Roslin wiped her tears away, bitterness lacing her voice as she recounted her ordeal. "Dennis threatened to gouge my eyes out if I told anyone. Three months later, I found out I was pregnant. When I told Cuban… she beat me. She said I seduced her son with my short dresses." Her hands trembled as the memory resurfaced. "Then she dragged me to a clinic and forced me to have an abortion."
Mrs. Agbor gasped, her voice filled with disbelief. "Oh God… no…"
Roslin nodded, her body shaking as she continued. "The procedure was horrible. I was awake the entire time. The woman gave me a drug that made my stomach ache like crazy after five minutes, and then… she cut me." A shiver ran through her as she struggled to find the words. "She used a hot metal instrument and put it inside me, inside my vagina. I screamed in pain. It was so painful I cried… so, so much."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she pressed her hands to her chest as if to contain the pain. "They didn't take care of me afterward. She just sewed me up, added some antiseptic to the cuts, and told me to leave. That entire day, I couldn't pee or use the toilet. I cried in agony; the burns and cuts were unbearable." Her voice cracked under the weight of her memories. "Cuban threw me out the next day. I started living on the streets… I smelled horrible. Water kept leaking from me… I had Vesicovaginal Fistula, VVF for short".
Mrs. Agbor gasped, her expression shifting to one of empathy. "You suffered from that too?"
Roslin nodded, the weight of her past evident in her eyes. "Yes… until a doctor helped me. Dr. Babatunde Ejiofor… he was like an angel. He found me begging on the streets, took me in, treated me, and sent me to school. He changed my life." Her voice softened, the fondness in her tone almost palpable. "He never married. He said marriage wasn't for him. But because of him, I got a degree in linguistics… I got a good job."
A shadow crossed her face, the joy of her memories dimmed by loss. "But then… he passed away."
Tears slipped down Roslin's cheeks as her voice faded, her gaze fixed on the ground, lost in painful memories.
Mrs. Agbor gently patted her back, her voice filled with compassion. "Oh dear, I am so sorry."
"It felt like I was under a curse," Roslin said, her tone heavy with despair. "After he died, his family came to the house and threw me out. They said he had told them I was just adopted. I had nowhere to go." She took a shaky breath, her hands trembling. "But I had a friend, Mariam. She was like a guardian angel to me, offering me a place to stay. Everything was fine at first, but soon I began to notice her hidden lifestyle."
Roslin paused, her thoughts swirling. "Mariam was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Once, she told me that unless a man was willing to give me at least five hundred thousand just for shopping, I shouldn't even think about dating him. The strange thing was, Mariam came from a wealthy family, so I never understood why she acted like she needed to hustle men for money. She used to say, 'Always remember, you're the prize; the man is just the wallet.'"
Mrs. Agbor raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through the somber atmosphere. "Sounds like she was a real Gen-Z baddie."
Roslin chuckled softly, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. "Oh, she was, no doubt. One night, Mariam brought home her older brother. He was the most striking man I had ever seen—deep-set eyes, perfectly sculpted lips. It was like he was specially carved by God Himself. But I swore I wouldn't get involved with him. I didn't trust men anymore, and I had never shared my past with Mariam."