(Episode 02) Puff & Power Girls: Mary Amaka

(Episode 01) Puff & Power Girls: Rosey Ronke

Mary Amaka, July 1997

Mary Amaka walked into the room.

How much had they already drank? I thought to myself. I quickly discarded the idea of asking Ronke. She was drinking, she was occupied.

All the generals looked neat today, coming here was not a bad decision after all. I already took one pill so I was confident I could level with the rest of them. I’m walking with Yasser, arm in arm, all the way to the far end of the room. He usually sits on the arm of the long sofa, the only sofa. Yasser liked to look at me before he spoke. There was a little delay and then he spoke.

“You look great Amaka, you’re late again tonight.”

“Yassssssser,” I said with a long drag.

“Get something to drink.” He said. The conversation was missing eye contact.

“I will,” I responded.

One leg after another, I can feel his eyes on my back. I’m making my way to the mini bar. Ronke is by the bar, watching me, and the waiter, too. There is a display of bottles at the minibar, shiny bottles that scream expensive. All that remains is a decent photographer who charges by the hour, like the ones back at home. But this is no photo shoot. I am not back home doing a job that requires too much legwork and needy men.

The waiter passed me a napkin and then an overly decorated glass cup. By the time I had drunk to the point of the glass being half empty, Ronke’s cocktail glass was already empty. Ronke rose from the bar as soon as I set my glass on the mahogany serving surface. She walked in the direction of the Generals. I turned and faced the room. The Generals were talking politics now.

“We should invite Sani very soon, that man needs some cheerfulness in his life.” One of the men in a suit said.

“Please not until he has signed the forms to be our candidate, or even that other n.d.a with the World Bank.” One of the drunk men wearing a brocade agbada said with his index finger pointing in every direction as if the document were in the room.

The atmosphere was thick with smoke, heavy laughter, and the smell of big boy cigars. At this point, the pill I took started to kick in. I thought to myself: I am not going to deny this, watching the kids will be better than having to watch these grown men. I looked over my shoulder to the right: This new girl seems to be enjoying herself more than I imagined she would. But she will not be the first. Many of the girls who stray into these men's beds say it is about paying the bills, getting the job done. But these Generals make sure they step into their cars first. Car first, refreshment next, then bedroom. Soon it becomes about who is entering big cars and who is not.

I look over my shoulder to the left. I see that Ronke taps Yasser by the shoulder. I think to myself: the deed is done. Yasser will not be going back to Villa tonight. I stand up from the bar and walk towards them My legs move one after another, his gaze breezes in my direction and I walk like his puppet. I can go on with this night after all. I hope the kids are fine and their mom pays me the cheque for being here tonight. I am within his reach, he reaches for my arm and I delay for a moment that will reward me tonight’s punishment. My head starts to feel light, and that is when I wonder: where is Frida?

To be continued…