…the following night my mother had to go work. He came into my room again. Laid on the bed and asked me if I remembered what he had said last night. I said yes, I did. I didn’t understand the next question, he asked me if I wanted to make him happy…pause. How was a child supposed to make him happy? Should I sing a song? Should I stop looking for trouble? I still didn’t know how but I said yes anyway. He asked again, are you sure you want to make me happy? Yes I said. He leaned in and kissed me. I mean on the lips. Not on the forehead or cheek like he had always done. On the lips.
He stopped to look at me, I simply stared back. He told me not to scream or say anything. I nodded. He fondled my chest as I barely had any breasts at that time. I laid as still as a corpse as my body, my little body was gradually abused. He just touched me that night because I still had my period, nothing major happened or at least that was what I thought. I didn’t ever imagine the sort of emotional trauma it would have on me. Blood stopped coming out of me, I dreaded what that meant for me. We went to stay with my mother’s sister for a week. In the past, I used to love coming here. They were still happy here, it was infectious. Now, it was a safe haven for me, away from the monster that had become of my father. I grew very morose. At the end of the week, we went back home. When I greeted my father he a look in his eyes that said, “I’ve been waiting for you”. I trembled. The next day, my mother was on night duty at the hospital. I knew what was going to happen, he was going to come and repeat what he had done the first time. I braced myself, it started with a kiss, he took off my night gown. Then my panties. This was when I knew that this was worse than what happened the first time. I felt something go in. ouch, I cringed. There was a hole under me and he seemed to have slid a finger inside. Pain seared through me, I couldn’t scream. Tears streamed down my eyes. He kept at it, jabbing his fingers into me, again and again and again. Then, it was time for the grand finale, he had a rod on his body, whether it was attached to him or he was holding it, I couldn’t exactly tell. The rod went in, just like his fingers had done. The pain, I cannot forget till this day. It was as though someone was pouring ground pepper on an open wound. It stung. It was very rough. The movement gave me a headache. Up down up down up down. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any more, it stopped. He got up from the bed and left my room.
The next day, I woke up and my body felt like a 100 cows had stampeded over me. I felt so sore. I felt as though my limbs had been disjointed. I used all the power I could summon to get up. Walking was hell. What had my father done to me? Was this normal? Was there really no one I could tell my ordeal? I cried a lot. Not because of what he had done to me, but because of the thoughts they brought to my mind. You see, the pain was more than I could bear. I thought of leaving home, running away. Leaving this sad life behind me and starting again, if I even could. Could I leave my mother at the mercy of this man? If I did run away, would I ever see my brothers again? Little Tolu. Would I ever see him again? How would my running away affect them? They most likely would never remain the same. Who was thinking about me? Why did I have to be the one to think about everyone else? Nobody knew what I was going through. There was nobody to talk to about it. It was driving me mad. When I saw my mother’s face later that afternoon, it brought tears to my eyes. I had made my mind up. I was leaving. She asked what was wrong, but I couldn’t say it, I didn’t want to cause her more pain. How could I tell her what her husband had done to me? I just couldn’t. I could only cry. She soon started crying with me, as if she understood. I guess she must have. I really wanted to know her thoughts as she cried. I matured in tears. I had to do it soon, or I would lose the nerve. I decided to do it tomorrow. It was set.