Inside ‘strange’ brothel where sex workers charge Tinubu supporters extra fee

Is there a brothel here close by? This reporter asked a woman in her early fifties whose store is next to Esa-Oke garage at Ilesa roundabout. She responded muddled, “Bronteli,” as she struggled to take her phone out of her purse.

This reporter had a sneaking suspicion that she was ignorant of what a “brothel” actually is. Do you know of any brothels in the area, like, Se e mo ile Olosho to wa ni to si ibi yin? Later, this reporter asked her in Nigerian native tongue, Yoruba.

As she makes her way from her business to the main road, the woman remarks that the closest brothel is situated next to that big church on this road and gestures in that direction. Following her lead, the reporter came across a sign post that read, “Methodist Cathedral, Otapepe, Ilesa.” A road that can accommodate motorbikes or small cars is located on the corner next to this church.

This reporter was walking along the road when he noticed an antique structure perched on a rock with a bluish-colored entryway due to color bulbs infront of the building. The reporter was greeted with the smell of marijuana or cigarettes emanating from a corner at the left side of the building filled with six young men. This reporter saw that the building is split into two sections as he passed via the stairs. The structure has a bar in one area, and sex workers utilize the other area’s rooms for their operations.

Solar light positioned at the extreme end of the church

The reporter later learned that a customer who comes with a partner can use two rooms in the back of the bar for a fast nap or “quicky.” A frequent slang term for quick or hasty sex is “quicky.” This reporter had to purchase two Chesterfield cigarettes, which he lit while moving about the establishment while pretending to be on the phone, in order to avoid suspicion at the bar.

He noticed that the brothel is mostly frequented by Hausa and Yoruba people who are likely in their early forties to late fifties while seated at the bar with two cigarettes in hand.

This reporter looked around, wondering what kind of ‘strange’ brothel this was. The large church is close to the brothel. The majority of sex workers are single mothers and each sex worker pays N10500 per week. This reporter had these ideas as he made his way to the bar to take a seat.

The dark spot at the brothel where young men smoke heavily

Divorcees, widowers see brothel as comfort station

A man later identified as Ojo came up to this reporter and stated, “I have not seen your face before, so you must be new here.”

Ojo asserted that he has been using the brothel for many years and that he is well-liked because he connects with everyone. In fact, a few people believe I own this location. Ojo said to the reporter as he placed a second order for beer, “I started coming here after my wife left my house with our kids.

Passage of the section of building where sex workers operate

A man in his early forties approached our table and touched Ojo on the shoulders, they both chuckled and greeted each other. The reporter was ready to respond to Ojo when the other man entered the room.

Tunji, as he was later known, pulled a chair over to our table and sat down. So you come here to find peace, but can you really live on it for very long? the reporter clapped back at Ojo.

Honestly, no, yet it is preferable to remain at home experiencing terrible flashbacks. Here, I prefer. In order to pass the time, I occasionally drank and laughed. Therefore, this location is preferable than my home, which always reminds me of my terrible state, Ojo remarked, sounding rather forlorn.

We were being stopped by Tunji, who describes the brothel as a place where unhappy guys, regardless of circumstance, go to unwind and have fun. Tunji presumably could not take not being a part of the discourse.

Entrance of one of the rooms at the brothel

I’ve lost my wife. My wife died six years ago. Due to my four children, I made the decision not to get married again. I come here every night to drink beer and sometimes just to unwind, a 52-year-old man stated.

The widower claims that he made friends with Ojo on the very first day he stepped foot in this brothel because Ojo is vivacious, outgoing, and accommodating.

We are now getting close. I’ve told him to get remarried and start a family because I’m his older brother. He is unable to maintain his solitude. I reside with my children. There is still life after his ex-wife and their children split up. Tunji was concerned that Ojo needed to understand that after falling, one must make an effort to get back up and move around.

When the reporter asked Tunji which beer he thought tasted better—Trophy or Goldberg—he ordered four bottles of Trophy at a cost of N500 each for the two buddies. The main motivation behind the purchase was to show them how much he valued their time and to keep the conversation at the table from getting personal.

Do you not drink beer? Tunji enquired while he was attempting to open another bottle. This reporter got up from the table and said, “I’m going to go and patronize sex workers,” in their ears. As he left the bar to go to the other half of the building, they laughed and hailed him.

It was already 8:35 o’clock when the reporter looked at his watch. Only five women were dancing in front of the building when this writer saw them, and the other two were in the passageway talking to two little boys. The likelihood that some workers were present in the room when he counted them makes it impossible for this reporter to determine the exact number of sex workers at the brothel.

