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The Trap
My hands were shaking.
I bought airtime from a nearby kiosk and dialed the number on the torn paper before I could change my mind.
It rang more than once. Then finally, someone picked up.
“Hello?”
The voice was sharp. Female. Rushed.
“Goo… good evening, ma. I'm calling about the nanny job…”
“Can you start tomorrow?” The voice cut me off.
I blinked.
Tomorrow?
“Yes, ma.”
“9 a.m. Maitama. You will be given a uniform on arrival. Don't be late.”
Click.
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
No “What's your name?”
No “Are you qualified?”
No questions at all.
Just harsh. Rude. Like I was already a problem.
But I got the job, anyway.
And for ₦100,000, I wasn't going to complain.
The next morning, 9 a.m., at Maitama.
The gate was big.
So big.
But the mansion was bigger.
My slippers felt dirty against the marble floor.
I looked down at my feet and suddenly became conscious of every crack and stain on my old slippers.
“Follow me.”
A woman in her 40s, face tight, eyes scanning me like I was a thief.
“That must be the house manager,” I thought.
I followed her quietly.
In the sitting room stood a man.
Tall.
Neatly ironed collar.
No smile.
That's Alfred, my boss.
He didn't look up from his laptop.
“You're the nanny?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered with carefulness and fear.
“Don't break anything. Don't be noisy. Madam Steph will put you through. That's the house manager.”
That was all.
Cold, like the air conditioner.
I swallowed.
Then I heard it.
Tiny footsteps.
“Are you my new mama?”
A little girl of about four years old stood there, holding a teddy bear.
Sparkling eyes.
Hair in two puffs.
That's Pamela.
My heart broke instantly.
“No, little one. I'm Simi. I'm here to take care of you.”
Pamela looked at me like she could feel my pain.
“But where's my mama? She traveled? When is Mama coming back?”
Three questions at once.
Questions I wasn't definitely going to answer.
I glanced toward Alfred.
He didn't even look up.
Suddenly, a lady of about 30 years of age came down.
Dress.
Makeup.
Perfume that filled the room.
Lady Vivian.
Alfred's fiancée.
Her eyes landed on me, from head to toe, slowly.
Then she smirked.
“So you are the new nanny?” she said, with hate already in her voice.
“Yes, ma.”
“Don't touch my things. Don't talk to Alfred. Understood?”
I froze for a second.
Why would she warn me about talking to Alfred on my first day?
Before I could even think about it, she turned and walked away.
I stood there.
₦100,000 monthly?
First day?
And already, I had three enemies: a cold boss, a little girl who wanted her mama, and a woman who hated me on sight.
Then Madam Steph came forward.
She handed me a packaged dress. That was my uniform.
I was directed to the guest room to change quickly for work.
At about 1 p.m., I was really worried about Henry.
I quickly rushed into the bathroom and locked the door with shaking hands.
The tiles were cold under my feet.
I needed air.
Though the air was enough, I needed more.
I pulled out the cheap phone and dialed the hospital with my last credit.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then a nurse picked up.
“Good afternoon… please, can I speak to Ward 5? About Henry Wilfred?”
A pause.
“He's sleeping. Temperature is normal.”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank God.”
For the first time since I arrived at the mansion, I felt my chest loosen a little.
“The bill is still ₦95,000, remember. The doctor said if it's not cleared in a week, they'll discharge him, but…”
The nurse didn't finish.
“I know, ma. I'll pay very soon.”
My voice was already teary.
“Till then, Miss, try your best.”
The call ended.
I slid down the bathroom wall.
Tears rolled down, hot and silent.
“₦100,000 monthly in this unfriendly environment? Henry, I'm doing this for you,” I said inaudibly.
I wiped my face, stood up, and straightened my uniform.
Time to go back out there.
To Pamela.
To Vivian.
To Alfred.
And to Madam Steph, even.
The price had started.
And I had no choice but to pay it.
