Jane, interrupted.

Published:22 Feb, 2013

The scene that plays on the subscribed adult television channel suggests the possibility of females camaraderie being somewhat intense than that of males. In one scene, a group of females with varying age brackets meet for lunch on a Sunday afternoon. The age grades are far apart; girls of eighteen sit beside women of forty. They go on as if life hasn’t happened to them; the women of forty talking about their undiluted passion for all things sexual. Their sentences are carefully but heavily punctuated with popular explicit words that are however not recognised by the English dictionary. They go on nonetheless, particularly loving it that the younger ladies are getting along with them as planned. The young ladies- between eighteen and early twenty-something- are really getting along with them. They giggle and mutter their false unbelief at the audacity of these old women who seem okay with the falling standards of everything around them. Soon, the old women are rewarded with the participation of the young interns. The young ladies join in one by one. Each, feeling the temperature of the water by carefully putting her toes in first, dabbles into the serious but awkward conversation. One is confused about the stare his boyfriend’s younger brother gives her whenever they are alone together. In response, one of the more vocal older women encourages her to sleep with the brothers and keep the one that forgives her afterwards.

“Oh my gosh!” The young ladies scream.

Mrs Vocal repeats herself and laughs with the shrieking ladies who are now reeling in their unbelief at the audacity of these old women that are as old as their mothers. Encouraged by the first confessor, another lady takes the plunge. This one doesn’t like oral sex. She says shyly that the taste of it makes her sick.

“Well, there is nothing wrong in receiving if you can’t give.” Mrs Vocal counsels again.

The shy confessor smiles shyly and confesses further that she loves receiving. Everybody laugh now. Thereafter, just like kids just meeting each other for the first time at a friend’s birthday party, they warm up to each other and more secret fantasies are revealed to the delight of all…


Jane stretches on the long couch. A unique sensation surges through her. She looks at the fading screen as the short adult movie slowly comes to an end. She looks again at her phone, thinking she could have missed the call while engrossed in the movie. Lately, she has been watching movies like these. Clara has told her a couple of time that she is not alone in this. She has told Jane a couple of time that in fact, the only time a female can truly bond is when she is in the company of other women. Clara would know this. She is the one that has all the answers to all questions the girls have. Even now that they are all out of that secondary school that was similar to a military camp. In that school then, an all-girls secondary boarding school, juniors were rookies, bitches, civilians, – while seniors were experienced lovers, men, high-ranking military officers. The maxim then was to obey first and then complain later. It didn’t matter what the command was. From washing your senior’s undies to lying placidly on your back, in your bed, while she satisfy her lust on your well rounded breasts first and then between your shaking legs, you obey first and complain later. The thing was, however, your complaints might not get you out of the quagmire. If they did anything at all; your complaints, they would make you an outcast. Juniors quickly discerned that an outcast was the last thing you want to be in a military-like setting secondary school. It was a classic example of the age long maxim that says ‘If you can’t beat them, join them.’

Seniors were lords then. Clara was and still is. She took interest in Jane in her second year. Favours were extended towards her by Clara in the form of rearrangements. First she was moved from her original hostel to Clara’s; the hostel most preferred by the girls because of the freedom associated with it because of its high number of seniors that were considered untouchables. Then her bunk was again moved closer to Clara’s after about a week in her new hostel. Jane was about settling down in her new ‘angle’ in her new hostel when she was again moved directly to the bunk on top Clara’s. Jane was an unassuming girl. So when she got to the ‘angle’ of the three double-deck bunks arranged like the half of a square, she thought it was just one of the ways the school authority performed her own type of bureaucracy; seemingly unimportant acts that were mere activities with no corresponding positive results. What was the point in moving students up and down the hostels? Jane was forced to ask on her first night in the new angle.

“The matron didn’t move you, girl.” It was lights out and the juniors in the angle were getting themselves prepped up for sleep with their usual small talks. The seniors had since retired back to the dining hall for the optional further night prep. The girl that replied Jane was petite and pretty with a faraway voice that made her sound angelic. Jane was about to ask “Who did then?” sarcastically when she noticed the smirks on the pretty faces of the other girls. In that dimness too, she noticed white, evenly spaced beautiful dentitions that they portrayed as they smirked then smiled deliciously at each other. And even though Jane was an unassuming young adolescent, she knew the girls knew something she didn’t at that moment of bonding between the three young girls. She was a girl too and these girly things come naturally. Coyly, like the newcomer that she was and that the girls wanted her to admit, she changed her tone from the planned sarcastic to a mild apologetic tone that somehow implied that she wanted to know rather than lecture.

“So who is responsible for this?”

The girls shifted in their different bunks and laughed mildly at Jane.

