THE GHOST OF ARO

Back in the days when he was growing up, Yinka used to think club houses were fictional. He only saw them in movies, with all the colour lights, beers, rude looking boys, bouncers, and girls stripping at a corner. Growing up in the ghetto of Ajegunle, he never thought such a wonderful life existed, let alone it being in Nigeria. More so, he was the only child of a clergy couple who died when he was about 15 years old. They never raised him up to enjoy the good things of life; all they cared about was heaven. To some extent, he thanked his uncle who raised him up with the opposing orientation; problem was there was no money to enjoy those good things of life anyway.

When he first entered the club that night his thought was, “Am I in heaven?” though his inner mind replied him that he just entered hell. What he used to consider being imaginary became so real he doubted if he himself was real.

Outside, the building situated on Victoria Island looked so quiet that you would never believe the kind of club that existed inside until you see with your own eyes.

He ignored the almost naked strip-dancers beckoning him and walked to where Mr Arowolo was sitting in the middle of two seductive girls, drinking some expensive alcoholic wine, and smoking some cigarette he imagined would be too expensive for a poor man like him. Anyway, he doesn’t smoke. But he wanted to drink expensive wine too.

The girls were yellow and bright as the sun. One had a cat-eye and the other was plain-eyed, but they were both extremely beautiful: the kind of girls that you would look at and lick your lips if you were a strong person; and if you were not well disciplined mere looking at them could make you ejaculate. With almost nothing on save for their bra, hot-pants, and high heel shoes, Yinka thought Arowolo must be impotent for him not to jump on at least one of them and have Hot rounds of ***. As if the girls heard his thought, one of them put her hands deep into Arowolo’s trouser and began to play underneath. Yinka looked away. That was enough confirmation that Arowolo was not impotent.

                “I have never been in a club like this before,” Yinka said while obliging Arowolo’s motion to sit opposite him. “But if I can be coming here every day, I will never die again.”

Arowolo just smiled and continued having his fun. The smile brightened his youthful look even more. Who would believe a man who claimed to be about 50 years old like him would be wearing dreadlock? His designer T-shirt, jeans, and shoe also speak less of an elderly person. His wristwatch shone with a kind of brightness that competed with the club lights. They met last week at a supermarket in Ajah. He had helped Yinka to pay for his goods when the latter realized he doesn’t have enough money for what he picked. Since then they have been talking till Yinka asked for help on a job.

It was 2:30Am in the morning, and people were still coming into the club. Gosh! Do people ever sleep in Lagos city? All around, if people were not dancing, they were chatting amidst drinks. Some were even kissing away at a corner on the right hand side. Yinka felt jealous for human beings like him wasting money away in an expensive club, while he slept at home, jobless, even without a girl friend. If at all this created any impression on him-it was to succeed by all means and enjoy what they all enjoyed.

... Watch out for the Next Episode.

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