Okereke Favour 1 year ago

Call Girl

A short story about my childhood ambition...The girl was pretty. Her Jerri curls were perfect, and the spaghetti top she wore made her small boobs more visible. I wanted to look like her, to be her.

I often stood in the mirror, trying to pose like her. And when my mother wasn't around, I wore her wigs and lipsticks so that maybe I could imagine myself to be Bolanle. Bolanle was my favorite girl. She always came on Monday. And somehow, Monday became my best day of the week. Every week newspapers printed out pictures of pretty girls like Bolanle, detailing their names and phone numbers. They were called call-girls. I didn't know what that word meant. But it sounded exotic, like the clothes in a fancy boutique mama said I couldn't wear when I asked her to buy some for me. I wanted to be a call girl. To walk around in stilettos, mini skirts, and spaghetti tops. I wanted to be on the front page of every newspaper like Bolanle.

"Ada, you cannot be a call-girl," my father said when I told him of my future ambition " Why not? Just look at her, Papa; I look like her," I countered, showing him Bolanle's picture. I had her dark complexion and slim figure. Papa breathed out, carried me in his arms, and said to me, " Do you remember Rahab in the Bible?" I looked at Papa curiously. What has Rahab got to do with this? Rahab was a prostitute. Bolanle is a pretty girl. " Yes, Papa" " Rahab and your Bolanle are the same. A call-girl is a prostitute" That was the most shocking thing to hear. "But Papa, prostitutes stand on the road and ask for money. Bolanle only takes pretty pictures."

" I know. It's very confusing for you. But look at it this way. You like garri, don't you? "I do, Papa." " You also like fufu, hmm?" " Yes Papa" " Well, garri and fufu come from cassava. You can't hate one and love the other. They are both starches. So also is a call girl and a prostitute. One takes pretty pictures, and the other stands on the road. But, they both do the same work" I couldn't believe it. Bolanle was too pretty to be a prostitute. I held her picture in my hands and cried myself to sleep, knowing I could never be a call girl.


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