I have just noticed the fan and television is not working, electricity cut probably. “Joseph, no electricity?” “yes it is working Mr Ben,” he must be saving Sam some money. It is a waste of time having the fan on during the day; it just blows hot air, does no cooling at all.
I wonder how many drinks I have taken; I never count so I never know what my daily consumption is. Too much I would imagine. My liver must be a mess, everyday I am sat in this bar from ten in the morning to past midnight. Local brew, that's thirty percent or more, nobody can be sure of the true percentage. Next beer, that's five percent, manufactured so that's definite. Last, the nightcap, spirits which are forty percent. My body must be dead inside.
A few more hours and the bar will start to get busy; with football tonight it will be very crowded. Perhaps I should go home, but then there is nothing to go home to. “Joseph, give me another beer.”
~~~~~
Chapter 9
Barbara's Story
I am not a native of this country; I was born five hundred miles to the south of here, in a small neighbouring country. My father was an agricultural engineer and secured a job with an international company. The post was in the capital city here. I was only two when we moved here so I was too young to remember my birthplace. All of my schooling was done in the capital, my father worked very hard to educate all of his children. I have three brothers and one sister; I have not seen any of them for a long-time. My father I think is dead, but my mother is still alive there in the city. I have not seen my family because we fell out a long-time ago. Let me tell you my story.
My schooling went well, my father was very happy with my exam results; they were good enough to put me into university. Talking with my father, I explained to him that I wanted to become a civil engineer, he was totally against this. That is the job for a man he told me, his preference was for me to study science. I really did not want this, but he was funding my education so I had to accept his decision.
I spent the next three years studying something I hated. I was spending more time socialising than learning. I had a different boyfriend every other week. I was starting to get in with some bad people; they would take drink and smoke. When they had no money they would steal from shops and people. Sometimes I was with them when they were stealing. Once I was nearly caught by a shopkeeper, I was just a little too fast for him to catch up with me.
My father sat me down; he wanted to talk to me about my grades. I had just scraped through my second year, the marks were abysmal. He shouted at me, asked me why he should waste anymore money on my education. I did not answer him back, we have to show respect to our parents, even if we disagree with what they are saying. After more shouting he told me to go, my last year had better improve was his last words.
My last year at university was no different than the first two; I hated what I was studying. I know things would have been so different if it was civil engineering. I had another new boyfriend; the difference with this one was that we had been together for two months. He seemed like a good person, he did not drink or smoke and I never heard him talk about stealing.
The year went by and I failed to get my diploma, the marks were even a shock to me. My father was so angry, one night we were all summoned to the house. Sitting in the lounge with my brothers, sister and mother, my father started to speak about me. He told everyone that I had let the family down; the money he had spent on my education was wasted. His speech went on for what seemed hours. Everyone sat quietly, too frightened to speak up in my defence. Finally he came to the end, summing up he told everyone that he did not want me to live here anymore. Turning to me he said, “I want you to leave now, get your things and go.” My mother tried to say something, but he had made up his mind.
After thirty minutes I had my belongings in two small bags. My brothers and sister asked me where I would go; I could not answer them because I did not know. My mother was crying, she put her arms around me and told me to be careful. That was it, I left the house, I was disowned.
That night I slept out on the street, I was so frightened. The next morning I went to look for my boyfriend, I found him at the shop belonging to his friend. He asked me why I had the bags with me; I explained to him what had happened. He told me that I could move into his room, it was small but better than being on the streets.
I was really enjoying my time with my boyfriend; he had a small job which kept us both fed and a roof over our heads. I had tried to get a job but it was difficult, most of the bosses wanted to have sex with you, if you refused you did not get the job. One day my boyfriend told me he had lost his job, he would find something soon he told me. Weeks went by, things were getting very difficult, we had little money. The landlord was knocking on the door for his rent, we were lucky if we had food to eat most days.
One night my boyfriend said we needed to talk, he told me he had a way of making some money. He said that I was a pretty girl and a lot of men had offered him money if they could have sex with me. I could not believe what was coming from his mouth. I started to rant and rave, he told me to calm down. He shouted “how else are we going to live, the landlord wants us to leave this week unless we give him money. We have no food, we will starve to death.” My first thought was to steal food and money that is what my other friends did. He explained that if we were caught we would go to prison, he did not want that. When he mentioned prison it made me stop and think. I did not want to be locked away. I finally agreed with him but only the one time.
There was a knock on our door; my boyfriend went to answer it. He invited in a man, he looked like a businessman. My boyfriend told me this was the man I was to have sex with; I looked at this man and wanted to cry. My boyfriend told the man he would be back in two hours. God help me, two hours with this awful person. We both undressed, his stomach was hanging like a sack of something, it was terrible. We had sex several times during the two hours, he was a very rough man, he hurt me. I was so glad to see my boyfriend, the ordeal was over.
