Sugar Daddy✔️

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"Wetin dey do the man sef?"

"Me I don't know at all." My voice sounds weird as I talk to her. It's something new I am experiencing. An emotion I know for certain that I am not the most familiar with.

Am I nervous?

"Oya click on the deal he agreed to."

"So this is the new one, but I will just tell you about the former one." I incline my shoulders and body towards her fully. "Wait, isn't that my singlet?" I raise an eyebrow at the pink cotton top that is being stretched out of its limit.

"Ehn let's talk about that later. Gist me first."

"If that thing doesn't size my small chest again because of your heavy breasts, you will go and buy new one." I comment after giving her a hard look. She shines her teeth at me in return. "So like a day before you went to beat Ola which is Wednesday, I received an alert of a sugar daddy wanting my services."

"Mhm." She relaxes her head on her palms and gets into a more comfortable position.

"The only thing about the deal is the man kept asking me if I would have sex with him for different amounts of money. At first it was 300,000 Naira per day and I said no of course. Then yesterday he made it 500,000 Naira, and you know how I said it was a new sugar daddy."

"I remember that. After we escaped with the drinks right?"

"Yes, I had thought it was a new one but it turned out to be just the same man offering another deal." I pause to see if she has been listening attentively.

"Go on." She urges me, her ears perked up like a rabbit's.

"Today though, he offered one million Naira to try to convince me to allow sexual intercourse in my rules..."

"One million Naira?" Dessy literally jumps off the bed. "Shey be the both of you are mad right? Aren't you supposed to be happy that someone is offering that much for you to just have sex with them? And why is the he-goat offering that much? No sugar daddy ever offers that much per day."

"I know." I can see my brow wrinkling in the reflection of myself on the dark screen of the laptop that has gone to sleep. I quickly smoothen it out with my fingers, knowing that frowning makes people uglier. Of everything I can afford, becoming unattractive is not one of them as it is the only thing that brings me cash. 

"So..." my only friend stares at me intensely. "You are not taking the deal, are you?"

"No." I do not have to think of the question twice. Even though I am not a virgin, my promise to myself to never warm a married man's bed remains unchanged. If I can't keep a promise to myself, who then can I do so to?

God? The old man does not even answer me sometimes.

Trust me, I know God exists and I think I also know He loves me. But sometimes I just can't help but ponder on possible reasons why He would do so. He's too good for a sinner like me and it makes me feel utter shame and guilt when I come to him for a request.

No, really...what should a fraud pray to God for? Success? Protection? Happiness? I'm not sure anymore. At times, I'm not sure I deserve anything good.

The only thing I've always been positive of is my will to survive no matter what I have to do. But now, I'm not so convinced anymore.

Does God truly care about someone like me?

I would ask someone about my questions, but I have no one I wish to turn to.

The outside world is not close to friendly and even though it took long, I have come to know that people are amazing hypocrites as a plain fact of life. They give you advice when they are the ones in dire need of it and they more than always are desperate to prove that they are better than someone else when they honestly are not.

I hardly listen to anyone anymore because for most, it is plain as daylight that their words are lies and their actions only pay lip service. All they crave is an opportunity to judge without making an effort to understand those on the receiving end of their discernments.

I don't give them enough to judge. Yet, they judge. This is why it amuses me when anyone compliments me on being beautiful as I know their minds would change if they knew who I was.

What baffles me however is why do people find it so complicated to mind their own businesses? They say I'm pretty, but then they worry when I use it to my advantage.

Let me be me.

"Did you decline the offer already?" Dessy squints at the laptop's screen.

"Yes of course. Not too long ago."

"Then why is there still a proposal there?"

"What?" My attention flies back to the bright display. "500,000 Naira per day without sex, any activities relating to rituals or actions that could have medical implications." I read aloud then over again, my brain clouding as I try to come up with a reason for the persistent propositions.

"That's a good deal." Dessy says behind me. "But it's kind of suspicious sha."

"That's what I am thinking too." I drag my palms down my face, pulling my bottom lip a bit too far that it hurt a little.

"Just accept it."

"Are you sure?" I turn to her but my phone lights up, catching my attention. "It's the bank." Great timing. I sigh deeply. "They want me to pay back their loans."

"Oh Lord. So soon?"

"Yes." I feel deflated. Business for me has not been moving finely for the longest time. Most sugar daddies do not favour a sugar baby who wishes not to satisfy their sexual desires and my lack of offers was starting to tell on my savings. "I think I have to accept the offer.  I need to." I say, trying hard to convince myself that I'm making the right decision as I click on the "accept" button.

A message comes in almost immediately informing me of my first appointment.

"It says I should meet up with him on Sunday and it gives me a number I should call him on with..." I pick at the numbers scrambled around at a loss of what they mean. "Is this not a recharge card?" I tap on Dessy who has retired to her phone.

"It looks so."

My hands sweat profusely, my eyes twitch and my stomach rolls around like a ship on roaring waves.

Yes. I am nervous.