Backdoor of the brothel leading to where they dump used condoms and tissue

Customers who cannot afford hotels can spend the night at the brothel

A woman with brown skin was watching others dance from a bench as this reporter approached her. The woman, later named as Grace, is an Enugu state native and the single mother of three children. She rose up as the reporter approached her, hanging her body to catch his attention.

Can we have a discussion? This reporter enquired. I’m not here to discuss. This isn’t a radio station, either. She said aggressively, “I’m here on business. She was comforted by this reporter, who explained that his only goal was to inquire about her fees.

A picture of the roof without ceilings

You will be charged N1500 if we now enter my chamber. The cost of transportation would be N2500 if you seek service at your residence. You will pay N6000 if you sleep here and N7000 if you want me to follow you home if you like night service like a select few others, she retorted.

When this reporter questioned her about treating him coldly, she apologized and gave the explanation of “choking bills.”

I have to pay rent for the space I inhabit, and we give the building’s owner N10,500 per week, or N1500 per day. I am in charge of taking care of my children who live with my mother. We are currently in the third week of August, and they would resume in September, Grace informed the reporter.

The reporter declares, “I would prefer the night service.” She was handed N1500, and the reporter took her phone number with the promise to call her by 10 o’clock after she was through at the brothel. Before following clients who prefer night service to their location, sex workers stay at the brothel until 10 or 10:30 p.m.

You can also pay less fees if you vote for Peter Obi or a supporter.

Seven minutes later, another man showed up and chose Grace as his favorite. The reporter asked Agnes, a fair-skinned woman, how much it would cost for them to have a private moment. She stated N1500.

She continued, “If you’ve used drugs to stay longer, I’ll push you out if you can’t help me make more money.” Is N1500 not high? This reporter questioned her, “I thought it was N1000.” She said they were forced to raise the prices in order to reflect the reality of the market.

Yam tubers now cost N1000. Rice and beans are now more expensive as well. Fuel costs N600 for a litre. Every expense has gone up, including rent and school costs. Even bikers now receive N200 for each drop. Why then don’t we also raise her fare? She asked the reporter as she gently touched his chest, possibly to entice him.

This reporter said, “You’re correct. He continued, “That’s why we always encourage people to turn out and vote in every election so that we can choose decent leaders. Votes do not count in Nigeria. Dem don already know the winner. She said in pidgin as we both walked to her room, “Na exercise we citizens dey do.”

In the second half of the building, this reporter counted eight rooms, but he saw that the rooms were not split with plywood by sex workers like others. It can be as a result of the low number of sex workers in comparison to other places, he assumed.

When we got inside her room, which was just a floor bed and a little table where she had a bag and some toilet paper. A black nylon bag containing used condoms and tissue paper was also discovered in the room. Before starting to take down her short skirt, she made the N1500 charge demand. She declined a N1,000 note from the reporter who had asked her to accept it.

According to the reporter, the nation is challenging and this conduct (sex) is required.
You Yorubas disregarded our request to support Peter Obi and chose to support your son instead.

The nation would currently be in a better place if you had done it. Because of the sharp decline in consumer spending, the weak economy also affects us, says a disturbed Agnes.

My vote went to Peter Obi. To know what she could have done if he had voted for Peter Obi, this reporter had to lie. I even canvassed for him. Remember that this reporter took part in the election coverage.

You can pay N1200 per cum if Peter Obi was your choice. According to Agnes, if you voted for Atiku Abubakar, you can pay N1300 per cum, but if you voted for Tinubu, you must pay N1500, and if you stay longer, you will be pushed aside.

The reporter gave her N1500 as she fumbled with her skirt. The reporter requested permission to purchase water from the bar since he was feeling dehydrated. Agnes was observed lying half-naked on the bed and requesting that the reporter go as she made her way to the door.

It was already 9: 48 p.m. when this reporter checked the time again, but the first sex worker, Grace, and his new pals, Ojo and Tunji, were nowhere to be seen. She most likely shares a space with another male. This reporter said good-bye to the men smoking heavily in the corner as he slowly descended the stairs. They didn’t say hello back to him.

This reporter bowed his head and wondered why the bulk of the sex workers at the brothel are single mothers as he walked closer to the road.

As he made his way home, he was thinking about two sex workers: one who had given him her phone number and would be waiting for his calls by 10 or 10:30 p.m.; the other, who was half-naked on the bed and was waiting for the reporter to arrive.

The reporter exclaims as he leaves the brothel, “I really hope they’ll pardon me.”

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