Following Valerie's instruction, Amara moved out of her place the following day and moved in with Valerie.
Valerie spent the next couple of weeks upgrading Amara. She started by taking Amara to the spa for a makeover, which was quickly followed by changing Amara's wardrobe down to her undies.
Next, she signed Amara up for makeup and hair styling classes so she could learn how to do nice makeup and style her wigs. She had also gotten rid of Amara's techno torchlight phone and got her an iPhone instead.
In less than two months, Amara was totally transformed from a local girl into a clean chic, and she could barely recognize herself.
Even her chapped nails were covered by long, colorful nails, making it difficult for her to do anything with her hands.
"Bush girl. Don't worry; you'll get used to it soon," Valerie had told her when she complained that she could barely even type on her phone or wash her hands because of the nails.
Eventually, they settled for press-on nails so that she could easily remove them to do other tasks, such as cleaning the house.
Those were not the only things that Valerie changed. Even her name had been changed.
"Amara sounds too local," Valerie had said, "We need a more befitting name. Something that sounds classy and rolls off the tongue easily. Jasmine. Yes. I like Jasmine."
"What about Amy? It still sounds like a short version of Amara, and it'll be easier for me to adopt it," Amara had suggested, and eventually, they settled for Amy.
And that was how Amara adopted the name Amy.
"Make sure you use a condom. Always go with a condom. If they say they forgot to get some, offer them your own. Never, I repeat, never allow any of them to have sex with you without a condom. Some will say they prefer it raw; let them go and do it with their wives. No condom, no sex!" Valerie warned as she handed Amara a pack of condoms an hour before their first outing.
"Another thing, don't forget. My cut is eighty percent. The earlier you pay it all, the better for you. If you choose to be greedy and hide money, you will keep doing this for a long time."
"I won't disappoint you," Amara promised, even though she had no idea the total money she was supposed to pay.
In the following weeks, Valerie took Amara to various high-class parties and introduced her to wealthy men.
It was hard the first time, but Amara did it. The second time, it was less difficult, and by the time she had done it several times, it had become easier, and she had gotten the hang of it.
She didn't enjoy it—no, she never did. After she got back from each job, she would cry under the shower and scrub her body so hard that her fair skin was red. But then, the very next week or days after, she would get back to work.
No matter how disgusted she was by what she did or how uncomfortable it was, it was better than returning to her former state of never having enough to give her family.
Soon, days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and before Amara knew it, two years had passed, and she was still no better than she was when she started.
She didn't have an apartment and still lived in Valerie's guest room. Thankfully, she was able to send her family money often, but that was the only thing she had been able to do.
She had not made nor sold any clothes in two years because she had sold her sewing machine after Valerie promised to get her a better one and open a nice fashion house for her with the money she was saving with her.
Valerie had ensured that the men always made advance payments directly to her account before she went with them. If any of them gave her extra money, she made sure to give eighty percent of it to Valerie, all in a bid to meet the payment and be free quickly.
Yet, despite all the money she remitted to Valerie every time she went out with a client, Valerie claimed her debt was yet to be fully paid.
Frustrated, Amara decided to talk to her about it one afternoon when they were both at home watching the television together.
"Valerie," Amara called quietly, wanting to get her attention.
"Yes, dear," Valerie responded with a smile as she turned away from the television to look at her.
"It's been two years since I moved in with you and started this runs business. I've remitted more than ten million Naira to you over the past two years. When is it going to be complete? I'm not seeing anything I'm working for. I didn't plan to do this or be here for this long. I thought I would have my own fashion store and establish a business for my family by now. How much did you spend, and when will it be complete? I'm tired," she said, and Valerie watched her with a blank expression.
"Did you not read the agreement you signed?" Valerie asked, and Amara's brows pulled together.
"The agreement said I would be free after I paid off the money you spent," Amara said as she sat up in her seat.
"It said you will keep paying me for five years…"
"Five years? No! That wasn't our agreement," Amara said, shaking her head.
"Go and check your copy of our agreement," Valerie said. Amara quickly got off the couch and hurried to her room, her heart pounding.
She pulled open the drawer where she had kept the folded document for the past two years. The paper was slightly crumpled from being shoved away carelessly, but it still held the promise she had once believed in.
