I enjoyed the torment of suffering resignation I saw in their eyes, all of them. Men, when they have something to lose, are great investments.
John’s a senatorial aspirant with a reputation to protect and a family to care about. When I presented him with the prospect of losing his political career, and family too, he coughed two million shillings to get me procure an abortion (he still wants to keep on coming to me on weekends and some nights). Well, I can’t abort my baby, so he ended up buying me off with seven million shillings after so much haggling and signing a paper that granted him immunity against anything I might bring up in future. Fine with me.
Jeff’s rich dad’s kid. He’s got a trust fund running into millions. The only problem is he’s been using it without his dad’s knowledge in collusion with his father’s bank manager. When dad hears about this he’d practically kill him. So, when I told him I was pregnant for him he almost went bonkers. Was I out of my mind? No. I was perfectly sane, and I wanted us to marry. But Jeff wants to make dad proud, has the whole future ahead for him to live. He’d allow nothing to come in between. On humanitarian grounds, one million shillings for an abortion at the best hospital in the country was the deal.
Then there’s Pastor Dane. I’ve been his secret lover since the senator introduced me to him and to his church and secured me a tender with his church. So there goes the fact that there’s no man, or woman, of the cloth who does what they say. His case had both political and religious insinuations. His offertory returns, untaxed, run into tens of millions. I ended up with five million from him to establish myself as his secret family, then five hundred thousand shilling monthly upkeep; well, I agreed to the terms and conditions, but he can keep the monthly upkeep. I ain’t interested.
I’ve just got my new identification documents, gotten rid of the fake pregnancy but left the IUD intact.
Lying about my pregnancy has given me some satisfaction, but what I enjoyed most is the shenanigans, the sampling of men and then lying there with eyes closed pretending to enjoy it while planning everything in my mind and fake the big O.
Now, what I can think of is the things the money would buy.
Copyright ©Vincent de Paul, 2013.