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A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.
- Coco Chanel

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Second of January! Still a fighter with a smile on my face this bright, beautiful morning. Determined, I am for success. The radiance of smile never leaves me as I beckon passerby to my shop.

From afar, I see a plump figure of a man. Soon, his pot belly becomes visible and then his face. He reveals his brownish teeth as he draws nearer to me.

"Good morning, Ifunanya" he greets and struts into my shop.

"Good morning, Baba Lolade" I reply with a forced smile.

"How are you today?"

"Very good and you?"

"Me?"

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes!"

"I can only be good when you come into my life," he winks his frog-eye.

Eww!

"Haha!" I say dryily.

"How is work?"

"I thank God. At least, I know he is up there helping me. And yours?"

"My work?"

This time I roll my eyes and he sees me do it. Why is this man here?

He let out his throaty laughter and holds his belly. "My work is good, angel!"

"Hmm...." I move around my shop as if searching for something. "Why are you here?" my voice comes out with disdain. I can't hide it. I dislike this old man.

He produces more of his weird laughter and soon, he is right beside me.

"Where is that my green thread sef?" I hop away from him to the next side of the shop.

"Your shop rent is due. You need to pay the bill for this new year or else you will have to leave?"

The thread I had picked earlier, rolls from my hand to the floor. "It is due?"

"Yes! You know I only accept yearly payment. This is a new year. When should I be expecting my money?"

"Your money?"

Now, it's his time to roll his eyes and he makes it obvious just to annoy me. I cringe and suppress a new urge to roll mine.

"Can you give me this month? By next month, the money will be ready. Try to understand. We just entered this year yesterday. Please!" I wail.

"I don't know" he says softly. "Others have paid beforehand. It is remaining you".

"I promise I will pay"

"Oh no, darling! You don't need to stress yourself. You can pay another way," he groans and lustfully rivets his eyes on me.

"Huh?" I ask, playing dumb.

He scurry to me and grips my arm. He takes in sharp breath of me and exhales, his smelly breathe fanning my nostrils.

"Let go of me, sir!" I say levelly.

"You know my address na! Tonight is for me and you," his wet tongue rolls around his lip. "I want dinner to be served by you".

"And what if I don't come?" I yell and with one push, he falls to the ground.

He groans in pain and mumbles curses in Yoruba."If you don't come tonight, just pack your things out of my shop!"

"And if I have the money tomorrow?"

"You won't have it tomorrow!" he holler and rise to his feet. "I'll ruin your life. It's either you come tonight or bye bye to your shop".

"Shut your stupid mouth, old man! I will pay you tomorrow. Get out. Your smelly fat body is occupying precious space. Leave now! Or should I get my broom?" I snarl and glower at him. I only show respect to people that deserves it. Clearly, Babe Lolade doesn't.

"You!" he extend his index finger at me.

"You!" I point at him too. "Leave now!"

He hauls insults at me in Yoruba language and storms out. The moment he left, I freeze as if a bucket of ice was poured on me. Realization dawns on me and I cease my breathe again. I shut the door of my shop with its key and fold myself at a corner. That's where I stay all day crying and scratching the spot on my arm the old man had touched. No man should touch me! I don't want it. I don't want them. I know I should try to get some work done for today but I know I can't get the huge amount Baby Lolade wants. I also know I can't let him touch me. I am sure if he sees my scars he'll run away. But...I also know he is crazy to still force himself on me. He is just as crazy as my uncle. Are all men like this?

When I open the door of my shop, I am shocked to the marrow to see the Queen moon and the starry Fays around her. I sigh and move back into my new safe haven, my shop. I sit on my chair and gaze at my sewing machine: my buddy. Who can I ask for help?

I remember Rita's plea for me to join her 'promising business'. She goes out half-dressed in the night and returns reeking of cigarette and alcohol the next morning. I'm sure I have a good clue what this promising business is.

Is it possible to go to a club and just meet a man willing to pay you money for just talking to him, nothing else? I know my question is very stupid. But I have to take chances to get an answer to it.

Or maybe a job worth two-hundred thousand naira may come my way! I rise to my feet, pick my handbag and lock up the shop.

The walk to the cube was quiet though creepy. You know that in a society there will always be those on top, in the middle or below. My neighborhood is filled with all kind of humans ranked below. We are all struggling to survive hence the small cube called a home. When you walk around this area, you've got to look tough or else the heavily frustrated ones will assault you just to have a good laugh. It's either you are the boss or the one bullied. People keep their distance when they see me. I guess it's because I once showed them some crazy. An old woman that lives a few doors away from Rita's room tried to bully me into doing her biddings. She was surprised that day when I stood firm ready to beat her up. I'm calm. I know I've been used as a punching bag. The memories still hurt. If you step on my toes, I'll use you as a new punching bag. I'm not afraid.

I arrive at the cube safely and in one piece, I am lucky I did. Not all arrive home safely.

