CHAPTER 3: WHO AM I?

CHAPTER 3

Few hours later, I was a passenger in his car- he chatted away his life. He kept calling me an angel, something I could never be. Maybe before I left Harry, my ex-husband, one could say I am an angel, but not after. The police said they found Harry's car at his garage, but he was never found. He just disappeared.

Henry was already making me feel loved and I wondered if that was my last stop in my ever revolving world around my past. For months, I have tried to live a decent life as I move from one city to the other- changing names and assuming identities.

Harry left me with massive wealth that could last me for a lifetime. But he disappeared and was never found. Neither his flesh, nor his bones, ever resurfaced.

Harry was a jerk who would beat me at every opportunity. Once, I was left wet, at a cocktail party, after he threw the champagne in his cup, in my face and emptied a whole bottle on me by breaking it on my head, just because another man complimented my beauty and I smiled. He was jealous but influential, so, he usually got away with everything, every offence he had ever meted to me.

I had been called many names for not leaving him, but little did they knew that if I did, I would be left with nothing. I would be poorer than the historic church rat and would have to look over my shoulders as I move.

When I was twenty one, Dave, a detective, arrested me for robbery and the victim wife was all ready to ensure that I rot in jail. Especially since I rendered her husband, whom I shot at the back, spineless and confined to the wheel chair.

Pablo had introduced me to car hijacking. It really did help paid for my new apartment and a fair lifestyle of luxury. I was always the bait. We used so many tactics, ranging from hitch-hiking to acting like my car broke down. Pablo and his guys would then pounce on the unsuspecting driver and BAAAM…. There goes his car. We never fired a single shot, even though our guns were always loaded.

One day, we ran into a problem- we snatched a car belonging to a badass police officer, who fought back. Suddenly, bullets began to fly. The police office and his wife had the upper hand. They shot down three guys and made Pablo beg for his life. The wife, also a police office, suggested that they arrest him, but the husband wanted instant justice. He was sure, one of the hiatoric bad cops. He said they would claim Pablo was shot during the gun battle.

I cowered by the side of my car, hoping to remain unnoticed. I held on to a gun, but couldn’t fire a shot. Nobody taught me to.  I listened the couple argue about Pablo, but it appeared the husband, who insisted on shooting Pablo, was not ready to shift his stand.Pablo started rambling in Spanish- telling me how a coward I am. He said I should do something and save him because he saved me from being hanged, back in Mexico. I wasn’t thinking, I sprang to my feet and started shooting in all direction. Both hands on the grip, eyes closed. Suddenly, there was a hard punch to my head, and I passed out.

I woke up in the cell, with Dave frowning down at me.

‘You’re a tough bitch, you know?’

‘Where am i?’ I asked as my head hammered.

‘Look around, I think your guess couldn’t go wrong. You did realised you shot a police officer, right? You should be thankful that his wife was a nice lady. I would shoot you dead. You’re still gonna spend a lifetime in jail, anyways.’

‘Where’s Pablo?’ I asked as I sat up in my cosy cell.

‘You mean the guy who tried to run when u started to shoot? He’s dead.’

My life flashed in my eyes in seconds. I would definitely rot in jail.

Luckily for me, Dave and Harry would always play poker every weekend; while at the game, Dave talked about the pretty blonde being detained, ready to be charged to court. Dave thought Harry could press some buttons in high places due to his high influence, to secure my release.

Harry came to the precinct the next day and I could swore over and over that he was wowed. I stood with all elegance, holding the iron bars as he walked around like a lion would, around his prey.

Then, he began to ask questions- and since Pablo was dead, I was clear to lie as much as I could. I said, Pablo was holding my mom as a hostage in Mexico, and she would stay alive as long as I play ball and assist in car hijacking.

Harry knew I was lying- I knew that with the way he chuckled. But he wasn’t bothered. He said that Dave said many things about my beauty, and he had to come to the precinct to see for himself. He wasn’t disappointed. But what Dave didn’t tell Henry was that he has been having sex with me in his car for almost a week, ever since I was slammed against the bar. He wanted Harry to secure my realea, so that he could continue.