The money we had made from that night paid the rent arrears, there was nothing left for food. My boyfriend said he would bring another person around. I did not want this but I was a prisoner, where else could I go. The next man was younger, he was very strong and I did feel a little more for this man.
My boyfriend was making new demands on me. The fat businessman had become a regular customer. My boyfriend told me he was willing to give extra money if I would give him oral sex. I could not do this I told my boyfriend. He kept shouting at me, telling me I would be out on the streets if we did not pay the landlord. In the end I gave in and did what was required. There was one other request that I refused, even if it were to put me out onto the streets. My boyfriend told me the fat man wanted to have sex without a condom, no way.
There were a lot of different men coming to see me, sometimes as many as three in one night. I never saw any money; my boyfriend controlled all of the finances. One day I started to question him about where the money was going. He started by shouting, he then used his fists to beat me, now I was a prisoner.
One day I found a quantity of money in my boyfriend's trouser pocket. I packed my things and took the money; I left the room never to return. I rented a small room and soon had my own group of customers, the money was good, I was the boss.
There was a knock on the door one evening, I was expecting a customer. When I opened the door I was surprised to see my ex-boyfriend stood there. He lunged at me with his right fist, I slammed the door trapping his arm, I heard the crunching of bones. He was in a lot of pain, too much to fight with me; he went off with his tail between his legs. I later heard that I had broken his arm.
I did not feel safe staying here in the city; my ex-boyfriend would be back. A friend of mine lived and worked in a small town, she was also a prostitute. She told me there were lots of men wanting the services which their wife's were not giving them. This was where I decided to go, one sunny morning I jumped on the bus and left everything behind me.
&nb
sp; Meeting up with her was good for me, she showed me around the bars, introduced me to customers, she was good to me. The war stopped any possible movement back to the capital, I was stuck. The good thing about the war was it brought lots of soldiers to the town. We had plenty of work to do, money was plentiful. When the war finished I had no reason to leave this town, it was my home.
~~~~~
Chapter 10
Jenny's Story (told by family & friends)
I was born in the leafy suburbs of Kent; my life was one of love and kindness. My mother and father were always supportive, sports, drama, music, any activity that I did they would always come and give me their support. Growing up in that environment was such a great part of my life. My parents I think were hippies, well I think so anyway. Mother was a clothes designer and father had his own record label.
I always remember my first day at school, I loved it. The teachers were so kind to me. When I got home to my house I told my mother and father that I wanted to be a teacher. Thirteen years later I was at teacher training college in a beautiful rural location in the Heart of England.
I had never stayed away from home before so I missed my parents so much. Time passed by, I was into everything possible at college. I played for the hockey team, women's football team, I even tried rugby too. Time passed so quickly, I soon found myself leaving college with my diploma and heading to London to work in a big comprehensive school.
The school was in a very ethnic area, pupils were from all walks of life. There were Indian, Pakistani, West Indian, Nigerian, Chinese. Strangely most of these children were born in England so they were already dressing and acting the western way. Music, food and aspirations were already well rooted in their lifestyle. They all wanted to play football for one of the big clubs here in London or become a pop star.
The first few years working there were great; the kids did want to learn. Yes you had the trouble makers, but they were few. We arranged different ethnic activities, like traditional dancing from Africa, food from Asia, Africa and the Caribbean, all done by the students with the help of their parents I'm sure.
Things were starting to change; new government legislation gave the teachers less power and protection. The students knew their rights; they made the most of their new found freedom. Controlling a classroom of year nine or year ten students was starting to become difficult. Some students were worse than others of course, with some it was like going to a war zone. Certain days of the week I didn't want to get out of bed.
One Wednesday morning something happened that made all of the teachers sit back and think about their futures. The maths teacher Mr Brown was attacked by three students. His injuries put him in hospital for two days. It was the talk of the staffroom; everyone was saying how teaching was becoming too difficult in the present climate. The word do-gooder was mentioned many times by the staff. The older members talked of bringing back the cane or even the birch, for others conscription would solve our woes.
Knives were becoming a big problem in the streets of London, it was also becoming a problem in the schools. One morning some workmen turned up with an airport style walk through metal detector. We already had security guards, now this. By the end of the day their job was finished, now we were starting to look like a prison.
Over the next year or two things did not improve, I decided that I had finished with teaching. I resigned from my post and turn my back on the education system in England. I started a job in a bank, not actually in a high street branch but in some big centre handling calls. I hated this more than the battlefield I had left. Like the saying says, “you’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”
One night in a bar with some friends a few of which were teachers, I was given the name of a person who was recruiting for teachers to work in a far off land. Working abroad really did get me excited; I still loved teaching, but not here.
Everything happened so quickly, I contacted the person who arranged an interview for me. I obviously put myself over well and had a letter in the post a week later offering me the position of teacher of sports and maths. I was totally over the moon, this was a new challenge. I resigned from the bank and did a few courses for the new job. I spent a week with my parents, who seem to be more excited than me about the job. I was then on a plane to a place I knew little about, my new challenge was about to begin.
