#ThisIsNigeria; The unending cycle

I watched Maami closely as she chatted fondly with “vulca”. Uncle Taju popularly called Vulca or vulcanizer by the few who didn’t consider the term a mouthful was a regular at Maami’s Beer Parlor, he sat there daily at exactly Ten thirty every morning, he was the reason for Maami’s powdered face and red lipstick.
" Titi, Titi, Titi" Maami was screaming my name for the millionth time that morning. She became an invalid whenever Vulca was around, not wanting to leave him for a moment. I was contemplating not answering but her screaming wasn’t going to stop.
“Ma!” I hurriedly answered, panting and wipping off invisible beads of sweat like I wasn’t just three footsteps away. “Take this bowl, see this satchet of dry gin it goes for fifty naira, and these bottled ones are a hundred and fifty naira and these other ones are fifty naira…” I listened attentively as Maami went on rattling prices, I was a bit jittery as it was my first time hawking Maami’s goods.
I walked aimlessly for a bit, not knowing my target market, after a while I became a little scared as I had made no sales. “Uche’s carpentry workshop” was my knight in shining armor. As I walked in, Oga Uche the owner of the workshop emptied my bowl and even gave me a huge tip. I walked back to Maami’s shope feeling like a Hero, Maami was pleased with my sales, she even let me have some fish along with my garri.
Oga Uche became my very own “Vulca”. I went to his workshop regularly, not only did he buy all of Maami’s goods he also bought me my first pair of flat shoes. He showered me with a whole lot of love and attention, Maami didn’t seem to mind, she said it was the system she even sent me there on our very broke days.
So at sixteen I got initiated into the cycle, the cycle of girls who hawked goods, the cycle of girls who got used and dumped over again, the cycle of poverty stricken, barely clothed, semi educated, sun baked, vulnerable and hungry girls who live in Makoko, Iwaya,Bariga, Isale Eko and other slums in Lagos who hawked both goods and " goods" to make ends meet. I became like Maami, pregnant at Sixteen.

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Sad story but nicely written. Hopefully better days are just up ahead.

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Really nice :two_hearts:

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Nice👌

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This is really nice dear

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Nice piece Funke

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Great content :fire:

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This is really lovely I gained a lot very nicee

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A beautiful piece Funke. So sad but this is just the typical Nigeria you just painted

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Interesting

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This is so powerful my dear…more ink to your pen baby

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Beautifully written. Story of many young girls who are just trying to survive😢

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Very interesting write up. Best of luck!

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This is too nice, keep it up

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The very best

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Nice write up here.
Creativity at work

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it’s a good one

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This is a very awesome piece.

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Beautiful.

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:fire: :fire: :fire:

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