four little cups of Don Simon; they went down too quickly. Seven hard gulps. I liked to feel woozy quickly, laugh early and walk home late, right before the hard-hearted gateman locked the gate. As I walked towards the punch guy to get a fifth cup, a certain character walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder… I stared hard at the guy. He looked very familiar… “Yes?” “Hi.” He ...

He did not take my top off or make attempts to kiss me all over. He pecked me a few times on the lips and started to take his pants off. Then he helped me take off mine. We were both aware that there was no wetness, yet he wanted in. Hence, it took a while before he could push all of himself in. He had tried and tried, but his partner-in-crime wasn’t hard enough. He patted me on the back and asked me to suck his dick. I did, the way I knew how – slowly and continuously going up and down. I guess I wasn’t doing what he expected of me because he clutched my hair extensions to control the pace. He kept pushing my head down, making me take in the whole length of his veined accomplice. I shut my eyes hard. I could withstand this pain. I could. I fought back throwing up while the lines that separated my upper eyelids from the bottom were laced with tears. Saliva had found its way to my jaw and was slowly making its way to my neck. We were at this for quite a while be...

It started out as a conversation. I and my friend were discontented about our financial status. I talked about how pleasant it would be if I had ‘sufficient’ and steady income. She talked about how she could not bring herself to ask men for money. We talked about the Aristo Chics we knew that summed up enough courage to collect humongous amounts from their customers. God was listening to our conversation. He had to make a comedy out of it, so he provided me what Unilag girls would call ‘opportunity’. Later that day, I was buying yoghurt around Honours when a white jeep honked at me. I walked up to the car and saw that an old man (most likely older than my father) was the driver and only occupant of the vehicle. “Good afternoon Sir”. “Good afternoon my dear. Do you stay in this hostel?” “No Sir.” “Where do you stay?” “Moremi Sir.” I lied, “Is there any problem Sir?” “No my dear. I would just like to know you better. I want you to be my friend” I could not help but laug...