Ashawo Diaries (Tales of Adwoa Attaa) Chapter 25 (18+)

A pot that is determined to break can do so at the slightest heat. Dansoa sprawled on the hardened tiled floor with head raised looking at me. Pedro ordered “abrirla!” Although I didn’t understand what it meant, I knew it was an order for something bad. The three cruel men started tearing her clothes apart in front of all of us as she tried to wriggle her way out. I shivered as tears welled up in my eyes when they met hers. She was shouting and begging to no avail. There was nothing like foreplay for her. The first man, probably in his late thirties just thrusted into her like an axe cutting into wood. Blood just oozed out. The fear on the faces of the other seven girls told me they would not even try to lift a finger. I closed my eyes and just let the tears flow. I tried to shut out her screams to no avail so opened my eyes to see one’s cock heading towards her mouth. It was shoved into it like a hole. I was about to tell her in the local parlance to be calm but before it came out of my mouth, she had bitten the penis of the second man. She nearly bit it off. As he cried like a beaten brute, the others stopped fucking her and started beating her. Pedro joined in.

Suddenly, Dansoa could not shout again. Blows to her face, breasts, slaps, head banging against the tiles, fists shoving into her like her little lady was nothing but a sack. Pedro’s eyes caught mine, then he raised his gun, shot the man whose penis was hanging. His gaze still held mine. The others were more furious after the shot, and the brutal sex turned worse until she laid there like a corpse. I thought she had died. I screamed like the world was about to end and charged into Pedro like a mad cow. He fell under my fists and I started hitting him. I guess even the two men left were at a loss for words and action so looked on as I bashed the monster. Pedro tried to get me off with blows but I dodged them all and continued hitting him until blood gushed from his brows. I don’t know how long my savagery lasted, but just when I was about to tear off his penis, after hitting it with my fist for over a minute, I heard a gunshot. Felt something heavy on me, and realized Dansoa had taken a bullet meant for me. In my arms, I could not look at the faint smile that lined up her mouth before she gave up her ghost. I put her down and charged on the one who shot at her. He tried to shoot back but I guess the bullets were finished. I went straight at him as though targeting his face. He used his arms to cover his face as I hit his scrotum hard.

He fell over and started exchanging blows with me. I felt no pain, I just went crazy. The other girls joined in the fight when they realized we could take them on. One girl picked a wooden bat and hit the head of the other man, another picked a huge painting and hit Pedro’s head with it. We went crazy and nearly killed the three but for the intervention of about ten men. They were well built and armed. By the time they got there, I had almost squashed the scrotum of the one who shot and killed Dansoa. They handcuffed all of us after a warning shot and gave us some injections. I tried to stay awake but just blacked out when we were being dragged through a door we never knew existed in the house. 

The pain was severe. More like a back pain, a headache, pain in my loins, legs… I was tied to a pole in the middle of what seemed like an abandoned warehouse. My whole body was in pain. I tried to recollect what had happened only to have a blank. I looked around but there was no one around. I thought of what to do but there was practically nothing. My legs and hands were all tied as I stood by the pole, a little wriggle sent such sharp pains through me, I could barely breathe. So I stood there thinking. I thought of what to do in order to break free or maintain my dignity even if I would be killed. The best option was to be quiet and wait instead of shouting like a coward. So I stood still with my head bowed. I felt a light approaching but didn’t move until a hand held my chin to lift my head. The man was startled when I looked straight at him without fear. He stepped back and started speaking Spanish to me. I didn’t as much as try to open my mouth. I just wanted to remember what was happening. I knew I was a month from my seventeenth birthday, remembered my Ghanaian life but not what brought me here. Suddenly, Pedro was wheeled in and everything came back to me. The trick, Dansoa’s death, the rebellion and I felt like strangling him. 

Pedro was in a bad shape. He was in a wheel chair looking all dishevelled, one eye shut, the other badly bruised. He was in a neck collar and his feet continually shook. He had a look of fear as he looked at me and I am sure my murderous intent towards him was communicated well. There was a pleasant looking man by his side who looked amused at the relationship between Pedro and I.

“Miss, my name is Issidro. Sorry for all the problems.” He ordered that I be untied and given some water. I took the water and looked at him in wait. “I am Pedro’s boss. Sorry things went so badly. It was pure miscommunication.” I guess he was expecting something from me but I gave him no pleasure. I kept an unreadable countenance and just watched him, making him nervous. 

“I have a proposition for you. Miss, I can employ you to be a manager in one of my territories. I like that you are fearless, bold, strong and beautiful. I know you have experience in this business from the way you move. I will pay you more than you will ever need if you will take up the position.” My first instinct was to spit on his face but I restrained myself. He was shocked I was not affected by his offer. I thought of how I could deceive girls in the name of travelling just to enslave them in a sex trade on another man’s man. How could God ever forgive me for that? I was now getting to seventeen years old and had committed so much sin. I couldn’t add the guilt of ruining innocent lives to it. But I needed to get out in order to find a way of saving at least, my country folks. So I disengaged my eyes from his in what looked like a surrender. 

Issidro spoke calmly to his people and within minutes, I was in a classy car heading to a neighborhood I didn’t even know. It sure was a beautiful neighborhood. I was told by my driver we were going to Roma, where my apartment was waiting. It was a beautiful two storey house painted blue and white. The flowers in front of the house gave it a cosy look. Its ash tiled roof gave it some air of annoyance I couldn’t explain. Maybe because of Ms. Barwuah’s explanation that ash, apart from its connotation of wisdom, also had an expression of old age in a major sense. So more like the end. I hoped the end had not come for me. I had four strong security guards. They obviously rode behind my car. I entered and saw everything arranged just for me, hall, clothes in wardrobe, shoes, perfumes etc… The bathroom was white tiled, beautiful towels were displayed in something like a glass wardrobe. Water heater, everything anyone could think of was there but I just broke down in tears at the thought of Dansoa. I felt so guilty. Maybe I should have left her to go through the first phase. Her deflowering wouldn’t have been so bad. Her man wasn’t cruel. He was sweet by the standards of the work. Why couldn’t I mind my own business? How could I have interfered in hers to cause her death? I thought I was doing her good but I ended up killing her. I tried to pray but felt God had closed his ears, and rightly so. I thought of my mother, father and somehow, was glad I had a brother and not a sister. I was under the shower for over four hours, until I heard someone knocking on the door. I wiped myself clean, put on a night wear which I found there and stepped out. 

My eyes met the eyes, eyes of eagles. Eyes I thought I had known for a long time but impossible to link to source. I stood there frozen at the figure carrying those eyes. Suddenly, I felt I was not alone. The world continually surprised the young me.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Feb. 1, 2018

Photo Credit: Google Pics

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