I meet Rita rushing into the room, dripping of water with her towel around her body. "You're back!" she exclaims, a cheerful smile fix on her face. "How are you?"

Someone seems to be in a good mood!

"I am surviving," I sigh.

"I'm so glad no one was in the bathroom," she mumbles. "Ifunanya, I have somewhere important to go".

"Your business?"

"Yes!"

I sit down on the wooden stool in the room and the old man's threat replays in my head.

I lose my train of thought when Rita groans. She tries to pull her leather skirt up her thighs but it doesn't budge. Another groan rolls out of her mouth before she forcefully pulls the skirt off. She stomps to her full length mirror and eyes her reflection in it.

"Have I added weight?" she asks and makes a tsk sound.

"Yes," I reply, still wearing that faint smile that keeps me going.

"Omo! My money is talking!" she burst into one of her iconic dance move. A dance where her butt did most of the movement. She throws one of her leg in the air and it hits the mirror. Another crack is added to the previous design. I don't know what her mirror did to her but she hurts it a lot. I mean, just look at it! See the cracks. She should have mercy on it. I'm sure it has been in this cube for years.

She turns to me. "Remind me to buy another mirror," she says.

I nod in reply. I know she won't buy it. She never spends her money in the cube. She doesn't even buy food items- possibly since she eats outside a lot. I know I shouldn't speak bad of the place I now call home. Most especially since Rita is generous to house me in it. Though the room is not spacious, it would be more conducive if only Rita was the neat type. She has dirty clothes that are pleading for the touch and the caress of a soaping water.

"I don't think I'll come home tonight," she announce.

"I understand. A true businesswoman you are," I exclaim.

Rita chucklea and shruga. She strokes her skin and she stares at her naked figure. "Time to go to work!" she declares and rushea to the black polythene bag on the floor. She clads herself in a black gown. No underwear, I note. As always!

That's when I remember my current problem - my lack of money! Luckily, I have a shop to do my tailoring business. Though the enemy wants to snatch it from me. Now, its rent is due. Where can I get a wad of cash at this time? This, the burden of my thought.

I have a clue on what Rita's business is but I choose to ask, "So what's your business like?"

"My business is promising. That's what I'll say," she responds and with a tap on its can, fills the air with her perfume.

"Like what do you do?"

"Satisfy my customer. It's like every other business. It's just that it's more promising," she says with a smug look on her face. Next, she slides her feet into her heels and rise to her new length. "How do I look?"

In one word, 'indecent'.

"Good" I beam.

This is when money speaks. Who am I to annoy my shelterer?

"Thanks" she giggles. Though she was on a lowcut, she has a way of surprising me with her long silky wig.

"I need money!" I confess. "Baba Lolade is asking for his money".

"Is it that yeye man? That fat goat that likes looking at me?"

"Yes" I sigh.

"He wants his money? But the house rent is not due na?"

"Not for the house. I mean my shop," I explain. I am so unlucky. Baba Lolade is also the landlord of this cube.

"Oh!" She hisses. "Eh...Shebi you no wan do my business na? Continue with your tailor one. No money dey am".

"I want to know more about your business"

A smile spreads on her yet to be made up face.

I feel I will regret this soon.

"I want to know more about your business," I repeat.

"I know that you know what business I do. Or are you a fool ni?"

"I'm not. It's prostitution," I spot out, quite blunt.

Every emotion on her face shut down and her expression forces me to retract my words.

"I....I...I...I mean, a promising business. Um...to statisfy customers"

"You are a fool!" she snaps. "No vex me abeg"

"I am so sorry. It was an unfortunate slip of the tongue"

I, at last, stand up from the small stool I've been sitting on and move to her. I step on the remains of her previous cigarette and cringe. The nasty smell of her awful cigarette still hovers in the air. How sweet!

"I'm sorry" I repeat with a voice of fake concern.

"Apology accepted. Do you want to come with me?"

"Hmm..."

"Ah ahan! Just to see how things goes na," she smiles and nips on her bottom lip. "You'll love it".

"Hmm..."

"You might make a little cash without having to do anything," she winks and whirls her waist.

"Okay! Let's go"

"With who?" she snaps all of a sudden.

"With you," my voice echoes in the room and I point to the door. "I want to go with you".

"In what dress? Are we going to church ni?" she snarls.

I cock a brow and examine my outfit, a black long sleeve top and blue jeans. Quite decent! I just pray for a man to just see me and dash me like ten thousand naira for free. I repeat, Free! Ten thousand is even small sef.

"You must change that cloth?" she orders and goes to her close-to-death ancient wardrobe. This cube we call our home has definitely been a shelter for our ancestors in Nigeria. She knows the condition of my body. What's the opposite of flawless? Yes! That's me. She pulled a red short gown with long sleeves and tossed it to me. "Wear it now!"

"No!"

"It covers you na!"

"My legs," I point out.

"They are beautiful so flaunt them," she replies and smiles.

"But...but...but?????"

"If you change your mind now, just pack your bag and leave my house," she hisses. "I have been waiting for you to join my business. Do you think rent is free? Join now or leave?"

