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NNENNA'S POV

I ignore Nnabuihe's calls even after I reach the hotel and begin my shift. This would be my first night working at the bar and club area and I'm excited so far. Nothing much happens over there except standing and waiting on the customers' orders.

There's loud music, a lot of dancing and so much eating. There's meat, wines and vegetables of all sorts. I decided at this point that I liked the club-bar area better. No, rephrase that, I liked the leftovers better. On a scale of one to ten, at least six plates had a reasonable portion of food remaining.

The part I hated, you could easily guess is the swirling and twisting on the pole by half-naked ladies. It repulsed me to watch them snaking on poles in nothing but bra and bumshorts. But I endured that, for the sake of all the food I'd have to gather later. By 10:30 pm to almost 11 pm the bar had started clearing out. The crowd started dispersing.

I and a few other coworkers started clearing out the tables of dishes and bottles. There was one more table left but the customer did not seem to be in a hurry to leave. I hesitated to see if any other coworker would go ahead to clear that table but I found them all clustered in the counter area.

Exhaling wearily then making my way towards the man seated at the left end of the area, seemed to be the longest seven seconds of my day. To make matters worse, he was staring directly at me. I pretended to not care and instead masked my fears behind a stoic expression.

"Excuse me, young lady," he called after me as soon as I picked up the tray. Just as I knew he would. I swallowed a sigh and turned back to look at him.

"Can I know your name?" he requested.

'Telling you my name is not in my job description, sir,' I wanted to respond, instead I told him —coldly for effect.

"That's a good name. So, can I have your number. You know so we can talk and get to know each other more?" he requested.

I knew why actually he wanted my number but I didn't want to give him. And I couldn't respond in the way I wanted to for fear of getting into trouble with the management.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have phone for now sir." I averted directly looking at him.

His sluggish sigh and thoughtful gaze at me under the disco lights told me he wasn't buying my excuse but I wasn't in the mood to oblige him anyways.

"Okay, no problem. I will see you some other time, then?"

I just nodded in response, already irritated by the way his eyes were undressing me.
After he left, I hurriedly walked to the convenience room to check myself again. Although the black trouser I was wearing tonight hugged my waist and buttocks, it wasn't revealing anything but at this point, I hated the way it showed my contours.

I hurried back to finish my work for tonight so I can sign out. Luckily, the club-bar area usually closed at 12 midnight, so any staff who worked the night shift there could decide to go home. Unlike the lodging and dining sector of the hotel which worked round the clock.

I met my coworkers chipping and exchanging gists about tonight. Two of the girls who'd danced the pole tonight were bragging about leaving with almost ten to twenty thousand. I was stunned to learn that it was even possible. Here I was, struggling my way every night only to make twenty-five thousand naira after thirty days excluding the shifts. And girls my age were making same amount in just one night.

What more when they perform more than a night?

I was pained that my hard work and diligence wasn't paying much. I needed much more than what I earn. Eventually, I left the club with a heavy heart. I stayed in the staff quarters until 5 am before boarding a taxi to my hostel.

I just crashed on the mattress as soon as I slammed the door and closed my eyes, finally giving in to the weariness that has been tugging at my bones. When I opened my eyes again, it was daylight. I checked the time on my phone —8: 13 am, but I still wanted to sleep some more.

Recalling the heap of dirty clothes that awaited me, I hissed and dragged myself off the foam. Helen hasn't come in yet and sincerely, I couldn't care about what she did with her life. I gathered my clothes in a bucket and took them outside to fetch some water since the tap in the bathroom was no longer functional.

"Ah ah," I remarked on seeing the padlock hinged to the tap.

"Madam, since you no wan pay utility bills na. You go go outside fetch the water wey you go dey use." Chuka, the hostel's VP attacked me.

I stared at him in shock and deliberated on my next line of action. I couldn't rebuke him neither could I try to argue in my favour, the only thing that might work at this moment would be pleading with him.

"Oga Chuks, abeg na. See eh, I don find job and I go dey pay am. In fact, I will give you the money now just allow me to fetch at least one bucket."

He shook his head. “No, that would be unfair to the other students that have been banned from using this tap too since they refused to pay the five hundred naira. You no dey meeting last night?”

“No, I_”

“Na una dey cause am nah!” he cut in. “When meeting is fixed, people like you won't attend later when decisions are taken, you people will be the first to be against it.”

“Ah! No, Oga Chuks...” I tried reasoning with him but he wasn't willing to understand. He walked out of the gate without sparing me another glance.

I stood —transfixed at the same place, contemplating whether to go and beg for water from one of the neighbours or fetch outside like he suggested. In the end, I took two of the saclux paint buckets I owned and went across the street to fetch water.

