NO ONE HEARD HER CRY
Episode 6: In the Hands of Strangers
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The journey to Onitsha was long and loud.
A baby cried the whole way.
A man near the window chewed kola nut with a mouthful of curses.
I kept my face turned to the glass, pretending I was asleep—pretending I wasn’t a runaway with blood between her legs and shame in her chest.
No one asked questions.
Not until we got down.
---
The bus stopped at Upper Iweka.
People scattered like flies — some dragging bags, some calling okada, some blending into the night. I had nowhere to go. No name to mention. No one waiting.
I stood frozen by the roadside, clutching my wrapper like a shield, when a woman approached me. She wore a tight blouse and gold slippers that slapped the ground.
“You dey lost?” she asked.
I nodded slowly.
She looked me over and smirked. “You fresh. Wetin be your name?”
“Ifunanya.”
“Come. Make I give you food first.”
---
Her name was Aunty Grace.
But there was no grace in her house.
She lived in a two-room flat filled with girls.
Girls like me — with wide eyes, tired feet, and stories they didn’t tell.
At first, she was kind. She gave me rice. Let me bathe. Even gave me a small dress to wear.
But by the second night, I knew I wasn’t safe.
The girls wore makeup. They left every evening in tight skirts and came back with strange smells and hollow laughter.
One whispered to me: "You go start soon. No run o. They dey find girls like you."
---
I stayed three days.
On the fourth, a man came. He had perfume that burned my nose and fingers that lingered too long.
“Na this one?” he asked Aunty Grace.
She nodded. “Her body never open well. She go fetch money.”
My stomach turned.
That night, I slipped out through the back door while the others slept.
I ran barefoot into the streets of Onitsha — with no money, no phone, and no idea where I was going.
But again… anything was better than being owned.
---
That was how I learned:
Not everyone who offers help is saving you.
Some strangers are just softer devils.
---
To be continued…
(Next Episode: “A Truck, a Man, and the Dark Road”)
Episode 6: In the Hands of Strangers
---
The journey to Onitsha was long and loud.
A baby cried the whole way.
A man near the window chewed kola nut with a mouthful of curses.
I kept my face turned to the glass, pretending I was asleep—pretending I wasn’t a runaway with blood between her legs and shame in her chest.
No one asked questions.
Not until we got down.
---
The bus stopped at Upper Iweka.
People scattered like flies — some dragging bags, some calling okada, some blending into the night. I had nowhere to go. No name to mention. No one waiting.
I stood frozen by the roadside, clutching my wrapper like a shield, when a woman approached me. She wore a tight blouse and gold slippers that slapped the ground.
“You dey lost?” she asked.
I nodded slowly.
She looked me over and smirked. “You fresh. Wetin be your name?”
“Ifunanya.”
“Come. Make I give you food first.”
---
Her name was Aunty Grace.
But there was no grace in her house.
She lived in a two-room flat filled with girls.
Girls like me — with wide eyes, tired feet, and stories they didn’t tell.
At first, she was kind. She gave me rice. Let me bathe. Even gave me a small dress to wear.
But by the second night, I knew I wasn’t safe.
The girls wore makeup. They left every evening in tight skirts and came back with strange smells and hollow laughter.
One whispered to me: "You go start soon. No run o. They dey find girls like you."
---
I stayed three days.
On the fourth, a man came. He had perfume that burned my nose and fingers that lingered too long.
“Na this one?” he asked Aunty Grace.
She nodded. “Her body never open well. She go fetch money.”
My stomach turned.
That night, I slipped out through the back door while the others slept.
I ran barefoot into the streets of Onitsha — with no money, no phone, and no idea where I was going.
But again… anything was better than being owned.
---
That was how I learned:
Not everyone who offers help is saving you.
Some strangers are just softer devils.
---
To be continued…
(Next Episode: “A Truck, a Man, and the Dark Road”)
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