Nigerians have come to terms with the phenomenon of ghost workers and ghost pensioners. Going by the recent discoveries in the ministries, departments and agencies (MDAs) at the state and federal levels, close to 30 percent of the workforce come from the graves every month to collect wages and pension entitlements. The third tier of government is also not left behind in the dirty scheme of things. All the 744 local government councils across the land have their own share of ghost staff on their payrolls.
Billions of naira are lost to ghost tenders. While those that collect the wages and entitlements on behalf of these hapless spirits are living like kings acquiring choice properties all over the place, the ghosts are abandoned to starve in their graves!
However, the phenomenon took a strange dimension recently in a suburb of Mushin, Lagos, when a ghost commercial sex worker was picked by a banker after a binge at a hotel at about 1 a.m. The banker (let us call him Sunday), was vacationing in the area. He was a chronic bachelor and womanizer who refused to be scared by the presence of the dreaded HIV/AIDS because he believed his immune system was too strong for the incurable syndrome. As such, Sunday operated without any form of protection like the condom.
At his station in Abuja, his close friends had done everything possible to get him to abandon his immoral lifestyle. His churchmanship is not in doubt. A faithful tither who is active in virtually all church activities, Sunday’s major weaknesses were women and booze. His pastor tried in vain to lead him to Christ. All efforts to match-make him with some sisters in his church yielded no positive results. He merely used them and dumped them to the chagrin of the pastor.
It was at the point that everybody had given up on him, surrendering him to the sex demon, that Sunday had the encounter with the ghost prostitute. In his characteristic manner, he picked the pretty-looking prostitute by the wayside, struck a deal with her and the duo headed for his hotel room. Midway to the hotel, Sunday attempted to light a stick of cigarette but his partner protested. What manner of prostitute is this?… he wondered in his mind. On getting into the hotel room, he ordered some drinks to put them in the mood but the prostitute would not have anything to do with alcohol either. More wonders!
When it was time for action, the prostitute requested that the lights be turned off. Thinking she was the shy type, he obliged her. As soon as that was done, a strange air enveloped the room. He felt like the size of his head had quadrupled. Frightened, he groped for the switch to turn on the light. Nothing came on. At first, he thought there was power outage. Then, through a reflection from the window, he saw on the bed what looked like a coffin.
He panicked and rushed for the door but it would not open. His attempt to raise an alarm but his voice failed him.
After a short while, the coffin disappeared from the room, leaving Sunday’s bones to quake in fear all night long. It was the longest night in his lifetime. He went on his knees and thanked God for rescuing him from the fringes of lunacy. He realized that he had carried his “sexcapade” beyond the limit. At the cracks of dawn, he hurriedly checked out of the hotel three days ahead of his departure date. He could not risk driving his car back to Abuja. So, he arranged with the hotel manager to leave the car behind.
On arrival in Abuja, he went straight to the church where he narrated his strange encounter to his pastor. He needed no further prodding or persuasion to give his life to Christ. It took a ghost prostitute to achieve overnight what Sunday’s pastor and Christian brethren could not accomplish in years. He has also resolved to settle down and is prayerfully shopping for his missing rib among the sisters he had rejected.