“Is that your last price?” asked a man, with his wife beside him.
“Yes. A male child costs seven hundred thousand naira,” Madam Ronke stressed.
She paused for a while at the expressions on the couple’s faces as they conversed in a foreign language. Something about the man’s wife sent cold shivers down her spine. Apart from her accent, she bore a striking resemblance to Awero.
“Madam, I was going to ask you if you’ve met my wife before,” the man added.
Madam Ronke shook her head as several thoughts crossed her mind. The more she stared at the man’s wife, the more she felt afraid that Awero’s ghost was right before her.
“Madam, please can we conclude this deal fast?” the man asked impatiently. “We have to get to Accra before three p.m. today.”
“I shouldn’t have given you that price initially,” Madam Ronke replied, devising a ploy to dismiss the couple. “Give me nine hundred thousand naira, and the deal is closed.”
“Ma’am, please kansider ess.” the man pleaded.
“Nine hundred thousand naira. Period!” she replied with a note of finality.
“That is too mach,” the man’s wife said, frowning. “Please, don’t waste our time. Let’s know whether you want to make us one of your customers.”
“Nine hundred thousand naira, or nothing,” she maintained, picking up her beeping phone. “Please excuse me…“Hello! Oh! Let him in,” she ended the call, facing her guests. “Gentleman and lady, I am done with you.”
“But we hev not finished,” the man complained, but his wife spoke to him in their language, and they both left.
A prospective customer walked in almost immediately. The negotiation process between Madam Ronke and the customer was as brief as a candlelight. Without much haggling, she received her full payment, higher than the quote she gave to the couple.
“It was nice doing business with you,” she smiled.
“Same here. Can I have my merchandise now?”
************************
The day gradually wore on until business activities at Good Home Ventures ceased for the day.
Madam Ronke took a swig of the remaining red wine in a wine glass placed on the side stool. It was celebration time for the middle-aged lady. Ranking on the list of her ecstasy that evening was the massive business deal she closed without delays.
What a way to begin the new month! she mused as she poured herself another glass of wine from a new bottle.
As she relaxed on the recliner in her office cum room, the melodious sounds of the chirping birds outside the building aligned with the drums of joy beating in her head. Her business was beginning to gain wide recognition. The visit of the foreign couple to the Home that day was a testament to that, even though their visit only evoked the memories of Awero. Good Home Ventures was beginning to gain international recognition. Intruding into her reverie were the cries of babies, cries that had become the hallmark of Good Home Ventures.
“Poor helpless creatures!” she muttered. “Without them, I would cease to be in business!” Her door creaked and opened slightly, without revealing the visitor’s identity. “Who is it?” she said, springing from the recliner.
The door flung open, and a teenage girl cowered before her.
“Pamela!”
“Sorry, ma.”
“Look at the way you’re shaking,” Madam Ronke sneered. She loved it whenever any of her workers and tools trembled before her. Pamela was one of her tools.
Her attention shifted to a portion of the girl’s blouse that was slightly drenched on her chest region.
The girl blinked back a tear and clutched tightly to her breasts. “I want my baby…” she said as she broke down in tears. “Give … me my baby … my baby … now!”
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