By Promise Adiele
In response to a notice inviting academic papers for publication in a foreign journal with the title “Vice or Virtue: Humanity and Professions”, I submitted an abstract… My abstract was accepted… I decided to use Barnard Shaw’s play “Mrs. Warren’s Profession” as a template to interrogate the tensions of vice and virtue as opposites inextricably intertwined with each other.
For those who may not know, “Mrs. Warren’s Profession” is a play that recounts the story of Mrs. Kitty Warren, a one-time prostitute who, through the proceeds of her profession, could send her daughter Vivie to university.
Do the proceeds from prostitution aid the enablement of what we see as a virtue in society? Do prostitutes pay tithes and offerings to churches for prosperity in their profession? Are there married men, who defile the sanctity of their conjugal union by patronising prostitutes? Are there married women who desecrate the spiritual altar of their marriage by exchanging their bodies for money and positions? Finally, what group of people constitutes the clientele of prostitution?
For answers to these questions, I decided to interview a prostitute. Opebi in Ikeja was the venue. Standing on six-inch heels, her clothes clung tightly to her body accentuating the seductive outlines of her provocative, sumptuous endowments. Her legs stood out like a well polished and chiselled piece of furniture. Her skin glittered under the semi-darkness of the night like the smoothness of the sea. The beauty of her physiognomy could disarm a whole satanic army. She was like the mythical mermaid from the depth of the ocean. As she walked, one would think she had no bones in her waist. Parts of her body shook as if they would disintegrate into multiple fragments, yet they were sewn and held together by an unseen hand. God is indeed the ultimate sculptor.
I pulled over to her and stopped. She slowly cat-walked to my car. “Hi”, I blurted. “Good evening, sir”, she replied, her sonorous voice making an instant impression on me.
She: Where are we going to and what can you offer?
Me: Well, my mission is different. I want to have a discussion with you for 30 minutes. I will pay you.
She: This is new. Are you a secret police agent?
Me: No, I am not. I am a lecturer, researching prostitution. I want to hear from the horse’s mouth, I have a recorder. I will ask you some questions.
She: I hope your recorder does not have a camera.
Me: No, it doesn’t, you can examine it.
Five minutes later, we found a table and two empty chairs beside a posh hotel. Instantly, I set out to work.
Me: What is your name?
She: My name is Cynthia. (The cynical smile that graced her face betrayed her efforts at honesty.)
Me: Let me admit that you are a beautiful young lady. I am wondering whether you are not thinking of getting married and having a family.
She: I will marry when I want. First, I want to make money before starting a family.
Me: Do you think you will find a husband here?
She: No, not here. If I dress up properly and meet a man in a shopping mall, church or banking hall, will he know this side of me? The answer is no. Many of my colleagues here on the streets got married to highly placed people in the society. Some of you celebrate them. So, I will marry when I want (smiles).
Me: So, tell me, why and how did you become a prostitute?
She: (Smiles) Well, after my NCE, I proceeded to university to study Mass Communication. Then my father died. After my youth service, I got a job, as a reporter with a national newspaper. For seven months, I was not paid any salary. With a widowed mother and three younger ones to take care of, life became difficult. One day, I was sent to the city to interview a politician. He liked me and for the first time, I slept in a five star hotel. He gave me good money and promised me lots of things. Well, he didn’t fulfil any of the promises and never picked my calls again. That taught me a lesson, politicians are established in deceit and failed promises. Then I hit the streets.
Me: (Nonplussed) Don’t you think it is sheer moral depravity for you to pull your clothes for a stranger just because of money?
She: (Draws a long breath and sighs) Well, everyone is guilty of moral depravity in this country.
Me: No, you can’t generalise in that way…
She: (Cuts in) Sir, what it takes me to pull my clothes for a stranger is what it takes any government or employer of labour to owe workers for several months without salaries. Moral depravity has no gradation. Moral depravity is when our leaders oversee the daily strangulation of the masses through economic hardship, watching our economy shrink, watching our people die like mosquitoes in the hands of terrorists and bandits with propaganda machinery to defend the ugly trend. Moral depravity is a selective fight against corruption when those who have despoiled this country to stupor walk the streets as free men while petty thieves languish in jail.
Me: Please, kindly answer my questions…
She: (Cuts in) Sir, it is the same moral depravity that will cause the deployment of soldiers to unleash mayhem on innocent protesters and consign youths to their early graves. Moral depravity is the tacit support for herdsmen, who are killing people all over the country without a voice raised by the government. Moral depravity is when we take loans from China, abandon our refineries but go to the Niger Republic to refine petroleum products, which are in turn imported back to us. Suddenly, the landlocked Niger Republic has become an oil-producing country. It is more than moral depravity, it is a shame. Mr. Lecturer, please research the relationship between Nigeria and Niger Republic. Moral depravity is when a country finances terrorism by stage-managing a kidnap incident and paying the terrorists a whopping $4 million. Sir, how come none of the schoolboys could speak simple English, not even the head boy? Moral depravity is when a president addresses the so-called kidnapped schoolboys in Hausa instead of English, our lingua franca. It is either because the president cannot speak English or he knows the boys don’t understand English. Moral depravity is….
Me: Look, you must not….
She: (Cuts in) Wait sir, let me finish. You asked about moral depravity and I am explaining it to you. Moral depravity is when lawmakers earn colossal amounts of money and are crippled by surplus while many people wallow in deprivations and are devastated by need.
Me: Look…you see…are you sure…
She: (Cuts in) You think because I stand on the road at night, I don’t know what is happening in this country? Don’t forget I was once a journalist and I had a good education. I am not more morally depraved than the politicians, lawyers, engineers, pastors, and businessmen, who troop here every night to patronise prostitutes.
Me: It’s enough please, it’s…
She: (Cuts in) No, it’s not enough. Our people must rise to engage the politicians, the elected officeholders, public and private service providers, to hold them accountable, to rise against the daily criminality that goes on in government circles, courts, banks, police, military, and other public agencies.
Me: Our time is up. I shall visit you again and we will conclude this interview.
She: Hold on, Mr. Lecturer; let me remind you that moral depravity includes all those who are quick to condemn prostitutes but are very slow to condemn an incompetent government. Anyone who looks away while our country is gradually being submerged by an unconscionable leadership is morally depraved. Anyone who fails to speak out against bad governance is morally depraved.
Oga, our people must soro soke. The sophistry and hypocrisy in our country must stop. Nobody has any moral justification to condemn prostitution or armed robbery while supporting a more heinous and morally depraved government.
Me: (Completely dazed) I must leave now; thanks for your time. (With trembling fingers, I fidgeted in my pocket and paid her the agreed sum). I whispered to myself – into what dangers will research lead me?
(Abridged)
Dr. Adiele, convener, Third Force Movement, teaches in the Department of English, Mountain Top University