Juicy mangoes peeled in its attractive fibres will never fail to attract flies. Curiosity, we know, is mostly a trap but which cat can suppress it? The Basic Examination Certificate Examination (BECE) was a day away. Ntwanu had registered me with Jalatu Junior High School. I attended few of their classes but never felt comfortable in their midst. Early Sunday morning leading to the Monday when the exams were to start, I had a call from Teacher Mante. He was a tall, lanky ebony black man with small eyes, long face and a huge nose. One who would get lost at the least appearance of darkness. He wanted me to meet him with some few candidates for a discussion.
“I know a friend who has the English and Pre-Vocational Skills questions. He says they are right under his roof. He is a very connected and trusted man.”
At the mention of this, all of the other candidates smiled. I sat there expressionless. A part of me wanted to get those questions, a part of me kept pricking my conscience on how wrong it was. I mean, I had and still have my limits where sins are concerned and to engage in examination malpractices was not one of them. A part of me thought I could pass with ease while a part didn’t want to take any chances. I was lost in thought when a loud murmuring brought me back into reality.
“All you need to do is to pay 5 cedis each for the first two papers. You know they print a day to the exams right? So he will get the others.”
Some students thought it expensive but it died down and everyone agreed to pay.
“Also, you will need to contribute 2 cedis each to be given to the invigilators so they will relax and help you pass”
The “ei” chorus came and passed as though it never was, few seconds of silence and they all agreed. I sat there, knowing I never agreed but never disagreed. My silence concurring their acceptance and making me guilty like them.
“And what will you do for me?”
The eyes which looked hidden in a forest of lids were set on me. Dressed in trousers and a fitting top which was one of my decent pieces, I felt stupid seeing the lust in his eyes. After he dismissed us, he asked that I see him privately.
“You know you’re a very pretty girl? All you need to pass is you.” He then started advancing towards me like a skilled chameleon. I stood there looking at him, knowing what he was doing and feeling his foolishness. It is very annoying when a man decides to manipulate a girl for sexual favours when the said girl knows his intentions. So I asked him what he wanted and asked that he be as candid as possible.
“Sex. I want to sleep with you, I can do anything for you you know”
“Anything?” The word caught my attention and I saw a man ready to give his respect just for sex, a man skilled at destroying young girls, a man dangerous to the future of most girls’ chastity, so I agreed and followed him to his house.
His single room reeked of alcohol, cigarettes and some form of rot I couldn’t place my hands on. My countenance made him know what I thought about his place. After trying so hard to put the place in order, he opted for a cheap hotel which I consented to.
I pushed him into the bathroom and ordered him to take a very thorough bath. He was first shocked at the commanding tone of my voice, then subdued with intrigue. I saw his manhood which was something so ordinary, so average even as his lust showed its fingerprints in its wake.
After he came to the room from the bathroom, I inspected his body, used a piece of toilet paper to wipe the cave between his rear and buttocks and sent him back again to get clean. Satisfied that he was clean, I pushed him down and massaged the small him with my fingers. I was never going to go down on that pig. Concentrating on his sensitive part, he came over and over again. Judging by his cum, I could see he was getting a lot from many places. Little drops per cum. That 34 year old dangerous bastard!
I sat on him and started riding, he felt pleasured for the first few minutes and went off totally. I got off and looked for his sparking points, I caught his neck, soles of his feet and his midribs. So I rode him again and again. On the fifth round, while panting, he begged for mercy but I didn’t listen. I was bent on teaching him a lesson and was not about to stop for anything. I spiked his drink with a booster and made sure he was trapped in ecstasy.
It was the first time seeing someone’s inner rejection battling with his physical pleasure needs. His eyes were screens of plea and need and I sat on, riding in his punishment all the little girls whose virginity he had stolen, all the little girls he had manipulated for his sexual greed, hoping this lesson will save some green horns from his lustful clutches.
Time must have travelled without prompting me, when I realized what was happening, his “jack” was still standing but he had collapsed. I cleaned up, dressed and stood, torn between leaving him to his fate and calling help. Finally, I settled on leaving. I met a waitress at the main exit and told him to send a note to the one in room 306 as I could not reach him although we had an appointment. I told her I had to leave and will call later because I had another appointment and left.
The examinations were good. Invigilators were lenient, obviously due to the bribe and some students had “apɔ”. I decided to go the good way, writing with my mind and studies and I felt great doing so. I didn’t see Teacher Mante all through, word had it, he was critically ill and had been transferred to the Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital. According to Miss Dua who visited him, he said he had a heart attack due to stress. Well, I was grateful he did not lose his life due to my lesson and so left the school, hoping to return for a result which would help me further my education. At sixteen and a half, I felt I had achieved something real in life and I was grateful to God. I decided to go and give alms to the poor not in Kejetia Market where fake people abound, but in a church using hearsay and personal judgement.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © December 2017
Photo Credit: Google Pics