Dave had come to me, the second night I was locked up and took me to his car to talk. He promised to help me out if only I would allow him have sex with me and if only I promised to always allow him continue, even after he influenced my release. I agreed and we always had sex every night in his car, until I got fed up and said if he wanted more, he should get me released. I knew he had been stalling my being charged to the court by claiming that investigation was ongoing,  even when the bullet matched the number from the gun they got on me!


I told Henry where to stop.

‘You stay in a hotel?’ Henry asked as I asked him to pull over.

‘Yes.’ I replied, unfastening the seatbelt.

‘Can I come in?’ He asked.

I flashed him a fierce look that could have killed him instantly, if it were to be a spear. I knew he wasn’t expecting a ‘No’ for that.

‘No.’ I replied and tried to open the door.

He pulled me back with my arm and smiled. ‘I insist.’ He said.

I was silent, but was already angry. My heart beat fast like a deer on the run, and my breath, hot as a furnace. He must have took that for fear. They all do, but I only didn’t want to hurt him like I did Harry and the rest. I looked at his broken nose and smiled.

‘No.’ I repeated.

His nails dug deep into my skin. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pain. I wanted him to hurt me, so that I can every reason to hurt him harder. It always feel good if they are bad and it makes me guilt-free. It was already dark and the parking lot was deserted- I could get hurt. I opened my eyes and smiled again,

‘Okay. But you cannot stay for the night.’ I said. Hoping that he grabbed the bait. He did.

‘Thank you.’ He said, and released my arm.

He opened the gloves compartment and brought out his gun. He tucked it into his trouser and smile.

‘Just in case you are thinking of acting funny.’ He smiled again and I smiled back. ‘I saw what you did to that big guy at the bar. You are beautiful, but I won’t be taking any chances.’

‘Henry, you don’t need to bring a gun and order for sex- if you want it, all you gotta do is ask.’ I tried to ease him up before he lost his control.

‘Nay, I order and take it by force. It’s like a hobby for me. You won’t understand.’

Oh, I did- you are a psychopath. I said within me. A serial abuser, a rapist and …

‘You know, I visit places like the beach, restaurants, zoos, and so on, to pick up lonely girls. I always ensure I have my way. Some, they agree, some, I force.’

‘You ever killed anyone, Harry?’

‘The name is Henry, bitch.' He said. 'And yes, I have, but not in this town. You realised I have to move from one town to the other.’

‘So do I.’ I tried to remain calm as we climbed the stairs to my apartment.

We walked the stairs in silence. I took the time to reminisce more about Dave and Harry.

End of 3

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CAHPTE 2: WHO AM I?

Chapter 2

‘Hey beautiful,’ a voice shrieked above me.
I looked up, it was a male- tall and not very handsome. He held a bottle of water in his hands as he tried to smile.

‘Hi.’ I replied and looked away, with the hope that he will leave me alone.

I didn’t want any trouble, not anymore- especially from males. My beautiful body has always gotten me into a mess and nothing more. Big hips, skin as a silk, nice dentures, a very intimidating camel toe wedged between my thighs and big boobs with large and pointed nipples. I turned slowly, tried to cover my features by lying face down- but I was wrong, I only succeeded in arousing his sexual interest as I faced him with my great and wide butt.

‘Can I sit beside you?’ He asked. But that was only it, because he already sat in the sands by my side.

I quickly turned around and sat up. For the first time, I saw the smile on his face very clearly- it was beautifully evil. Just like Harry’s, just like Jose’s, just like…no, not Dave. Dave rarely smiles.

‘My name is Henry.’ He said as he stretched out his hands to me.

‘Harry’? I asked.

‘Harry? No, no, Henry. Not Harry. I mean Henry as in…’

‘I get it.’ I said and drew my eyes on his shorts that has bulged with great excitement. I fixed my gaze on him. I shook my head.

‘I’m sorry about that.’ He managed to let out a short laugh. ‘It’s just that…’ he smiled and covered his bulge, ‘you are such an angel with exceptional beauty.’

I nodded, unimpressed. ‘I get that a lot,’ I replied and stood up, ‘but trust me, it never ended up good.’

‘Why is that?’ He asked as he tried to keep up with me as I walked to the bar.

I didn’t bother to reply; I just wished he would leave me be.

I walked to the bar and ordered a martini. He sat beside me and was all over me. Asking me different incoherent questions. I tried hard to shake him off but he was like a glue. Then suddenly, he did something that got my attention. A bulky guy came over to me as lapped me in the ass.

