(Episode 3) Memoirs of a Lagos Runs Girl

As I sit down in this expensive chaise, whose high value means nothing to me anymore, and write my memoirs, I am forced to remember the past and it causes me so much sadness.

Before I continue, a word of advice for the young women who have not gotten into any marriage yet; do not allow your parents or situation decide your choice of life partner because, when the chips are down, it is going to be you in that marriage, bearing all the consequences of your poor choice. I was blackmailed by my mother’s struggles into my marriage with my madam’s brother, but when I was suffering, my mother was not there to bear with me.

That day when I found out about my marriage, after wiping her eyes, my mother gave me the clothes my husband had sent me. I dressed up in a chiffon floor length gown, for my journey to my husband’s house. My husband was residing in Uyo, and it was said, that he was a successful business man. My mother went with me, but she didn’t send me away without any gifts. She gave me some of her Hollandes wrappers which she wore on very special occasion. From the money my husband had given her, she also bought some cooking utensils for me. On our way to Uyo, my mother began to advise me about how to live in my new home.
“Be submissive, don’t ever refuse him sex. He owns you now, and you have to live to please him” she said. That didn’t go down well with me, her advice sounded like I was going to my master’s house instead of my husband’s house. Maybe, that was meant to give me a foresight to the kind of marriage I had committed myself into.

When we got there, it was a magnificent mansion. My mother looked at me with a smile on her lips, as if to say, “look what I got you”. The gateman allowed us in, only when we called the name of my madam, it was like he did not inform anyone of our coming. We met a young woman in the house, who welcomed us and asked my mother if I was the maid that would be taking care of her boyfriend. I was like “what did my ears just hear?” I wanted to correct her, but my mother clamped her hands on mine, and sent me a message with her eyes. Then she nodded at the young woman.
“Oh great, my name is Inyene, but you can call me Ene. You will have a great time in this house because your master is a good man” she said. I was mesmerized by her beauty and the fact that she bore ‘Inyene’. How could a beautiful woman who looked a white woman, bear our native name?

My mother left afterwards, and I was left with Inyene. I made Nigerian jollof rice and we both ate, and discussed, or rather she talked while I listened. I came to like her and didn’t blame her for being my husband’s girlfriend. After all, she didn’t know he was married. It was past 9pm before the man who was to be my husband, came home. He looked at me like I was something he abhorred. But on his girlfriend, he bestowed a smile, which made him look very handsome.
“Honey you are back, your new maid is here” she said wrapping her arms around him.
“She is not my maid, she is my wife” he said and somehow that brought a smile to my face. I sat a little straighter, and took a good look at my husband. He was of a tall build, and his complexion was like that of polished wood. He was also muscular, and had good facial features. Any woman would fall for such a man, and I, Eno, fell in love immediately.

I was swooning and had totally zoned out on my husband and his girlfriend, who were having a shouting feat.
” You said you loved me, what is this that you have done?” Inyene asked.
“You didn’t think I was going to marry someone like you. You can’t cook or do chored around the house, and did you really think I don’t know about the men? This woman might be as crude as a slave girl, but she, is a virgin and is worthy to be the mother of my children. I am more than 40 and I can’t continue to have a girlfriend instead of a wife. We can always date, my marriage does not stop that” my supposed husband said, and eyed me as he said that last part.

I was so shocked that I didn’t hear what my husband’s girlfriend was saying anymore, until she held me by the arm and jerked me.
“Marrying this man will be the worst decision of your life. Somehow, I am happy I didn’t marry him” she said and left the house.
My husband and I stared at each other before he walked into the bedroom. I cleaned up the dinning table, all the while telling myself that he would change and fall in love with me after he has gotten to know me. I was an African woman to the call, even before becoming a runs girl, I was beautiful with a curvy body. I was also intelligent and smart, what man wouldn’t love me?

After cleaning, I went into the bedroom, walking with tentative steps. I had not stayed up to a day, but I was already seeing that I married a man with very bad behaviour, and it was obvious he didn’t care for anyone. But that was the least of my worries…

When I came into the bedroom, my husband was already in bed, so I undressed, tied a wrapper around my chest and went to lie beside him. But he jumped up and pushed me out of the bed. I landed on the floor with my butt and looked up at his towering figure. My people, I have never felt more humiliated in my life.
“How can you be so dirty! Are you an untrained animal? Can’t you shower?” He yelled.
“I am sorry” I said, just as my mother had taught me. “Always apologize, even when you are not wrong” she had said.

“Just go get a shower and come back here immediately” he said and shooed me away out of the bedroom, like I was a plague.
I went into the sophisticated bedroom, and showered, with my tears for bathwater.
“What have I gotten myself into?” I asked no one but myself. But still, I had not even seen anything yet.

When I went back into the bedroom, he was snoring away, and I was happy about it. I crawled into bed quietly and slept off. It was in the mid of night, that I felt a tug on my wrapper.
“Did you come here to sleep? Don’t you know you have a duty to me?” He said and with one pull, my wrapper came apart.
I shielded my nudity with my hand and that seemed to amuse him, as he barked out a mocking laughter. He pushed me down on the bed and mounted me.Without much ado, he spread my legs apart and thrust himself into me. I felt a sharp pain, but not like that of a virgin because you see, I was not a virgin, and my husband knew the moment he entered me. He stopped and looked at me, his eyes were dark and angry. Then he began to thrust harder and faster, not caring if I was bruised or not. He pulled me up and pushed me down on all fours, and then he began to thrust again, hitting my butt and my back as he did. When he was done, he went to the toilet. On his way there, he stopped and turned to look at me.
“I paid so much money for a second hand product. I don’t want to see your face when I come back. Look for somewhere else to sleep” he said and left the room.


I cried as I tied my wrapper and left the master bedroom. If I had not known sex before, I would have said it was the most ugly thing. But back in Ikot Ekpene, before things got so hard for me and my family, I loved a boy called Udeme. He was a fair handsome boy, who told me he loved me, just to get into my pants. Nevertheless, our lovemaking was a beautiful experience, and he was my very first. He knew the contours of my body and knew how to navigate them. It didn’t matter that we always met in the bush to make love, but every experience was worth the scratches on my body from lying on the floor littered with dried leaves. H Udeme left Ikot Ekpene for Thailand, on a scholarship to study Computer Engineering. It was the reason I wanted to go to school too, but you all know how that went.
My husband had expected to break a virgin, but had met me already broken. I didn’t know what the consequences was going to be, but I knew it would not be pleasant.


Life is going to go from bad to worse, and Ene, who was my husband’s girlfriend, would be my saving grace, or maybe she was my doom, I will leave that for you to decide. Find out in Episode 4.

See Other Episodes Below

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4


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