In 2014 I was working in a spa. I was a masseuse. Call me a massage therapist and you wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a short course I did after school and surprisingly it’s that certificate that earned me a job. It was a very beautiful place I was working. My colleagues were beautiful and my boss was a very calm human who always looked out for our welfare. Immediately you enter the building, you’re welcome by a fragrance that softens your resistance and makes you feel welcome. It’s that fragrance I always think of when I was going to work each morning. I loved it. I even had it in my house but for some strange reasons, it didn’t smell the same way as it did at the spa. It was more intense at the spa than at my place. 

I will get to the office, change into my working gear. Stand in front of my room and wait for a call that would tell me to get the room ready for a client. The rooms are on the top floor while the reception was on the ground floor. A client would walk in and interact with the front desk.  If my room is empty, the front desk would give me a call and ask me to prepare the room for a client. There’s one thing I’ve left out. It’s very important so let me talk about it.

Before work starts each morning, the girls would gather on the ground floor. Six of us. Our madam would lead us in prayers and after prayers give us a little exhortation. She would usually say, “Men you work on would easily fall in love with you. You touch them the way nobody has touched them. Your fingers are magic. Your work is divine so it’s easy for them to fall in love with you and force you to give them your number. But remember this, you’re not the one they fall in love with. They fall in love with your work and the kind of fragrance you bring into their lives. Know the difference and save yourself the heartbreaks. Because of this, it’s illegal to give your numbers to clients. It’s against company policy to accept their numbers.”

That advice never left me. Each time a man softens under my fingers, I tell myself, “He’s in love with my work and not with me.” In a day, I could get three to five proposals from men who have everything and from men who promise to give everything. But in my mind, it’s my job they were in love with and not me as a person. I don’t fall for their tricks. I didn’t give a number and I didn’t take a number. One afternoon, a call came through from the reception. She said, “Get the room ready. He would be up there in the next five minutes.”

Minutes later, this tall man walked up to my door. I met him at the door. I said, “This way…” He followed and entered the room. He had his eyes fixed on me. Each time I tried to look at him in the eyes, he would already be looking into my eyes. He said, “This was recommended to me by a physiotherapist. I had an accident that affected my back. I’ve gone through physio and this is the next step. I don’t know what you’ll need this information for but I hope it helps you to know the kind of massage I need.” I nodded my head and said, “You don’t have to worry. I’ve already been briefed.”

I got him ready and started working on him. It was an hour massage but ten minutes later, he was dozing off. That wasn’t unexpected. A lot of people sleep while being worked on. It could be the fragrance. It could be the music. It could be the work of the fingers. Immediately the clock hit the hour mark, I said, “You can get up now. I’m done.” He took his time to get up. When he finally dressed up and came to meet me at the entrance he said, “Asantewaa, you really know your work. Thank you so much. Can we be friends? Can I have your contact? I would definitely come again.” It was easier for him to know my name because it was boldly written on my tag. I said courteously, “Anytime you come around, you’ll meet me here.” He said, “Your number please?” I answered, “It’s not allowed for us to give our contact to clients. Look around.” He said, “Just write it down for me and no one will see it.” I didn’t. He insisted. I stood my ground.

He stayed there for a while trying to bully me to give the number to him. I didn’t. He left. After work that day, I was talking to my colleague about the encounter. She asked, “The man who was in white long sleeves?” I said, “Yeah, the tall guy.” She said, “But he came here with a woman? The lady was at the reception waiting for him and he was up there fighting for your number?” We laughed. We both concluded, “They are not in love with us. They are in love with our work.” 

A week or so later, my colleague called from work. I was off that day. She said, “Your man came here today. He asked of you. When we told him you didn’t come to work today, he left. He said he would come back when you come.” True to his words, he came back three days later when I was there. He was sent to my chamber and immediately he saw me he said, “Today, kindly be a good girl and give me your contact. We are here. Nobody will see.” I did my job. This time around he didn’t sleep. He was awake through it all, asking me to give him my contact or even agree to meet him somewhere else in town. After the massage, he left money on the table and said, “Your tip. For a great work done.” I picked the money and his contact was written on a paper and attached to the money.”