‘Hey, bitch.’ He said in a very deep voice.

He was huge, heavy beard. He wore a dirty jean with, a capped sleeved shirt. He didn’t button up and black shirt he wore underneath sent a great personality message- FUCCK OFF! From the keys dangling in a chain, wore with his jean, I knew he was a truck driver. They have always proven to be aggressive. Even the female ones.

‘I’m fine.’ I replied. ‘And I am not a bitch.’ I replied and looked at Henry, who nodded, slowly.

‘Oh, the bitch has a voice now, right?’ He said.
He leaned to my face as he supported himself with the table. His breathe stinks.

‘Don’t call her a bitch!’ Henry stoop up for me.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ I told him. ‘I can handle the big guy.’ I said with a smile and looked in the big guy’s eyes.

‘You can handle me?’ The guy said and slapped me again in the butt.

‘Hey, what the fucck is your problem?’ Henry stood up again.

I tried to hold him as he made to walk over to the big guy, but he shrugged off my hand like a macho man. I left them to slug it out behind my back, while I focused on my drink. I even heard Henry say he was my boyfriend.

‘Your boyfriend is really sweet ma’am.’ The barman smiled as he refilled my cup.

‘In his dream.’ I smiled back.

‘Go to a tavern, man.’ Henry continued. ‘This is bar in a beach and not your regular tavern in a wretched motel on the highway. Give the lady some …’

Henry came crashing on the table- he bled from his mouth as the punch from the big guy sent him packing. Before I could recover from the sudden shock, the big guy dragged him again and straighten him with another punch. He flew by some inches and rearranged the tables as he slammed against them.

‘You should keep your mouth shut next time. Especially, if you are a fucking pussy.’ Big guy said and landed Henry another punch that sent him whirling. He tried to get hold of the wind to stabilize himself. I almost choke on my drink.

‘You sure he’s not your boyfriend? That guy’s gonna kill him.’ The barman said again.

I stood up, paid for my drinks and walked without any care in the world. Almost half of the customers had turned to photographers. I know YouTube and cheap blogs would have a field day.

‘Hey, hey.’ A lady called out at me. ‘You are gonna leave your boyfriend here?’

‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ I said, sharply.

‘Damn. He’s gonna kill him.’ The lady said as he stood arm in arm, watching Henry’s ass got handed over to him.

Henry wasn’t finding it funny. He couldn’t even land a punch. I dipped my hand in my bag and walked over to the fighting scene. People cheered and big guy left Henry and focused on me as I approached him. I knew he would be wondering what I was up to.

He opened his arms and walked up to meet me, ‘What the hell do you want to do?’ He asked. ‘You better go back before you get hurt, lady.’

As we closed up on each other, I fixed my eyes on his eyes and he took the bait- he fixed his eyes on me too. He never knew what was coming until I sent a kick in his crotch. He grabbed his balls and groaned in surprise. With the hand in the bag that already had the pepper spray, I sprayed his dilated eyes. He crashed back immediately and I grabbed the stool at the bar and crashed it by the side of his head. He slammed on the floor, still, with his hands clamped by his thighs. He was motionless, but breathing.

I turned to Henry, who was by all means surprised, ‘You wanna leave this place or not?’

The people cheered as I led him away.

*************

End of 2

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CHAPTER 1 : WHO AM I

So sorry about the delay...

CHAPTER 1

I closed my eyes and basked in the euphoria of a new world; blanched out the memories that had taken me here- into this new world. A new world indeed. Now that I am here, I could wish that my world had stopped spinning and had spat me here, not to be disturbed again by its incessant itch to move about; in its quest for a new life.

I lay quietly on the sands of the beach and enjoyed the feeling of its warmth against my back. I smiled at my cruel imagination, because as I rocked gently side to side, enjoying the hotness against my skin, I imagined myself as a meat on the grill, being barbecued.

My past is not my problem; at least, not any longer. I have worn it as a veil and covered my shame in its glory. I am somebody else, I want to be someone else, and I must be somebody else. I told myself this, as I have always told myself as I move around, trying to live on.

Life as a beautiful Mexican in America hasn’t been encouraging- almost all American male sees you as a helpless immigrant, who needs to be laid for favour. My natural stature hasn’t been helpful either; I could not hide myself from torturous sexual harassments that floats around me everywhere. No sooner I tried to hid myself, than I got another surprise.

