BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE 3

ESTELLE AND ESTELLE

Mother’s attitude about the Nonso episode really upset me. I didn’t think she had done any better than me. My father and Danjuma weren’t indicative of her better judgement. She had no right to act that whole “look what you did to yourself because you didn’t have me to direct you” way. It really pissed me off. My chance for revenge came soon enough. Mother went out to run errands and I had no lectures that Friday morning. As soon as her car drove out the gate, I entered her room. Dangana wasn’t asleep in bed like I thought, he was having a shower. As I stepped naked into the shower cubicle with him, he seemed frozen. He had attempted to touch me several times after that night but each time, I fought him off and threatened to let mother know. He’d left me alone after a short while but I noticed his eyes on me frequently. Mother noticed too and hardly ever left us both alone. That day was a rare occurrence. I told him mother was out as I pressed my body to his. He was like a man possessed. On and on and on we went only stopping for Dangana to call mother to make sure she wasn’t coming back any time soon. We went from the bathroom to their bed and on the single sofa in their room. I couldn’t believe how much of a kick it turned out to be. Having sex with my mother’s lover was a trip and some.

One day she came into my bathroom while I was getting ready to go and see a “friend”. She hung around a little uncertainly as I washed up my privates with alum for the tightening effect. I kind of knew why she was there and I knew exactly what I would say to her. Dangana had become stupid of late and would even try to cup a feel with mother right there in a room.

“Is Dangana bothering you?”

“I don’t know what that means but yes mother, I am sleeping with him.”

Her only reaction was an involuntary twitch at the corner of her mouth....but I saw beyond that as I brazenly applied shear butter mixed with Makari on my naked body. I saw the pain in her eyes and it gave me joy. She didn’t say a word. I didn’t see Dangana until a little over a week later when I saw his obituary in a national daily. We never spoke about it but I knew that she knew that I knew that she had a hand in his death. That was that for Dangana in our lives.

Men are such a bother. For some months after,  I stayed away from sex for pleasure. Mother and I resumed our uneasy business relationship; she had most of Dangana’s links. I became more and more aware of a particular request that mother always turned down; me and another girl, with a “friend”. I wondered why. There was little that I hadn’t done or hadn’t been done to me by “friends” so why was this different. I asked mother and her answer sealed it for me.

“It’s a sin” she said with her face crinkled up in disgust.

Within a few days, I had picked up a girl from the salon. Again the thought of hurting mother gave the situation more appeal that it was actually worth to me. I also believed that I found where I belong. I’m not a lesbian, neither am I bi sexual but as long as I could hurt mother and get some emotion free, uncomplicated sexual satisfaction, I was down with it. It became my habit to have brief intense affairs with women. I chose women who were married as they were least likely to go yakking. My product value wasn’t any less with them, they strove to please me.

When I was twenty four I met Maimuna. I had become tired of my randomness and needed a steady lover and Maimuna was ideal. The pretty quiet ministers’ wife was crazy about me. I liked her well enough and was comfortable with her.

ESTELLE AND BRIGADIER SAMBO

He was one of my best "friends". Mother called him my "resting place". Never has there been a man who worshipped the very ground I walked on like Musa Sambo, the chief of army staff. He spoilt me and mother stupid. Mother suddenly hit upon the smart idea that I become his third wife. I didn't mind, an end to "friends" and the man worshiped me. I had it all under control. Sadly, despite continuous prodding from mum and I, there was no talk of marriage.

In came the black prophet. Mum claimed that he had helped my appeal all these years. He assured me that Musa was mine if I really wanted him. I did; I was ready to settle down. A week before I was to return to find out what the "spirits" wanted from me to make Musa mine, the selfish bitch that is my mother goes and has a heart attack in the middle of the night. I found her stone cold dead the next morning. How inconsiderate. As usual she had acted with just herself in mind. I buried her the next day without much ado as I'm sure she would have wanted. She had no family so I was well and truly alone. I bemoaned my fate and actually drove myself ill from worrying about handling money and responsibilities myself. Mother had taken care of all that and I really did not know what to do with all that business. Neither did I care; I am a beautiful person that should be taken care of. In the next six months I would turn twenty five and still unmarried. That was already one year behind target. I did not want that.

TO BE CONTINUED....