“You will know soon who is responsible.” The petite girl answered Jane again with more emphasis on the word ‘responsible’ that was necessary. There were silly giggles between the girls that were hurriedly hushed when the matron’s footsteps approached their angle. The matron hit the nearest bunk with the thick and long cane she was holding in a tip-tap motion three times. She said some cautionary words to the sleep-talking girls and moved on down the hall. Jane waited for a few minutes long enough for the matron to walk back from the tail end of the hall to the main entrance, completely out of hearing distance before she asked her question again. There was panic in her voice this time. She had a funny feeling that something was wrong with the way the girls were going on about a simple question. She had a feeling something must be wrong with the girls themselves. Or better still, something must be wrong with her. She must have wronged someone; a senior, probably. Then it hit her like a revelation. The senior she must have offended would be one of the two other girls in the angle that had gone for further night prep. But how grave can an offense be in the secondary school? Jane tried recalling all the misadventures she had had in the past one year she had been in the school. She was just in JSS two. Surely she couldn’t have had much contact with seniors up to the level of offending one to this height.

Life has been undecided about her, Jane muses to herself as she gets up from the long couch, her favourite spot in the executive suite that has been her office for almost a year now. She looks at the wall clock and anticipates the routine. Soon, Clara will call and give her details of her next client. Among the details will be the sexual preferences of her high profile client. She will be a female, of course. Jane walks towards the bathroom for a cold shower in preparation for work. In the bathroom, as the cold rivulets of water rushes down her beautiful body, she imagines what it would be like to be the one to be pleased. To be the one that will have preferences and give conditions.

She had been pleasing people from that night in her secondary school when her girlhood was interrupted by this same Clara. Her mind and body were taken through a detour in a journey that should have been straight. A journey that would have been uninterrupted. That night, Jane’s body responded as if it was programmed for everything Clara did to her. She responded to the calls and hand-guiding as if she was not new to them. That night, all she saw were colours. Her thoughts were in colours. She felt everything in colours and responded colourfully. Albeit she couldn’t resist and therefore submitted herself to the ordeal, Jane managed to dissociate her mind from the event that night. Her body responded but her mind was locked up. That didn’t help her because while she seemed to be a natural, Jane’s was acting. She would push her body forward but restrain her mind. She would surrender her body and imprison her mind. Clara couldn’t get enough of her. Jane became a natural pleaser. She became a favourite among her seniors and with the consent of Clara; Jane became a travelling pleaser in the hostel as her bunk was rearranged every time Clara accepted to a few days exchange with another senior. Jane went through all these incidences with a detached mind. When she became a senior herself, she was still the envy of her mates. She would take a junior under her wings and teach her how to please. She would then loan her out to her mates just as Clara had done with her. She did everything the way Clara taught her. Before Jane graduated from the secondary school, she was already a programmed lesbian. Her body had been completely re-adjusted to only respond to her kinds. In the university, the journey into the abyss of human reinvention of the wheels continued for Jane with the protecting eyes of Clara. With these escapades came lots and lots of luxuries. One of them is the executive suite of this five star hotel that one of her wealthy clients had paid a year rent for.

Nobody could have tried harder than Jane to shake off her second nature though. She fought it with all her inner strength. In the university, she did all that was within her limited power to hide it. Her friends were mostly boys; the unassuming boys thought she was a loose girl. She knew they were stupid. She even allowed one of the boys to call their closeness a relationship. After sleeping with him a couple of time; that was the boy’s way of authenticating their assumed relationship, Jane bounced back to her real life. The boy was boring. He wanted to take and was not prepared to give; not prepared to please. Jane had thought she would get that singular act from him. She thought she would be pleased and not pleasing. There was no use then. And again, the boy didn’t understand her body like her former female lovers. He sucked where he should have licked. He held too strongly where he should have touched tenderly. Jane grovelled for her identity. She didn’t even see her colours. Her body recoiled and her mind even went farther than it normally did. It was a conundrum for Jane. Maybe the boy was just the wrong type, she consoled herself. But after dating and eventually sleeping with another man, this one was married; Jane crawled back into Clara’s welcoming arms. Senior and junior reunited and life for Jane continued on a continuum she was familiar with. And the colours came back into her sexual life.

She is doing it for money now. There women out there who are not satisfied with the way men handle their bodies. Some of them are on the road to discover something that will work for them. Some have reached their destination. Jane supplies these people with their fantasies. For Jane, she still thinks life is undecided about her at twenty-five. Her body responds all the time but her mind remains unattached. Until her body and mind meet and complement each other; until she doesn’t see colours anymore but nothingness, life will be undecided for Jane.

For the present, she is just Jane, interrupted.







  • Rejoice Chiaka

    As interesting as this write up is, I don’t know what Omojuwa is planning to achieve? You’re in a society who make laws for lesbians, but are detached in solving the problem where it all starts? The secondary school.

  • Nikki

    Interesting write- up! He’ s right though.. It all starts in sec sch… Especially wit girls without strong parental guidance. It shld be a choice not forced upon unsuspecting females… God help us..

  • Kay

    I am a guy and attended a boys only school, I had thesame experience with one of my seniors, a school prefect even, I was forcefully coerced to do all sort of crazy things, but one day I made up my mind to refuse, I told myself that the worse that could happen is that I will be killed. My only fear then was for my mum, but I just told myself that “at least she has five of us, one less won’t kill her” and that was how I summoned the courage to tell my abuser “no”, I’d be lying if I say it was easy, I became an automatic target for bullying.. At a time I thought I was going to have permanent palm marks on my face because of all kinds of slaps.. Looking back, I can boldly say that, that was the most courageous thing I ever did and in down times, I draw inspiration from it

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