Years ago, when Pablo brought me into the states, he had told me to mingle like I had been here for long.

‘Nobody knows you here. Nobody gives a fuck who you are. All you need to do is shut your mouth and run it around like a faulty car.’ He told me as he took me into a small room inside his house.

I was promised a lot of opportunities, but they never came. Instead, I was used as a decoy in car snatching.

‘If you wanna eat, you work!’ I remembered him shouting at me, two weeks after he showed me to my room.

‘Yes, I wanna work!’ I shouted back. ‘But you never helped me to find one!’

‘You ain’t know shit!’ He replied. ‘You think you is some legal immigrants here, who gon’ walk up into a store and say, ‘hey, I want some job!’’ He mocked me with every gesture. ‘Listen, ninita, it just don’t work that way- it never did!’

I was confused. He had a point. It would be disaster if I was deported back to Mexico. But yet, I needed to do something- to earn a living. I knew Pablo; he is my Uncle. He loved money too much and wouldn’t had fed me for more than a month before start complaining about me being idle. Even though I helped his wife do most of the chores within the house, just to appear useful.

I was wrong- it didn’t take a month for Pablo to come around.

‘Yes, I promised your mama, I’m gonna take care of you, but I didn’t tell her you’re gonna be leeching off me like a fuckin’ parasite!’ He shouted as he came to my room, a week after the initial outburst, after I reminded him of his promises. ‘What you don’t know is, this is America. You may have heard that the streets are paved with gold, but they ain’t. People see you here, they take what they need, Rosa. Because, nobody’s gon’ give ‘em to you. You know why? Ehn?’

I shook my head.

‘Because you are fuckin black!’

‘I am not black.’

‘Oh, what are you now, a fuckin racist?’ He frowned. ‘You think the American give a fuck about what you are? To them, if you ain’t got skin like a florescent,’ he did a lighting gesture, ‘you are nobody- you black. You think you wanna come here and start a Chicano movement like the 60s?'

I looked at him with a frown.

‘Yeah, that’s it. You don’t even know what the Chicano movement is?’ He laughed around the house a little, at my ignorance. ‘I told you, you are ninita, a little girl.’ He did a gesture for a short person. ‘You need to learn how this works.’

I watched him act like he was on stage. He has always been like that. He make gestures with his eyes and hands and walked around demonstrating every word he will say. Uncle Pablo. Short, handsome, jovial but mom has always warned me that he’s very dangerous, but, family means more to him that anyone else. Mom said, he ran to America after he punched a guy to death in Mexico, right in front of her, just for calling her a dog.

‘So, what would you have me do?’ I finally gave in.

‘That’s my niece.’ He smiled broadly and sat beside me. He wrapped he arms around me and started to talk softly. His gold crusted teeth looked like they are rust. ‘You see, Rosa, you have a fine body, a beautiful face. You’re just gonna join me in my business and we make money together.’ He made the money gesture by sliding the thumb of his hand, to and fro, over the other four fingers, in my face.

‘What job?’ I asked.

‘Don’t ask me, Rosa. What you need to know is that you are not going to carry a gun. Simple, huh?’

‘It’s legal, right?’

‘Legal? Your dreams are short, Rosa. You have short dreams of working in a store and collect forty dollars in a week, just for being legal. If you have big dreams, you move with your class. It’s just the natural order. Illegal stuff is for illegal immigrants- that’s what makes America works!’

‘I am not, selling drugs. Pablo.’

‘Drugs? Who the fuck sells drugs?’ Ugh? You… you took me for some low life fools out there? Listen Rosa, like I said…’

‘But it is still illegal, right?’ I asked again but that broke the donkey’s back.

Pablo got mad and asked me to fend for myself he cannot continue to.

After two days of hunger, I went to his small office in his garage. As soon as he saw me enter, he smiled.

‘I’m in.’ I said.

‘Of course, you are in.’ He smiled broadly and came over to where I was standing. ‘Listen ninita…’

‘Don’t call me a little girl, anymore, Pablo.’ I cautioned him.

‘Then don’t call me Pablo, anymore. Call me Papi, your papa. ’He joked as he put his arms around me. ‘You must be very hungry,’ he mocked, ‘let’s go order some pizza, as an appetizer.’