As I stepped out of the restroom, Madam Steph called.
“Come.”
She didn't smile.
I walked fast, like I was already late.
“This is the kitchen. Don't touch the big fridge. That is for Mr. Alfred and Vivian. Yours is that small one out there.”
I nodded.
“This is the sitting room. Don't sit here. Don't watch TV, only when they say so.”
I looked around the huge room.
There were rules everywhere.
“Upstairs is Alfred's room, Vivian's room, and Pamela's room. You sleep in the BQ behind the house.”
My room was small.
One bed.
One small standing fan.
One bulb.
It smelled like bleach.
I looked at the bed.
At least it was a roof over my head.
Madam Steph opened Pamela's room last.
Beautiful toys were scattered everywhere.
A pink bed with a butterfly-like bed frame.
The AC was on full blast.
“Pamela likes her meal warm, especially her milk. Her clothes must be ironed. She eats exactly at 8 a.m. Don't be late.”
I looked at the toys and thought of Henry's empty hospital bed.
I answered, “Yes, ma.”
“Good. Work starts now.”
And work started for real.
I washed Pamela's clothes.
Ironed the dried ones.
Cleaned her playground.
The little girl followed me everywhere with her playing toys.
“Mama, hold my hand.”
I would correct her softly.
“Baby, my name is Simi.”
Pamela would just nod and call me “Mama” again three minutes later.
Every time she called me that, something pinched inside my chest.
At 7 p.m., I fed her mashed potatoes and non-spicy sauce.
She fell asleep later.
Not quite long after, the gate opened.
Car tires.
The engine went off.
Then silence.
He walked in, loosening his tie, his face still cold.
He looked at me lustfully for a few seconds, then looked away.
Alfred sometimes acted like he was sexually starved, but he carried himself with professionalism.
“Where's my little princess?”
That was all he asked me.
“Asleep, sir, since 7:30 p.m.,” I answered, selecting my words.
His eyes stayed on me for another second before he walked past.
He went straight upstairs.
Into Pamela's room.
He stood by her bed for some minutes, kissed her forehead, and fixed back her blanket.
Then he went to his room.
That was it.
That was the only thing he cared about.
Dinner in that house was normally at 9 p.m., but this time, it was served 15 minutes behind the time.
Madam Steph handed me a plate of rice and sauce.
“Eat and sleep.”
That was the whole conversation.
I ate alone at a small table by the fridge.
At every scoop, I thought of Henry.
What could he possibly eat tonight?
“The nurses won't give him medications without food, anyway,” I said to console myself.
The house was big and too quiet.
Just the sound of the AC buzzing.
Something felt unnatural about the whole quietness.
“Maybe because it's my first day at work,” I thought.
But no.
Something was really unnatural behind the tall walls of the mansion.
I took my plate to my room, unwashed.
I was afraid to touch the rich man's sink.
I lay on the hard bed and stared at the ceiling.
The fan was blowing slowly.
I needed more air than the fan could produce.
Nobody talked to anybody.
Around 10 p.m., the compound felt like I was the only one staying there.
I was tired.
My body hurt from the work I wasn't used to, but it was still better than hawking under the hot sun at Jabi.
I closed my eyes, ready to sleep.
Then I remembered again.
Henry.
The reason why I'm here.
I pulled out my phone.
The wallpaper was a picture of Henry with his gap teeth, smiling.
It was taken two months ago.
Before the complicated malaria that landed him in the hospital.
Tears fell before I could stop them.
I pressed the phone to my chest and prayed silently.
“God, please. Just let him be okay.”
I thought about life.
When Mama was still alive.
When Dad hadn't left for the journey of no return.
When I didn't have to care about my next meal.
I wished I could turn back the hands of time.
Amidst my thoughts was a TAP… TAP… TAP.
Footsteps walking past my door.
Slowly.
I sat up fast.
Heart pounding.
Could it be Alfred?
Or was it Miss Vivian?
The footsteps stopped right outside my door.