"Ah!" I exclaim.

"Yes!"

"Butttttt????"

"Decide now"

I sigh. "Give me the dress!"

Wetin man go do? I need money and money I shall get.

After hours on the road, we arrive at the parking lot of the club. According to Rita, only big men come here. We step out of the uber car and every steps we take, draws us closer to the nightclub. Right leg! Left leg! Right leg! Pause! I stand still.

"Let's go na!" Rita grips my arm and pulls me to the place.

I will surely regret this. Sadly, I'm desperate for money. But am I that desperate to be a slave to money and men?

The moment I step into the dark-litted place, I feel strangulated by the air. A mixture of alcohol, cigarette and something strong that I don't know about. I cough and try to get myself accustom to the smell. We go deeper into the crowd of men, women, boys and girls. What my eyes behold drain the blood in me. We move to the glass counter and Rita settles on a stool. "Whiskey please!" she says. I take my time to scan the place. Noisy, dark but posh.

"Where is Donald?" she asks the male bartender. "Ifunanya, sit down!" She nudges me with her elbow and taps the stool beside her.

"He's somewhere!" he replies in a mischievous tone. "Is this your friend?"

Rita turns to me. "Her?"

"Yes! The sexy girl," he winks at me. I roll my eyes in reply.

"Yeah! Her name is..."

"Rita!" A deep voice calls out. A man comes to her side and hugs her."How are you?"

"Good evening, Donald! I'm good. I want to introduce someone to you," she says.

"Who?"

"Her!" she tips her chin towards me.

A smirk crawls on the man's face and he moves to my side. "Hello, dear! I'm Donald. What's your name?"

I remember Rita's instruction. Give them your English name.

"Dora!" I say.

He pouts. "You're so beautiful".

No dey whine me! I send a stoic look to them.

"Can I introduce you to someone?" he says, trying to sound like the World's nicest fellow. Fake!

I glance at Rita who bobs her head.

"Hmm...Who is that person you want to introduce to me?" I ask as curiosity eats at me. Rita friends but I ignore.

"Come with me!"

"To where?" I grumble.

Rita's face hardens. Donald glances at her and raise a brow.

"I'll take her to him," Rita chuckles nervously and scurry to her feet. She grabs my hand and pulls me back into the crowd. We go up some stairs and into a door. We are in a more quieter room where soft music hums from speakers. I see different faces. More like people that smell of money- a lot of it. We stop at a booth with just a man on it. He smiles at the sight of us and taps on the empty space. "I need company," he beckons. Rita pushes me to sit and she sits down beside me. The young man reeks of alcohol and I scrunch my nose.

"This is the friend I told you about. Treat her well. This is her first time," Rita says softly and pat me.

"First time?" I whisper, horrified by the double meaning in that word. First time in what?

She stands and I grip her hand. A murderous stare is on her face this time. She lowers her head to me and whispers, "Behave or you leave my place!"

Ah! Why is everyone threatening me today?

I gulp and nod. I knew it. I knew I will regret this.

The young man draws closer to me and touches my fingers. I quickly scoot away. A brow shoots up as he regards me. "Don't be scared, sweetie!"

I nod. "Hmm...How....H....How about we don't touch each other but talk?" I stutter, my heart thrashing around my chest.

"No time to talk, baby! There's no time," he drawls and peers at my bare legs.

"The night is long! Let's talk"

"How much do you want for this night?" he says and roll his eyes.

"Two hundred thousand?" I ask in fear of his reply.

"Okay! I'll make the transfer if you make this night great for me"

Oh my goodness! Now, I understand Rita. Yeah, this is a way to make money. A sinful way if you ask me. It's just wrong. I picture my parents' beautiful smile and I imagine it fade away when they see me lose my virginity for money. Money that has no value! It's not worth my honor and self-respect. I know my self-worth. I know who I am and I know a price can't be placed on me. I want to be successful. Not this way but in a respectable manner. I want to prove to others out there that dreams do come true.

I remember one game night in my hometown years back. I wanted to cheat my way to the top in a game and my dad said to me, "There is no shortcut to success. To get to the top, you have to climb stairs. Be patient and climb them slowly. You don't want to stumble down so each step at a time. You'll get to the top eventually". I understand now. He's right. I don't need shortcut to make money. I'll climb the stairs to my success patiently and with determination. I'll never look back. I'll not waver. A woman did say to me years ago in school that your determination determines your destiny. I believe that and I will walk with that. I recall my quote for the day: A girl should be two things: who and what she wants. I want to be a successful fashion designer and not a.....

My thoughts is interrupted when a cold palm touch my neck. I flinch and that's when I turn my gear to flight mode. I rise and dash out of the place.

"Come back here!" The man howls.

A/N: How is the book going? Is it worth your time? Is it interesting? I'm so worried because I'm scared it might not be interesting. Are the quotes helpful to you all?

Thanks for reading. It means a lot.