**********************
End of 1

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CHANGE BEGINS WITH YOU!!

When it comes to collection researches and amassing knowledgeables, Nigerians are the most lazy set of people in this world.

Unlike the popular saying, 'do not believe everything you read in the newspapper', Nigerians practically believe everything they read on paper.

Apart from the junk journalism that is the order of the day- (that traits of laziness runs with their blood), the Nigerian media is blessed with unintelligible assertions, bigotry conclusions and ethno-sentimental headliners!!!

The oil producing world is currently in recession, but the only ones surviving are those who have saved for the raining day.

Venezuela, and import-dependent country like ours and currently one of the world largest exporter if crude oil, is currently enjoying the worst time of their history; more than 20,000 of their citizens had to cross over to Columbia to buy food!

What Nigerian wants is to demand for positive change, but they never wanna be part of the process.

Mind you, i never voted for buhari nor Jonathan, but, when Nigerians say, 'Buhari is associates with hardship', it is understandable, why they would day that. People, who called themselves 'elites' and 'stakeholders', expected to be intelligent, would grand press interviews and demand the president to 'reverse his policies and give Nigerians, the change they promised'!

A little reason for our current state could have been understood via a simple research if the previous history and how we found ourselves at this junction.

In 1984/85, when buhari decided to implement the policies he is currently implementing, because at that time, we have started to rely more on importation, people gnashed their teeth and cursed him for creating hardship.

Yet, our paper mills, texile industries, rubber plantations, timbers and so much more, were fading away. People relied more on importation of ready ready-made goods.

And when he was overthrown via a successful coup and IBB installed himself as the president, people rejoice.

IBB came in, just because business wasn't as usual, and the West weren't happy with a young president who was trying to do the right thing. Just like Mugabe and Gaddafi were hated, so was buhari, for trying to make us independent.

SAP, was the foundation of every problem we ever had...it was the epitome and pioneer of corruption. IBB, knowing exactly that he could only be popular by giving impatient Nigerians what they wanted, started subsidizing everything importable. Nigerians were happy that cheap processed foods flooded the market and slowly watched as every indigenous industry died away.

Our naira began to depreciate because we buy from others and strengthened other nations, while ours became weak. Gradually, we died away.

IMF offered loans that could be repaid over a long period but kept us weak and enslaved.

As of today, we have trees but imports paper, toothpick, pencil...

We have rubber trees but plastic companies import raw materials...

Cereal producing companies imports grains..

Our crude oil is exported to be refined and we pay thru the nose to import again!

Corruption is the order of the day. Nothing was allowed to work so as to keep the string hands enriched.

This is madness and no one seems to know why we are really in recession.

Like I said, the oil producing world is currently in recession and the only countries that is surviving, like Saudi Arabia and Canada, are the ones who are well industrialized and or have saved for this day. They are growing more if their foreign reserve by exportation.

We have few dollars in our coffer as foreign reserve, yet, some idiots criticize the ban on some foreign imports that could be sourced locally.

Whether it is the sheer manifestations of the popular low IQs, even among the so called learned, or it is the wanton natuaral characteristic of an average Nigeria to be stoical, that makes them not to understand this little 'mental sums'.

It's simple mathematics for the sensible ones..

If you take out of your money to buy what you have within, you are strengthening the seller and weakening yourself. But when you also produce what u can sell, you will add to your savings and become more richer..

Forcing manufacturers to look within will further enrich the citizens instead of making them poorer. When u import, you enrich the foreigner and sell to a depleted economy after production. When you source within, you enrich the economy and will sell cheaper to the citizens.

The reason why prices are on the roof is because manufacturers are still forcefully importing instead if looking within. They source for dollars illegally and still go ahead to import what they would process that could have gotten within the country- thereby increasing the costs of production.

China and India didn't yank themselves from the grip of the Western world buy going back on their policies, even when they once ranked as one of the poorest countries in the world, decades ago.

The uncanny willingness of most manufacturers, to still opt for importation for production is not based on the imaginary non existing 'substandard local products', but of total corruption that has been a parasite in their everyday thinking!

Nigeria will remain poor if someone doesn't take drastic action!

CHANGE, REALLY BEGINS WITH YOU!!!

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