My name is Ekaette. I am now 34 years old, a big woman in Lagos with my own successful hair and cosmetics business. I drive a good car and live in a fine house in Lekki. But nobody knows where I came from. This is my real story — the dirty, painful, and sweet truth of how I survived Lagos as a homeless girl from Akwa Ibom.
I came to Lagos when I was 19. My mother died and my father married another woman who hated me. There was no food, no peace. One woman in my village told me she had a sister in Lagos who could help me find work. So I packed my small bag and entered a night bus from Uyo to Lagos.
When I reached Lagos, the woman’s sister said she had no space for me. She gave me only ₦2,000 and told me to find my own way. That was how my suffering started.
For the first two weeks, I slept in a rough bus garage in Oshodi. The place was dirty and dangerous. Agberos—the rough area boys who collect money from drivers—controlled that place. They were loud, smoked weed, drank gin, and fought every day. At night the garage becomes more dangerous.
I slept inside one abandoned bus at the back. I used my wrapper as a bed. The first few nights, nobody disturbed me. But hunger was killing me. I begged for food and sometimes collected leftovers from food vendors.
One hot night, everything changed.
It was my fifth night in the garage. I was sleeping inside the bus when I heard voices.
“See this fine girl wey dey sleep here every night.”
I opened my eyes and saw three agberos. One was tall and dark, called Razor. Another was short and strong, called Small. The third one was big with a belly—they called him Baba.
I was scared. “Please, I am just looking for work. Don’t do anything to me.”
Razor laughed. “You sleep for free for our garage. You go pay rent tonight.”
They entered the bus. I tried to shout, but Small covered my mouth.
“Shut up. Nobody go hear you here.”
They removed my clothes roughly. My skirt was torn. I was naked. My breasts were full and my body was fresh because I was still young.
Razor was the first. He opened my legs and pushed his dick inside me without mercy. I cried because it was painful. He fucked me hard and fast, slapping my breasts while he pounded me. The bus was shaking.
When he finished, Small took his turn. He turned me over and fucked me doggy style. He was rough. He pulled my hair and called me “ashawo.”
Baba was the last. His dick was very thick. He made me sit on him and ride him. My breasts bounced up and down while he sucked my nipples. He fucked me for a long time before he came.
That night they fucked me one after the other. When they finished, they gave me ₦1,500 and warned me not to tell anyone.
After that night, it became normal. Almost every night, different agberos came to fuck me in the bus. Sometimes two, sometimes three. They fucked me in different positions — on the bus seat, standing up, bending over the engine, even outside at midnight.
I started getting used to it. My body started enjoying the sex even though my heart was bitter. Some of them were rough, but some were gentle. They gave me small money, food, and protection so other boys would not disturb me.
One agbero called Bright even took me to a cheap hotel twice and fucked me the whole night. He liked me because I was tight and my body was sweet.
For almost one month, I was the “garage girl.” They fucked me almost every day. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes at night. My pussy was always sore, but I had no choice. I needed to survive.
One evening, while I was washing my clothes near the garage, a man came to park his bus. His name was Chinedu. He was 38 years old, tall, dark, and handsome. He owned two buses and was a serious man.
He saw me and asked why a young girl was living in the garage. I told him my story. He felt pity for me.
That night, he came back after his bus closed. He paid some agberos money and told them not to touch me again.
“Come with me,” he said.
He took me to his house in Agege. It was a small but clean two-bedroom flat. He gave me food and new clothes and told me I could stay.
The first night in his house, I was afraid. But Chinedu was different. He did not touch me. He just said, “Sleep well. Tomorrow we will talk.”
After one week, we started getting close. One night, he kissed me. I kissed him back. That night, Chinedu made love to me properly for the first time in a long while.
He was gentle. He sucked my breasts softly. He licked my pussy until I was wet and shaking. When he entered me, he went slow and deep. I moaned loudly because it felt so good. We fucked in missionary, then I rode him. He held my waist and told me I was beautiful.
From that night, we started having sex every day. Chinedu fucked me all over the house — on the bed, on the sitting room couch, in the kitchen while I was cooking, even in the bathroom. He loved doggy style. He would bend me over the chair and fuck me hard from behind while slapping my ass.
I stayed with Chinedu for six full years. He helped me learn hairdressing. He paid for me to do an apprenticeship in a big salon. I became very good. He also supported me when I started my own small side business.
During those years, our sex life was very active. Sometimes we fucked three times in one day. He loved my body, and I loved his strong dick. We did everything — oral sex, rough sex, romantic sex, even sex in his bus at night.
After six years, I told Chinedu I wanted to stand on my own. He supported me. I opened my first small salon in Agege. With time, I expanded. Today I have three big salons in Lagos, and I sell my own cosmetics and hair products.
I now live in a nice house in Lekki. I drive a Toyota Camry. People call me “Aunty Ekaette.” They don’t know I once slept in a dirty bus garage and was fucked by agberos every night.
Sometimes I remember those rough days. The way the agberos used to fuck me hard in the bus. The way their sweat and sperm were all over my body. It was painful, but it also made me strong. It taught me how to survive.
Now when I see young girls struggling in Lagos, I try to help them. I know how bitter the street can be.