My new school was wonderful, the students really wanted to learn. After my experience in England this was definitely paradise from a teaching point of view. The facilities were minimal compared to what was provided in England, there wasn't even a computer in the school.
One person who helped me a lot was another teacher called Ben. He was a tall man, very handsome; I had a bit of a crush on him really. We started to go to the bar together; we rode our bicycles into the countryside together. We were very close, and one evening I went back to stay at his house. Waking the next morning with him by my side made my decision easy when he asked me if I would move in with him. My answer was a big yes, there was no contest, I adored this man.
Life with Ben was wonderful, we done everything together. I hated being away from him, I missed him so much. We tried to have a baby but weren't successful. We didn't know why, but we accepted what we had. I think Ben would have made a great dad, he reminded me of my father.
There was a small problem back in England, so I was going to fly back to visit my parents and combine sorting the problem with a holiday with them. One of the other teachers was going to the city in his car so he offered me a lift. That day the car pulled away with me hanging out of the window, waving and blowing kisses to Ben until he was out of sight. Little did I realise, that would be the last time I would see him.
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Chapter 11
The Boss is Back
My eyes open the light makes them very sensitive, I have been sleeping, I must have dropped off. Into the bar walks the boss, he's carrying a few small boxes. I suppose he has done a dirty deal somewhere. “Hello Ben, you are still here?” “I am your best customer Sam you know that.” Never was a truer word spoken, the only thing I didn't do here was sleep. That's not quite true, I had been known to sleep under a table a few times and wake up the next morning.
Sam is followed by another man carrying boxes, definitely some illegal deal going on. Sam had been in court a few years ago. That was to do with some money that had been lost in the system. The money was donated by some foreign organisation to build a hospital. The project was under Sam's leadership, it never got off the ground, not one penny of the missing funds was located. Sam was found not guilty of any wrong doing. I think he was a pawn in a bigger plot, because he did buy a new car and another plot of land. When people asked him where the money came from, he would say, “God.”
“Joseph, another beer.” Sam comes out with the other man, they make small talk and shake hands, and the man departs. “Hey Ben how is the day going?” Sam comes over and joins me. “It's a normal day I suppose Sam, what about yours?” “I think it is a good one Ben," he does look happy. “You have a new girl to bed?” “ha-ha, no Ben, I have just purchased something and I think I will double my money.” Same old Sam, wheeling and dealing. “Did you hear the news Ben?” “I try not to Sam it depresses me too much.” “Some places up north were raided by gunmen; they think it maybe a new rebel movement.” If that is true, God help everyone, the last time was bad enough. “That's not good news Sam,” “no Ben, having this stability is good.” If you are at the top of the tree it's good, but for most people it's survival. “I have to go Ben, see you later,” “ciao Sam.” Sam leaves me; I wonder what his next bit of business is.
Well this is someone I have not seen in a long-time. “Hello Ben, how are you?” “I am good Lucy.” Lucy was the last girl I slept with, about a year ago. I just needed some company one night, purely a physical thing. I could never have feelings for any woman; the one I wanted to be with the rest of my life was taken from me. Nothing can ever replace Jenny. Is that really true, have I not re
placed her with this bar and alcohol. Looking at Lucy she looks good, keeps herself clean and tidy. “So where have you been?” “I went to the city Ben, I needed to find some work and earn some money,” that means prostitution. “Did you?” “what Ben?” “earn some money?” “yes but only enough to survive, you know the city Ben, it's expensive.” Poor girl, nothing to show for all of her hard work. “So you are back here?” “yes I am staying with my parents; I am looking for a job.” Her chances are small; there is not a lot to do here. If you can get into the local government that's good, but she has no qualifications, so it's shop, hotel, bar or self-employed. The other thing of course is prostitution, but this is her hometown, she would not do that here. “Well I wish you the best of luck Lucy,” "thank you Ben, I will see you again, bye,” “bye Lucy.”
Life is tough really; some of these people here in this town deserve a little luck. Those that have the money will abuse those without, they forget that they came from the same upbringing, same background. That's the world over I suppose, the gap between the haves and have-nots is growing all of the time. Countries give aid, but for hundreds of years they took more than they are giving back. Philanthropists are the same, yes they give money, build foundations in the third world, but how did they get their wealth? They got their wealth from the very people they are giving the money to. Sounds good, but when creating their wealth they did not care about working conditions of these people, they gave them as little money as possible. The world stinks.
Something touches my leg, looking down it's a cat, I hate cats. I suppose I don't hate them, I love the lion, tiger, all of the big wild cats, they are beautiful. Domestic cats, that's a no for me. The problem is that people will eat their food and give the leftovers to these cats; they just hang around here now. I remember a series of books; I think it was called 101 Uses for a Dead Cat, my type of humour.