I walked into the bar trying to pull down my leopard skin cowl neck dress a little bit. I love animal print, I love cowl necks, I love short dresses, so not buying the dress wasn't even an option. Individually, those things make me feel sexy, collectively they made me feel like bloody Aphrodite! I like to feel sexy but I somehow felt a bit too sexy. Yet, when I walked into the lounge last night I might have as well been wearing a hijab. Two ladies rushed out the door just as I was walking in. The first one, light skin and busty, seemed to be wearing only a push up bra and bum shorts, her titties were in my face like BAAM!!! The other wore this tiny crop top and a skirt that only wrapped her bum. I swear if I looked closer I could have seen her vjayjay. I looked at my friend; is this a strip club?
I walked in and saw more of the "disaster" I'd just seen at the door. Most of the patrons were expatriates or just white men chopping Nigerian money. Little wonder that the ladies of the night flocked there like a pack of hungry wolves to carcasses. I spent my time watching these girls and women. Most were practically naked. Some were grinding on the men, some teasing and touching them, others just loafing around aimlessly in the hopes that one of them would find her aloofness attractive and decide she's the one he wants for the night.
They continued to flock in, the ladies of the night, shamelessly marketing their wares. I became uncomfortable, it seemed every female there was selling something. I got up and went to wait for my friend in the car, lest someone proposition me. The place was actually very nice, and as with most other spots in VI, expensive. Yet it was terribly depressing.
I wondered who these women were, how long they had been in the "business", if they had any plans of getting out and what future there is for a prostitute who has accepted prostitution as her fate. Acceptance is key here. I've seen ladies of the night who still cannot believe that this is their fate, cannot accept it, resent it. You can see it in their eyes. There's hope for those ones. The ladies of last night seem to relish it, to revel in it, to wholeheartedly accept it. They made my mouth sour.
One particularly caught my eyes. She carried herself with something like pride; shoulders straight and head high. Unlike the others she wasn't scantily dressed or nearly naked, she wore a pink calf-length bodycon dress and pink pumps. Her hair, or what was left of it, was packed in a bun, held tightly in place by dollops of gel. I looked at her feet and they were a variety of colours, as were her hands and fingers; black, yellow and pink. Her shoes were inappropriate for a Friday night, and for her job; looked more like what one would wear to church or a school teacher to the classroom. Her dress while obviously very clean was obviously very cheap, as was the entire air around her. She wasn't young either, couldn't have been less that 35 at least. Her eyes were dead. I couldn't stop looking at her, I wondered who or were she would be ten years from now. I marveled at her, the proud prostitute. The one who looked ravaged like a vulture but strutted like a peacock. She fascinated me.
I think I was reminded that wherever life threw you, whether in a penthouse wearing silk robes and eating beluga caviar, or on your knee, rendering oral services for money in a filthy public toilet, one ought to hold their head high with dignity. But where's the dignity in defeat?
Thankfully my friend soon joined me in the car and later that night, a debate ensued;
"Don't judge them, it's not their fault, nobody prayed to become a prostitute"
"Nonsense, they are just greedy and lazy, everybody always has options, these one have chosen prostitution"
"I don't think so, I think life is very hard for them and this is the only way for them to survive. You don't know their stories or what led them here..."
-Do you think every prostitute willingly chose that path and as such deserves contempt OR did the harsh realities of life leave them no option and push them to it, thus entitling them to empathy?
What do you think?