She sat down on the edge of her bed and unfolded the document, reading it slowly, her eyes scanning each word as if it might betray her.
Her fingers trembled as she traced the lines of text with her fingertip, recalling the day she had signed it against her better judgment.
Valerie had promised her it would only be a matter of time before she could own her own fashion store and support her family. But now, reading the words on the paper, she realized she had missed something critical.
Her heart sank as she read the words on the paper. The agreement clearly stated that she would remit eighty percent of her earnings to Valerie for five years. She blinked, trying to absorb the words.
How had she missed that?
Amara stood up, the paper still in her hands, and walked back to the living room, where Valerie was waiting. A sudden wave of anger and betrayal swelled inside her, but she controlled it.
She couldn't afford to lose control now.
Valerie didn't look surprised when Amara returned with the document in hand. "Well?" she asked calmly.
Amara held the paper out to her, her voice tight. "You tricked me, Valerie. All these years, you know how hard I worked to pay back. Why didn't you tell me this?"
Valerie took the paper and glanced at it, then set it down on the table, her expression unreadable. "I told you everything you needed to know, Amy. You signed it, didn't you? It's not my fault that you didn't read it carefully."
"I... I thought—" Amara stopped herself. What had she thought? That Valerie had her best interest at heart? That Valerie cared about her?
"I trusted you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the hurt was evident.
Valerie leaned back in her chair. "I'm not a bad person, Amy. We are all trying to survive here. I gave you a way out. You should be grateful. Look at you. Have you forgotten the way you were when we started? Go stand in front of the mirror and look at yourself."
"Grateful?" Amara echoed incredulously. "Did you feed me for free? Have I not been the one sleeping with all those disgusting men?"
Valerie remained quiet, her eyes studying Amara's face. "What's the reason for this outburst? You're doing well. Your mother has received treatment, and she is better. Did I commit a crime by helping you?"
"I'm tired. I'm fed up. This isn't the life I planned for myself. I don't want to be like you. I want to get married and have kids. I want to be decent," Amara said before she could stop herself.
Valerie sighed, not offended by the insult, "You can always do that after you've settled me and set up yourself," she said slowly, her tone more serious now. "The life you want... it takes time. Nothing comes easily, Amy. You should know that by now."
The tears Amara had been holding back for so long threatened to spill, but she held them in. "I don't want this life anymore."
"Then what do you want?" Valerie asked, sounding angry now.
"I want out," Amara finally said, her voice firm. "You can take back everything you bought me. I don't want the,m anymore…"
Before she could finish speaking Valerie threw back her head and laughed. "You must be joking."
"No, I'm not. I can't do this for three more years. I want my own life."
Valerie didn't say anything right away. She simply watched Amara with an unreadable expression. Then, slowly, she leaned forward and looked her directly in the eyes. "What happens to the rest of the money you owe me?"
"We both know you've taken much more from me than you ever spent on me. I'm not paying you any more money. Take me to court if you want," Amara said boldly.
"Is this how you want it?" Valerie asked, her eyebrow arched.
"Yes! I want out," Amara repeated boldly.
"Okay. You've already been booked for tonight. Go for tonight's appointment, and after that, you are free to go," she said, and Amara's eyes narrowed.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. But it's on the condition that I won't give you back any of the money you've been saving with me," she said with a smirk, confident that Amara would change her mind.
Amara considered it for a moment. She couldn't just walk away without enough money. She had been counting on her savings to help her stand on her feet after she quit, so she wouldn't have to sleep with men for money ever again.
Seeing the smirk on Valerie's face, Amara could tell this was a bait. Valerie was saying this to make her change her mind, but she wasn't sure if she could trust Valerie anymore.
What if she went on to work for five more years and Valerie failed to give her the money then?
"You don't have to make up your mind now. There's no need to act rashly. Tomorrow, you can give me a response," Valerie advised sweetly as she rose. "Go get ready to leave for your appointment," she said, tapping Amara's shoulder.
As Amara walked away, she didn't look back. She knew without a doubt that she was done working to fill someone else's pocket.
If Valerie wanted that money, she'd let her keep it. She'd rather they go their separate ways now than spend any more time with someone she could no longer trust.