A token from Grandpa..Chapter 3

Chapter 3

There were times when Emelia had been tempted to blame God for her situation.  She had often wondered whether she still would have become a prostitute if she had had at least a secondary education.  In elementary school, she hadn’t been what you might call a genius but she had been one of those average students who were capable of making it to the university.  When she was in elementary Form Three, she had sat for the Common Entrance Examination and passed.  She was invited to Labone Secondary School but her parents could not afford the cost of sending her to secondary school at that time.  They promised her the following year.  Again, she had passed.  Instead of sending her to school, they had sent her to Accra to learn hairdressing. 

All would have been well if her boss, Mrs. Sarpong, had not had two sons you wouldn’t particularly call ‘angels’.  One of them sneaked into her bedroom one night and raped her.  When she reported it to Mrs. Sarpong, she was bribed to keep her mouth shut.  The other son also raped her while she was taking a shower on a day when they had been left alone together in the house.  Her self-esteem dipped to its lowest nadir.  She began to lose weight and concentration.  Gradually, she learned to accept being paid for sex.  Her rapists brought their friends from school to pay and have sex with her.  She began to make some money and even dared to dream about being able to save enough money to send herself to school.  Then people began to say bad things about her.  She started losing friends too.

One afternoon, while her boss was away on an overseas trip, Emelia ran to stay with one of the regular customers of the beauty salon who had once promised to send her to London to further her education.  Unfortunately, a few months after Emelia had moved in, Auntie Elyssa was arrested and jailed for drug-trafficking.  Most of Auntie Elyssa’s friends were seasoned professionals in the sex trade so they tutored Emelia until she was able to ply the trade on her own.  Several times, she had tried to stop but she just didn’t have the will power to resist the temptation of getting back into it.  In fact, just the day before Kwesi picked her up, she had been to a Deliverance Church Service at which she had promised God with all her heart that she would stop.

            “Wetin you dey tink?”  Kwesi asked, frightening Emelia back to the present.  She smiled and moved over to sit next to him on the bed.

            “I think say you dey sleep.  You ok?”

            “I be ok..  I no wan’ make my bro ask too many questions. E be so why I make like I sleep.”

            “Na so!”

Emelia took off her dress, folded it neatly and dropped it on the couch.  As she was walking over to the bed, she kicked something soft and furry.  She screamed and hugged Kwesi tightly as a dazed mouse dashed uncertainly back and forth between the door and the dresser.  Kwesi pushed her onto the bed, picked a hair brush off the dresser and threw it down hard on the mouse.  Emelia screamed wildly and buried her face in her hands as the brush fell away from the bloody mess that had once been a living and breathing mouse. 

Kwesi picked the dead mouse up with a piece of paper and headed for the door.  He paused suddenly at the door and turned to Emelia, a mischievous smile playing around his lips. 

            “Wetin you dey do?” Emelia asked as Kwesi began to walk towards her, pointing the hand holding the dead mouse at her.  When she realized what his intention was, she began screaming again and backed away until she fell off the bed.  Kwesi sat astride her on the floor and swung the dead mouse from side to side, moving it closer to her face.  She was so frightened she couldn’t even breathe.  She held her left hand out to ward him off while her right hand groped under the bed and touched smooth wood.  It was the handle of an axe.  Kwesi inadvertently dropped the mouse beside her.  As he stretched his hand to pick it up again, she brought the axe down hard on his hand, hardly thinking of what she was doing.  Kwesi let out a deathly scream and rolled onto his side, holding his bleeding hand in agony.

            “You kill me, o you kill me.  I jus’ dey play wid you!”  He said as Emelia picked her dress and ran frantically out the door.  She was too scared to even remember she had to put it on as she ran down the street.

Kwashi, another tenant in the compound that housed Kwesi’s room had been awakened by the screams.  He was just about to peep through Kwesi’s window to catch some of the action when Emelia ran out.  He was slightly disappointed but ran over to the van, knowing that Ato will be in it.

Ato was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he did not see Emelia run, almost naked, across the street and into the night.  But he saw Kwashi gesticulating wildly to draw his attention.  He quickly lowered the volume on the radio and rolled down the window.

            “Your broda,”  Kwashi said breathlessly.  “De woman kill am!”

Ato jumped out of the van and ran madly after Kwashi.

 TO BE CONTINUED.