Around 9pm, Uncle called me and gave me 50 Euros.
He said that was my share from the job i did with Bastian.
Since we were naturally expected not to ask questions, i took the money and announced to him that i was going home.
I went home and changed clothes, then i returned to the road and took a taxi to the home of Bastian Von Austria.
Like he promised, he didn’t go out, He waited for me at home.
I had asked him to give me his phone number earlier in the day so that i could be able to call him but he refused.
He insisted on taking my own number and i was clever enough not to have pressured him into doing that.
That could have easily caused the break up between us.
The whites never trusted us and i wasn’t going to break up that age old reality.
He opened the gate when i pressed the bell and walked towards me to give me a hug.
“Welcome” He said as he led me into the house through the front door.
He had other visitors when i came in.
A man and a woman were sitting at the poolside, smoking marijuana and sipping Cognac.
Bast and I joined them.
I watched as he grabbed a rolled weed from the plate and lighted it.
I didn’t know Bastian smoked but then it wasn’t my business.
He wasn’t my boyfriend and even if he was, i didn’t think i would have done anything.
From what i heard, whisky and cognac, which i took, were more dangerous when compared to the weed.
Bast asked if i drank Cognac and when i nodded, he poured some in a glass cup and handed it to me.
The discussion was changed to English so that i could understand what they were saying.
A large industrial electric lamp illuminated the entire back yard and made it almost impossible to notice that it was already late in the night.
We partied late into the night and eventually had sex right there at the poolside again.
The other couple watched as Bastian fvcked me.
I didn’t like the idea but it didn’t matter.
I was a prostitute and they all knew it.
They knew that i wasn’t Bastian’s girlfriend.
The young white men hardly dated black girls.
It was only the old men that dated us.
Back inside the house, we slept and when i woke up in the morning, i declared that it was time to go.
The generous Bastian gave me another 100 Euros and said he would call me again soon.
I was tempted to reject the money he gave me but i didn’t have much excuse to back the action up.
That was the kind of tricks girls played when they liked a man and wanted to be his permanent girlfriend but i figured that it may backfire on me and make Bastian not to call me to his house again.
As a result, i decided to stick to the original plan which was to accept whatever he offered me at any given time.
I liked his house and its privacy and swimming pool.
I prayed to be visiting the place more often no matter the amount of money he gave me.
It gave me some kind of sense of privacy and security unlike when i used to hang around the bush along the Domitiana highway in Castel Volturno.
I returned Home and met Melissa boiling Rice.
I had called her the night before and told her i won’t be returning home since she wasn’t yet back when i left.
Life went on from then on. Nothing significant happened in my life for a long time.
I would wake up, clean the house whenever i could eat and go to work.
Sometimes, i would hook up a guy and follow him to his place or hotel
the good news then was that i was no longer an ‘Ashawo 10 Euro’ as we popularly called the Domitiana girls.
New girls arrived on weekly basis. Some came through North Africa while other came through the air.
Many of them hated what they were subjected to do but had no choice but to do them.
It was the same when i newly arrived.
It wasn’t easy to return to Nigeria.
The Nigerian embassy in Italy was up North In Rome.
It was rumoured that someone could go there and declare that she wanted to go home.
She would be issued with a Travelers Certificate which would allow her to return to Nigeria.
However, the person must pay for her flight ticket costs and others.
It was also rumoured that a girl who attempted to return to Nigeria through that method died mysteriously.
The Madams capitalized on that to scare the new girls from thinking of returning to Nigeria.
Surprisingly, some girls knew what they were coming to do in Europe.
They knew they were coming to stand along the road and give their bodies to men for money.
At a stage, we started seeing girls from Calabar and a few from Igbo States. Some moved away from Italy to Spain and Portugal.
Some moved further North to France and Other Countries up there.
Everybody was after the same things; money.
I also started saving money.
News that the Italian Government had passed a law in the parliament, to issue Temporal Resident Permits to Foreigners had filtered into our ears.
People had started to register through lawyers,, especially those who already took asylum in the country.
We prayed day and night for it to happen because that would give us more freedom to travel around the country and even to Nigeria.
It was a big blow to the Madams who organised themselves and discouraged their girls from applying for the resident permit.
Work continued as normal as ever at the Uncle’s place.
I was making money there almost on daily basis as long as i slept with someone.
I also made more money from side customers who would call me to their place and had fun with my body.
At the same time, i tried to have as much fun as i could.
Life was just one and i wasn’t going to allow it to pass away just like that simply because i needed money.
News that the village house has been completed got to me in 2004.
So far, it was my greatest achievement.
It gave me joy to know that it was me who built the house.
It was true that the money belonged to Ano but the house belonged to me.
Ano was never drawn in any money.
He made the money illegally through drugs and i stole it from him.
Both actions were illegal but then the house was built in Edo Nigeria.