He grabbed me by the hand whilst I was half asleep and carried me. In that instance I was unaware of my surroundings. My eyes were drowsy, the passage in the living room was dark, the lights were off. In that hour, I assumed it was the usual; the usual care and concern to lay me down to bed since I was fond of dozing off on the couch after dinner every night.
Oftentimes I have felt this peculiar touch of a muscular hand around my tender skin every 10:00pm guiding me to the path that led to my room. One day, I later took cognizance of this care after discovering myself on my bed at half past 11' in a drowsy attempt to grok why my sleeping position always changed when I awake in the morning. I notice it was my uncle who intervened every night to make sure I was properly laid to rest on my comfy bed.
These hands that fed me, clothed me, sheltered me, cared for me, loved me, pampered me, fathered me, comforted me, laid me to bed and soaked in matrimonial vows later became the hands that stole from me the only possession of purity and dignity that couldn't be recovered or restituted.
I saw the signs earlier. The second sign came as a dream. I ignored it. I was naive. I didn't understand why I was feeling so uncomfortable in my own skin and I couldn't decipher the puberty signals crawling out of me. I reasoned maybe the odd feeling and signs colliding with me was emanating from the emotions of missing my aunt who was away on a long business trip. Sadly, I didn't know they were warnings.
I saw three signs. The first came from the scripture of the Holy Books, It said "beware of evil men….." — The second came as a dream, in this dream, I saw a chicken protecting it's chick from a predator, a vicious snake, the hen verbally said to it's chick after securing their protection; "beware of evil men…." — and the last was on TV, as every 5:00pm I was always seated on the leather surface of the sofa in the living room to watch my favorite cartoon where the same words "beware of evil men……" was uttered by an animated character. The sequence of warning was strange but since I knew no form of evil from my infant age, It made me less concerned. I paid no attention.
“Bethel, my baby girl, I have a precious gift I want to show to you, common, open your eyes” He said.
“Daddy, ca… it wai…? can you sho.. me tomorro….?” I replied unconsciously.
Since he was caring, calling him uncle felt disrespectful to my being, daddy felt okay on my lips, all thanks to our close bond.
“No, you need to see it now, I bought you that expensive dress you always yearned for, the one Dura wears when you watch her cartoon on TV” He said.
That was the bait, he lured me out of my sleepy state, he knew the antenna of my awake-ness would erect once I heard the word "dura dress", he knew my weakness therefore he exploited it. I shook myself up and the slumber that overshadowed me cleared away. I was now in full control of myself and could speak, never to forget.
“Really? Daddy… Dadd… Dad….. Show me, I want to see it”* I replied, stammering in excitement.
He quickly went to switch on the lights to illuminate my room for better vision and hurriedly returned to sit beside me. I could read his face, all I saw was gladness and a swollen cheek soaked in smiles to surprise me. But I was blind. It was a veil to cloak his evil intentions.
“Look to the left, the dress is at the far corner of your bed, wrapped and well packaged” He said.
“I want to open it…. …to open ittt…. I want to try out my beautiful dress right now” I replied.
“Before you do, allow me to undress you, so that you can check out the dress, I'm sure you will look beautiful in it” He said.
I was happy, he knew my innocence. I gave him my consent to undress me but I didn't know he was going to steal the rarest and sacred treasure seated in my purity, dignity, virtue, morality and slow-approaching womanhood. This treasure when stolen, can't be returned. He did the worse. In that moment of impressing and showing me care, he raped me. And there I was, on this bed of defilement, trying to comprehend this despicable act in shock and loss of words.
All images used in this post are from Pixabay
