THE DYSFUNCTIONALS

Serie 3

My Story

Let me tell you a story, my story of my first sexual experience. No wait! Let me deviate a little. Don't whine, I'll get to the story. I was 6 years old and my father had just died leaving my mother to cater for 6 children alone. Oh! I remember how she used to cry her eyes out back then; but now she's over that phase. I mean, who wouldn't after 17 years.

My Uncle had come from Lagos to pick me up. He said I'll be living with his family in Lagos and that he'll be my new father. In my little mind, I wasn't really sure if I liked the idea. I was thinking how I would cope without my family, who will be my mum since I was going to have a new dad; so many thoughts ran through that day but in the end, I had no choice. I had to go with him or nothing.

My mother packed my bags and two days later, we left Onitsha for Lagos. Oh! Things were really different in Lagos. My Uncle and his family was living a lifestyle of luxury. Everyday I thought about my family mostly because I felt it was wrong for me to be exposed to so much when they had little or nothing. I felt like I was betraying my own, my very own people.

Living with my Uncle was grand. I got to eat well, sleep on a good bed, take good snacks to school, go to a school where fighting wasn't cool and watch tv. In my little mind, my life was forming.

Two years of living with my Uncle got me settled in. I began to relate with my present status as fate. Unknown to me, half bread is truly better than none. My half bread eating family who understood love was far better than this no love plenty bread place. Here, we had everything except LOVE. This lack of love has shaped my life negatively because till date, I still find myself searching desperately for love in all places (good, bad, wherever) and most times I end up with nothing.

Living with my uncle was luxury but what is the essence of luxury that you can't enjoy. 

In my uncle's house, all the children slept in a room. My uncle had two sons who slept on the main bed while I slept on the foam on the mat (way better and softer than the mat I slept on in Onitsha). We slept by 8:30pm everyday and TV was turned off (we had a television in the room while back in Onitsha we had only one television).

While sleeping one night, I felt someone touch my thighs. I dismissed it as a dream probably because I didn't expect that anyone would touch me or because I loved my sleep better. I mean, that was my only rest time and I had to make good use of it. Two days later, this same thing happened but in a slightly different way. The toucher shifted my night dress up and was stroking my body. I couldn't dismiss this as just anything this so I woke up to find my cousin (I was only 8 and my cousin, a year younger than I).

I didn't understand what was happening so I asked him what he was doing. He goes on to say he was searching for something. I went blank because I didn't know what he would be looking for on my body. I asked him what it was he was looking for and he said nothing. He then went back to the bed. The next morning, I told my aunt before going to school what had happened at night and she calls me a liar and goes on to say she would tell my uncle to send me back to Onitsha if she hears anything like this again (I couldn't imagine going back to Onitsha. Worse off was what my mother will be told and she would believe).

That night my cousin was up for his search again. This time, I threatened to report him if he touches me again when I sleep. His response shocked me. He asked "to who" and then said or you want me to touch you when you're awake. I then said I was serious and I meant it. I couldn't tell my aunt and I didn't have access to my uncle. So I kept my challenge to myself. It continued like this for days. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months till the day my cousin found what he was looking for.

The 7 year old molested me sexually with his fingers and left me crying all night. I cried till I could shed tears no more, then like the biblical David, dusted myself up and went to my aunt's room. I knocked till she woke up. She asked what was wrong and why I was in her room at that time. I began explaining while stuttering because I was afraid of what would happen next. My aunt pulled me into the room, closed the door and flogged me. After the serious beating, she warned never to say a thing like that again and if I ever did, she'll deal with me and then take me back to Onitsha. I cried that night and had no one to console me.

This unwholesome experience continued for years. I don't know why he stopped, maybe he grew up and realized it was a terrible thing to do or he found a new prey. All I know is today, my cousin no longer creeps in my bed to touch me but the wounds he inflicted on me hasn't healed and I do not know when or if they would ever heal.

-The PenAddict.