It was unsettling seeing as I was the only female who fetched water from the man. But I carried my bucket steadily regardless and paid him the sum of fifty naira for both buckets. If I continued at this pace for one month I would have spent more than the five hundred naira demanded by those unfortunate excos.

Therefore, I resolved to immediately pay for that of next month the minute my salary comes in. I do not want stories that touch.

By the time I finished washing, I knew I needed to eat. That was when I remembered the fried fish and plantains I stuffed in a container and put into my bag last night. I did that on my way to the convenience room so no one had caught me escaping with the tray last night.

Without heating them again, I dissected both fish tails and stuffed them into my mouth, then did the same with the plantains and drank water after that. Breakfast has been taken care of, now I have to worry about dinner because lunch would definitely be nothing more than biscuits or Gala sausage.
I decided to surf through my phone while running a hand on my stomach and waiting for the food to digest. Then I came across a message from Nnabuihe.

I clicked to open and saw he'd sent two actually.

You aren't picking your calls, do you remember the auction sales I told you about?

I let out a gasp upon recalling the sales auction he mentioned to me. It'd be holding today.
The second one read;

Are you going to come or your schedule is tight? So, I can select the good ones and keep aside for you.

How thoughtful! I remembered telling him I don't know how busy I'd be then due to the students' week and having to round off the semester's work in preparation of exams. The truth was that I didn't know if I'd have enough money to buy the books, I barely survived from the last batch I bought but books were half my life.

I couldn't stand the thought of doing nothing while knowing that someone out there might be laying hands on a book that should be mine. I went over the samples he sent to me via WhatsApp and ticked the titles I preferred. Thankfully, he was online and replied almost immediately.

I hastily dressed in black dungarees with a red polo inside and covered my untidy hair with a face-cap. Then headed to school. I hadn't planned to enter the school compounds but because of this auction, I must. I stopped at an ATM stand to withdraw some cash as I was going to need that.

I withdrew 2500 naira knowing that the balance should be around or close to eight thousand naira left.

When I saw Nnabuihe, he was focused on wrapping the orders by a customer that he didn't look up at me after I got under their umbrella stand.

“Welcome ma. What would you like from us today? Any author or titles we might help you pick?” he said while neatly gluing the paper wrap.

“I came on recommendation,” I responded.

That caught his attention. He looked up and smiled at me and in that moment I didn't know how I felt. But, I liked it.

“Do you have my stack?” I said.

“Nye m obere oge,” he replied and continued wrapping. When he was done, he handed it to the other girl and she thanked him as she left.

It was just the two of us.

“Yes, your stack,” he said as if reminding himself before bending down to retrieve some books.

I scrutinized each book. They were not neat or new but weren't torn or bastardized either. Then I went over their blurbs to make sure I didn't want to keep back any. A thousand hundred naira for thrift books seemed to be to much a price to pay considering I still have to transport to and fro work until the end of the month.

I didn't recognize any of the authors in the stack I selected but I saw books by Joyce Meyer, Colleen Hoover and Judith McNaught in hard copies displayed on a rack.

“What about those?” I pointed to the stand beside him.

“No, these books are sold at their actual retail prices. Books by CoHo and Joyce are from 6500...”

“Okay, don't worry.” I cut in, not willing to hear the rest of what he has to say. With that kind of money, I would feed myself for almost two weeks.

“Nna eh, the rate at which the prices of fictional books are skyrocketing these days, I thought they say people don't read them.”

He chuckled. “You should check out nonfictional then.”

“At least, before I finish reading these five copies I'd know if I will buy again. When will you guys do this sort of thing again?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don't know yet. Maybe next year. It depends if and when we have lots of old books at the store.”

“Hmm, ngwanu take your money.” I outstrechted my right arm and placed one thousand and one hundred naira notes in his palm.

“So, like this that I want to write my life-story one day, people will make me rich by patronizing me abi?”

“Maybe, you could never tell.”

I meant that as a joke but with how serious he sounded when he replied, I started to put more thought into that. Maybe one day, just one day, I would have my book out there —in hardcopy for the world to read.

As I turned my back to leave, I decided to check the time. I would prefer to be in my room when Helen came home today, not the other way around.

I checked the side pockets of the dungaree, both sides were flat. It couldn't be possible. I stuck my hands in to ascertain and met with emptiness.

My heart started racing at the thought of losing my phone. I looked at the table and ransacked through the package in my hand, yet it was no where to be found.

Nnabuihe must have noticed the agitation on my face that he asked if something was wrong.

“My phone...I came out with it.” I told him.

“Are you sure? Did you go to anywhere else before coming here?” he asked.

“No, I came here...” I stopped short when I recalled that I'd left it on the ATM machine while trying to instruct my transactions.

‘Dear God!’ I can only pray no one else came to that ATM stand after I left.

....

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