When the feeling starts, you never know whether to let it be, or destroy it. Love is irrational and you will have fear of the new one more than any other. It can be a bit scary when you meet your first lover. I have been there. I have been played. I have played, thinking I am revenging, but no. I was only digging up my grave.

I would go out with older guys, sometimes married men, who drove expensive cars and we called them “ama BEE” as we believed they had enough to provide for us and their families. They will go all out for you so that they can get into your lingerie; they will make you happy with whatever it takes and you will end up getting laid.

The atmosphere of the place was different. There were people everywhere, even a space for you to pass was not easy to be found, but he was well known so they made way for him to pass with his mistress. Yes, I was his mistress and a proud one. We got upstairs where only VIP’s are allowed and there were classier things there; like flat screen televisions in every room for those who hired the room for the night and drugs were sold. Being the good girl, I thought I was less interested in those, but I did step in the room, and after some time I became an addict as well. It wasn’t bad; nor was it the best feeling ever.

The morning came and it was time to get back to my cold lonely room at the school’s residence where my school work was waiting for me. I got there, took a quick shower, then started with my assignments. I did half of what I was meant to do, and then drifted off to the land of possibilities. Well, I was modern by then. I was no more the typical rural girl from somewhere in the Northern Cape Province, where I was living with my mom with no man in the house and we would sometimes sleep on empty stomachs because of our disadvantaged background.

I lost my father when I was only thirteen and he was the breadwinner. Now I am eighteen and doing my second semester here in Orbit FET College, Mankwe Campus. Ever since my dad passed away, my mother has never brought a man in the house because she knew I wouldn’t like that.

After some time I got a call. The man asked me to come to the gate as fast as I could, so I took my keys, locked my room, then off I went. I wanted to go with my friend, but she was mad at me as I was someone she never thought I would be. I was now dating more than one man and not just men, but married men. I got there and I found this man in an Audi 8. He wasn’t bad looking, but something was dodgy about him.

I got in the car and he told me I didn’t get my payment last night. I was so confused. All I could think about was, did I run a business with my body? I last remember sniffing that hot stuff and it was all over. Still lost in my thoughts, he tapped my shoulder as he handed me a silver case. I might be as poor as I am, but I am not taking this free money, I thought. He started explaining how I had earned it, and I realised I was nothing more than a prostitute. I decided to let it be. I left the case and ran to my room.

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Tell us what you think: Do you think there is a difference between getting things and money from a sugar daddy and being a prostitute?