That evening, after Amara had signed the agreement with Valerie, she paced around her room, wondering again if she had made the right decision.
Wanting to get a second opinion, she picked up her phone and dialed her friend's number.
Ada was her childhood friend, who had made her move to Warri. After their secondary school, Ada moved to Warri to live with her aunt, and she suggested that Amara leave the village and come to Warri to hustle.
"This one you called me today. How far?" Ada asked the moment she received the call.
"Which one is which one I called you today? When last did you call me?" Amara retorted defensively.
"Nuh be fight. Calm down. I'm just saying you always flash me and say you don't have money to waste on airtime to call. So, I'm just surprised you called and didn't flash. I was waiting for that your wicked flash but was surprised it was a call," Ada said with a laugh.
"Something is wrong with you. Abeg, that's not why I called. One of my friends is in need of advice. So I wanted a second opinion," Amara lied.
"Of course. You know say I get sense full my head. Fire down," Ada said, and Amara laughed as she told her.
"Hmm. Is the question about whether or not she should go into prostitution…"
"It's not prostitution. It is runs," Amara corrected.
"Amara, whether you call it prostitution or runs, it is the same thing. As long as you're having transactional sex, you're prostituting yourself…"
"Ha! Who said it was me? Why are you talking as if I'm the one doing it? I said I'm asking for someone!"
"Eh! I didn't mean you as in you. I'm just saying anyone having sex for money is a prostitute. There is no need to use fancy names for it. Oyibo will call them sex workers and escorts. But the simple name is prostitution."
"But that is not the question I asked you. Why are you leaving what I asked to preach? You that is having sex with your boyfriend, is it not under the class of fornication that sex workers do too?" Amara asked angrily.
"At least I'm not doing it for money," Ada said defensively.
"You're not doing it for money, yet it is the same hellfire you're going to," Amara snapped.
"Wait. Why are you even angry on top of the ordinary name that I'm explaining? I did not even preach. I only corrected you when you said it is runs not prostitution. Shey you said it's somebody you're asking for abi is it yourself you're talking about?" Ada asked suspiciously.
"I nuh blame you. Na me call you," Amara hissed with annoyance and ended the call.
With a sigh, Amara picked up her purse and stepped out of her house. She liked to walk in the evenings both as a means of exercise and also to clear her head.
She walked for a long time, turning from one street to another until she came upon a new pharmacy that she had never really noticed before.
For no reason in particular, she walked into the large pharmacy. She wasn't sure why.
There was no one inside, but judging by some of the empty shelves she could see there, she could tell they were not done stocking up yet.
"Good evening. We are not open yet," a male voice announced from inside as he stepped out of what seemed to be his office.
"Oh! Okay," Amara said, looking at the handsome man standing in front of her.
'Preach to her,' Michael heard the quiet voice in his spirit urge him the moment he laid eyes on the pretty girl.
She was dressed decently like a church girl with her cornrow. Her nails weren't even painted, and neither was her face. He could tell she was a church girl. What was there to preach to her about?
If it were when he was still in the world, he would have probably hit on her. Although she didn't exactly look as cleaned up as he liked his girls to be.
I'm born again now. I shouldn't have such thoughts, Michael reminded himself.
"Do you need something? Are you ill?" Michael asked, ignoring the voice in his spirit.
Amara didn't move. For some reason she remained where she stood as he appraised her.
"No. I'm fine. I just saw the pharmacy while I was passing. I've never noticed it before, so I decided to check it out. Do you work here, or do you own it?" Amara asked curiously as she continued to stare at him.
She was unsure why she was interested in whether or not he worked there.
"I own it. Are you looking for a job?" Michael asked, suspecting that she wanted the job of a salesgirl.
Amara shook her head, "No. I'm just asking."
'Preach to her,' Michael heard it again.
"My name is Mike. What is your name?" He asked, and she smiled.
"Amara."
"You're Igbo?"
"No. Ukwuani. Some people call us Delta Igbo, but we are not," she said, and he raised a brow.
"What's the difference?"
"The difference is that we are from the south, not the east. Why can't we just be ukwuani? Why do we have to be attached to Igbo because our language is similar? It's like saying Itsekiri is Delta Yoruba. Does that name make any sense?" she asked, and he chuckled.
"Not at all."
"Besides, if they want to share money for all Igbo people now, they will remember that time that we are not part of them," Amara said, and Michael laughed.
'Preach to her.' Michael heard it again.
"Are you a Christian?" Michael asked, and she nodded.
"Yes. I'm even a chorister," before she could speak further, her phone rang out with a text message notification, and she winced with embarrassment at the tone.
She opened the text and saw it was from Ada. [Even though you behave like a goat, I will still advise you. So, about what you said, although I don't think she should go into runs sha. But that aunty that is offering to put her into it and take eighty percent is a wicked person. If she can spend so much money to clean her up and put her in runs, why not help her instead with the money? I think that Aunty wants to use her sha. Let her not do it.]
Amara sighed inwardly as she read through the text, and for a moment, she forgot that she had company.
"Is everything okay?" Michael asked, and she looked up with a smile.
"Yes. I should get going now. When you open, I will patronize you," she said, and Michael smiled.
"I hope you don't get sick and need medicine," he said, and she laughed.
"I thought people that own Pharmacies pray for people to be sick? How will you make money if people don't need to buy medicine?" She asked, and he shrugged.
"It's not only medicine for sick people that we sell. There are supplements and other things people can buy. And those that don't take good care of their health will need medicine for sick people," he said, and she grinned.
"Alright. I will buy those that are not for sick people. Bye," she said with a slight wave before walking away.
As Michael watched her go, he felt troubled in his spirit. He had disobeyed. He didn't preach to her.
She had said she was a Christian and was even in the choir, so what was there to preach to her about?
'I didn't ask you to ask her if she is a Christian. I asked you to preach.'
"What could I have said to someone who is a Christian?" Michael muttered with a frown.
'I would have put the right words in your mouth if you obeyed.'
Michael frowned and stepped out of the pharmacy to see if she was still close by so he could preach to her, but she had left. There was no trace of her.
"When next I see her, I will preach to her," Michael promised himself as he returned inside the building.