My mother pushed me into prostitution, now she says she is born-again

When I was 16 years old, and needed to register for my West African Examinations Council (WAEC) and Joint Admission and Matriculation Board (JAMB) examinations, my mother bluntly told me she had no money except I was willing to work for it. “Mummy, please I need money to register for my forthcoming WAEC and JAMB examinations. Entry closes in two weeks time,” I pleaded. “Linda, I don’t have any money to give you.

Since your father died I have worked so hard so that your education does not suffer. But right now, it is either you join me in the business or kiss your education goodbye,” she threatened. I pleaded with her but all my pleas fell on deaf ears. She told me when I am ready to be her partner, she would introduce me to one of her numerous ‘clients’. When I noticed she was not forthcoming, I decided to seek financial assistance from some of her friends but they told me she had warned them not to assist me. When all efforts failed and it was just four days left to the close of the entry, I decided to give in. “Mummy, I am ready to work for my money,” I told her. Instantly, she explained the do’s and don’ts of the business to me and introduced me to one of her clients.

“It was the most horrible day of my life. I was forced and defiled by a man I don’t love nor knew anything about. And since that day, my life has never remained the same.” Let me take you back to how my dear father died because of my mother’s adulterous life style. My mother was a full-time housewife while my dear father toiled all day to make sure I and my mother was comfortable.

Every day I returned from school, I must see a man either coming out of the bedroom with my mother or in a compromising position in the sitting room. And as one man was leaving, another was arriving. Interestingly, she introduces them to me as ‘uncle’. Immediately they arrive, my mother would order me to my room and read my books. As a child, I knew something was not just right but I could not tell my father. Hmmm … my father was a caring dad and loving husband. He calls me ‘my precious’.

He was indeed a good man but for my mother, she was the opposite of what my father thought she was. He thought he was married to a virtuous woman because whenever we are together as a family, she pretends to be a good wife, mother and a God-fearing woman. But in the real sense, she was far from these attributes. So, when I was 11 years old, we were eating dinner when I innocently asked, “Daddy, why is it that I have many uncles?” “What do you mean by many uncles, Linda? Where do you see these uncles my precious?” he asked. Then, my mother kicked my leg under the dining table indicating that I should not speak further.

“O honey, Linda is just a smart girl. She met Biodun and Obus some days back when they came to visit and I introduced them as her uncles instead of calling them by their names,” she explained. But from the look on my father’s face, it was obvious he was not too comfortable with her explanation. The next day, immediately he left for the office, she pulled my lips severally because, according to her, I am too small to talk about what does not concern me and threatened to give me the beating of my life if I tried it next time. One Tuesday morning, my father gave me a long hug which was unusual and advised me to spend my time wisely since I was on vacation before leaving for work.

I was having breakfast at about 9:30 a.m. when my mother said to me, “Linda, hurry up with your food. I am expecting a visitor and I don’t want any disturbance.” I quietly ate and retired to my room. At about 11:15 a.m., I heard a knock on the door. The knock continued for the next two minutes, so, I decided to go and see who was at the door and behold, it was my father. “Daddy, you are home early, what happened?” I asked. “My precious I forgot an important file so I am here to get it. Where is your mother?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know. But, I think she is in the bedroom,” I said. He rushed to the bedroom and the next thing I heard was my father’s voice. “Who is this man? What are you doing with a man in our bedroom?” he yelled. Then, the man came running out holding his clothes and my mother screaming in the room.

Later, she ran out with blood stains on her hands. I quickly ran to check on my father only to see him lying in his pool of blood. I sat by his side and started crying while at the same time, shaking him vigorously to wake up; little did I know that he was dead. About 20 minutes later, my mother came with three men to take away his corpse. “Linda, your father is dead but I did not kill him. He was trying to beat me when he fell and hit his head at the edge of the bed,” she explained. After the untimely death of my father, she went into full-time prostitution. I saw men of different height, size and colour bombard our house. This time they were not in a hurry to leave. They queued up for hours and sometimes they quarrelled over who came first. It was funny but really degrading.

As I grew older, some of the men started making advances at me, some behind my mother and some in her presence. At a point, our house became a brothel of some sort and eventually the landlord evicted us. We got a room-and-parlour apartment and it even got worse because most times, I would have to wait outside for hours when I returned from school until she was through with all her ‘clients’ as she puts it. Any way, after she pushed me into prostitution, we became partners and started sleeping with men in turns and shared the proceeds equally. I passed my exams, gained admission into the university and entered into a higher level of prostitution. I could count the number of times I attended lectures in the five years I was in the university.

I slept with all my male lecturers from my first to final year and for the female lecturers, I settled them financially. The amount I charge a client depends on his social status. Most times, I travel out of campus just to make money sleeping with all kinds of men. In a week, sometimes I make up to N300, 000 – N400,000 and in a month, I could make over a million naira depending on the number and kinds of client I meet. I must say that I have had close shave with death many times all in the name of trying to make money, but somehow, God always saves me. Nevertheless, from prostitution, I bought a house in Lekki and bought two posh cars for my mother and I.

I just graduated but I knew I was not going to do anything with my certificate because the only quick paying job I know is prostitution and I was ready to face it squarely. My mother and I had made conclusions on how we would start recruiting young girls into prostitution when my mother started singing a new song. I got home from one of my numerous trips one afternoon and met my mother reading the Bible. “Mummy, what are you doing? Reading a Bible? When did this one start? Anyway, so when do we start recruiting the girls because everything is ready,” I chuckled. “Linda, I was waiting for you to return.

I am not into prostitution any more. I have found Jesus Christ and I want you to embrace him too. I am now a born-again Christian,” she said. “Na your own you dey talk, mama. When you are ready, please let’s talk,” I told her. But I noticed that she was very serious with her new found faith. She started attending church services regularly, vigils and even became a worker in her church. She tried preaching to me severally but I told her not to waste her time. She told me if God can forgive her, He can also forgive me and provide for us only if we put all our trust in Him. My mother is born-again after she pushed me into prostitution at the tender age of 16 and now she thinks she can just stop me abruptly at age 27 after 11 years in this business?

Impossible! I told her if I must become born-again, she has to restore my virginity, then, we would take it up from there. Anyway, I had started giving becoming born-again a thought when I fell ill recently. The doctor said I tested positive to HIV. Well, that is the height. She has to suffer or be punished for what I am going through right now. I have decided to infect her too so that we would go down together.

What kind of mother would push her daughter into prostitution if not for wickedness?