THE CONFLICT III (Reader's Discretion advised)

'See, I usually don't treat customers good like this but I like you, Oga Man of God, you remind me of my first boyfriend...and I like fair guys!'

She kissed me on the lip, slowly. All the resistance and traces of common sense began to seep out; faster than water from a rafia basket!

Almost instinctively, my hands began to transverse her body in response to her, as we drank deep of our midnight salivas. Without warning, I threw her off me unto the bed and made to go over her when she broke out laughing again. I was confused.

'Did I do something wrong?'

The laughter intensified in response to my question. Somehow, it seemed my puzzled look fueled her laughter the more. I shifted back to my edge of the bed and sat down. I watched her continue for a while. Hormones had begun to take a nose dive.

'Are you done?' I was beginning to get slightly irritated.

She got herself together and walked up to the switch and turned on the room lights before walking back. She stood at the foot of the bed with her hands akimbo, the mischievous smile across her face again. I could make out, a glistening tear drop at the corner of both her eyes, obviously from the laughter .

'I'm sorry, I'm acting this way. I usually don't play with customers like this... No vex.'

I'm sure she could read no particular expression from my face; no anger, no happiness. By this time, the thoughts of not continuing were coming back stronger from every direction.

'Oya see why I laughed', she continued, 'The way you just went from calm, uncle first timer to George of the jungle, grabbing and flinging me--how is it doing you?' She began to chuckle again.

'I was surprised. So even Reverend gentlemen know this kind of thing?'

'I'm not a Reverend' I replied simply. I had put on a trouser and was trying to get a t-shirt from my bag. The air-conditioning effect had grown stronger.

'But you said, you're a man of God na?' she queried. She could tell I was done as I put on the t-shirt and another long sleeved check shirt on top of that before getting back into the bed.

'Are you angry? We can continue oh...' she walked to my side of the bed and sat at the edge, halfway up, facing me. I wasn't angry. I guess an average customer would be angry but I genuinely wasn't. In fact, I was glad I wasn't going to go through with it.

'What is your name and how old are you?'

'Kyle. I'm 22!'

'Wow, nice name' I said even though I knew the name was probably an operational alias. Which parent in Nigeria, 22 years ago was thinking of giving a child Kyle? The hard economy and cost of garri wouldn't even allow you think in that direction.

'So you've still not answered my question, why did you call yourself a man of God, at first?'

'It's a nickname people gave me because I was always preaching. I'm not a pastor but I'm a worker in church and a Christian.'

'So how come you are here, brother preacher man and what is your own name?'

'Long story. I'm Kene, even before I got born again in my late teens during my first year in the university, I was what you could call moralist. But from my conversion, I preached a lot till I was given the nickname, man of God.

During my service year, I met a nice girl who served with me at my place of posting. We were the only 2 non-indigenes in the small community so we found comfort in each other's company and naturally grew close. I eventually got involved with this my friend sexually. I was so disappointed in myself afterwards, that I did a 5-day dry fast, read lots of Scriptures, prayed and cried to make up. From the suffering of penance I put myself through, I felt better a while later, especially when I fell sick from the bodily exertion, I felt I had paid for my errors.

We got into abstinence, however our abstinence was short lived. It became a vicious cycle of fall, penance and fall again. Gradually, the guilt diminished but my unbridled passions stayed. When we passed out, we lost contact. I returned to base but desire had awakened in me.'

I had just given a brief biography of worst secrets of my life to a total stranger, it was odd too, that I somehow felt better that someone was hearing this.

'So, do you still serve in your church?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Seeing this is not a one-off event, do you consider yourself a hypocrite?' she asked.

Her question hit it, Bullseye. I had often fought with myself over the same issue, I had to create classes of hypocrisy, in my mind and put myself in one- a less evil class. I loved what life I had as a Christian, I agreed with the lifestyle but I had run out of patience with myself, over the repeated failings. I often wondered if God was of same temperament with me and had done same too. I sidestepped her question and turned the spotlight back on her.

'Enough about me, you tell me about you, why is a beautiful, young girl like you in this trade?'

For the next 4 hours, we sat and talked. It was as though we had known each other, all these years. She shared how her 3 of her male cousins, living in the same extended family house initiated the events that led her foray into the world of sex trade when she was just 11 years. She was living in her mother's family house with many cousins and two other of her step-siblings; each child from a different man, all born out of wedlock.

The cousins who molested her were all older; an 18 year old, a 23 year old and one older than the other two- she didn't know his age. This one would send for her to come and clean his apartment and then abuse her. They all did so repeatedly and independent of each other. The first aunt she tried reporting to gave her the beating of her life. Her mom wasn't always around, not like she imagined she would react differently.

At a point, as she grew, she owned the acts of abuse and with that came a strange desire to sleep with older men. A desire which she soon found plenty avenues for expression of in their seedy neighborhood. This one came with benefits, she got cash and gifts even though that wasn't her aim at first. She only began actively collecting cash because of upkeep at school. That was her unofficial baptism into prostitution.

'Wait, you mean you were sleeping with old men casually, not to meet a financial need... As in, just like that?' I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Why would a young beautiful girl live like that? I was looking at this young, pretty girl sitting opposite me and trying to understand it.

'I asked myself the same question too?' She said softly. For the first time, she seemed shy and embarrassed, she looked into her palms as she spoke. 'I didn't like the men as such, but when the urge came, I'd be driven till I satiated the voices in my head. Kene, I feel like a prisoner in my own body.'

I looked into her eyes, they had become red and glistened with tears she was holding back.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Two people in a mess. One needs salvation the other insight into what is.