I took the money, folded the paper his number was on, and threw it in the basin. I never called and he never came around again. 

But things changed where I was working. I was put on the field. We had rich clients who felt too big to come to the spa. They rather called and booked a home session. It was expensive but these clients didn’t care about money. My first time on the field, I nearly got raped. The man was thick and tall and had all the advantages. When it got messier, I told him, “It’s not a good day. I’m on red. Can we do it tomorrow? I’ll give you my number. Just call me when you’re free.” He didn’t believe me. He wanted to see it. I told him I wasn’t comfortable showing him things of that nature. He grudgingly accepted and left me alone. 

It happened twice in a week with a different client. I pleaded with our madam to take me off the field. She didn’t so I resigned. 

My senior sister had a decoration business she was doing. I joined hands with her. It was safer. She had links with businesses that called for her services. She worked with individuals too. Weddings. Product launch. Bachelor’s party. Anything that needed decoration, we were there to do it. One day, we were in an office fixing blinders when I felt a tap on my back. A voice followed, “Asantewaa.” When I turned back, it was that man. The tall man who needed my number desperately. The man who wrote his number and put it in money. He asked, “Do you remember me?” I pretended I didn’t. It had already been two years or so. He said, “The spar. I put my number in a tip, you never called.” I feigned surprise, “Oh wow. It’s a small world indeed.” 

He asked what I was doing in his office and I told him. He said, “I went to the spar once and they told me you had left. I didn’t believe them so I went there again a week later. You were not there. I thought I will never see you again. Is that what you do now?” 

I gave him my number but I avoided his calls. It was my sister who told me, “There are genuine people around. You may not know them until you give them a chance. At least, listen to him. Know what he wants. If you can’t give him what he wants, it’s alright to turn him down respectfully. It’s better than trying to avoid him completely.” 

So I picked up his call one day and he asked me, “What do I have to do to get your attention?” 

We met after work one day and I asked him, “What do you really want from me? I’m interested. Let me know so we don’t waste each other’s time.” He answered, “I need you to be someone I can call and meet when the times are right. Call it friendship. Call it acquaintance. Feel free to give it any name you want but the most important thing is to pick up my calls when they come through. When you’re free, see me. That’s all I want from you.” I asked him; “How much of this is because of the massage?” He laughed. He answered, “I’ve grown out of it. You’re not a container of massage, right? There’s more and that’s what I want to see.”

We met another day and I asked about the girl he came to the spa with the first time. “She’s a colleague at work. The accident was job-related so it was her who brought me to your place.” He answered

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Weeks later, I told my sister, “I gave him a chance and he proposed. What do I do now?” She said, “If you like him your conscience will know. It won’t be quiet. If you don’t like him, your body will know. It won’t be comfortable in his presence. Don’t lie to yourself. Go for it or don’t, depending on how you feel about him.” 

I picked up my phone and called him; “Yes. Yes to being your girlfriend but promise me you won’t rush things. There’s so much to know and learn. Let’s give each other that opportunity to learn and to know.” When he asked how long it will take me to learn and to know, I answered, “I don’t really know” 

We dated for a year and I still didn’t know how long I needed to know and learn everything. The following year, I was in a white gown saying “I do” to him. 

Did I say “I do” because I felt I knew everything there’s to know about him? 

No. 

I said I do because I realized I would need a lifetime and more to be able to know everything about a man. We got married so we can give each other a chance to grow next to each other while learning all there’s to learn. 

Is that my happy ending? 

I don’t know. It’s too early to judge. We are only three years together but if coming events cast their shadow, then I can safely say I’m in for a good ride. Because this shadow I see is a shade that protects me from the scorching sun and keeps me rested when I’m tired of the world. 

—Asantewa

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