Expired ATM Cards(Aikhuele Alex) EXPIRED ATM CARD
My name is Vivian; I have a story about my life to tell everyone who care to listen.
I have 3 bedroom flat located at palm groove area Lagos, a bungalow at Mandate estate Ilorin and a duplex at Igbinedion estate Benin –City and a fleet of exotic cars in my garage. So naturally you will expect me to be a happy and fulfilled woman.
In 2001 Italian Immigration deported me along with 50 other girls back to Nigeria. I believe you will comprehend my story more if I begin from how it all started. You will not be wrong if you call me a role model to other pupils, while I was at Eleyele Primary School Ibadan, at the end of each term my class teacher makes remarks in my report cards like very intelligent, hard working, excellent conduct, exemplary character and other such compliment. I always keep my uniform and other School items neat. I work hard to make good grades, every year. My parents, teachers and even my fellow pupil were impressed with the way I conduct myself,
In 1997, my dad who was a police officer retired, we then relocated from Ibadan to Benin-City. As we arrived the city, I enrolled at Uwa Girls College. One thing I observed was that the people here in Benin City has a different view of life. Their attitude, expectation and reaction to situation were quite at variance with Ibadan residents. In my new environment, theirs is the end justified the means. No one cares how you make money, all that matter to them is that you “ACHIEVE”. All the youths here has one goal in common.
That is to obtain Visa and travel out of the Country.
Before I came to Benin, I was having a clear picture of how I want my life to be. Mine was to earn higher degree in the University, get a decent job, married and properly care for my kids. But now, the question I keep asking myself is whether my family relocation to Benin is a Blessing in my life or a curse. In my second year at the College I did my third Abortion. The doctor had warned me against it, but I had made up my mind to terminate the pregnancy. There is a saying that the dog destined for death during hunting expedition will not listen to his master calling.
Do I blame my greed for material things or blame the situation that arises after my Dad retires from the force? At the time we relocated to Benin, we moved into the Extended family house because my father does not have his own house. So my father with three wives and fifteen children has to leave in two rooms in the already congested house. His meager pension was not enough to feed the family. Survival now became the name of the game at home. Things became so hard that at many occasion, we go to bed on empty stomach, it was during this period Ehimwenma introduce me to a group called the “Hustlers”
I have to abandon Schooling in SS3 class, when it became obvious to me that combining the struggle to feed myself with my studies was impossible. The money I made from Hustling was putting food on the table for the family and everybody was happy at least. The Hustlers activities were more than prostitution. The group operates as a Cabal. No prostitute can practice in the area without the permission of the group. Members can be assigned tasks which you are bound to carry out. Assaination, Blackmail, Robbery, Kidnapping, Thuggery are example of such task.
You are rewarded when you accomplish your assigned task while execution of members is common when you betray the group. I have taken part in some operation of the group before I left Nigeria.
I spent 18 months in Tripoli before I was able to cross over to Italy. My mother died in my absent. I was told she died in her sleep, as her only child I was expected to come back to bury her, but that was not possible because I was already in Italian Immigration custody then. It was at my arrived in Nigeria I knew how my mother actually died. At the moment in Nigeria my problem is compounded. I cannot live in my house. My half brothers and sisters with their mothers have shared my property among them and have taken possession of them. They say they are only waiting for me to die soon from my life threatening ailment.
A cancerous sore is on my private part. It oozes out smelly pose. It has defile orthodox and tradomedical treatment. The sore smells so bad that people avoid me in the street, market and other public places. I will be 48 years by April this year; I have no husband and no child to call my own.
As you read this piece, I will be glad to receive your advice on how I can solve this problem I found myself.

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