I picked my pen with mixed feelings to write this blog post. It is one story I haven’t had the guts to tell much people. I consider it quite private but for the purpose of what this blog represents, I wanna just spill it out. I trust it’s going to be an eye opener to someone out there. Many of my relatives would be knowing this part of me for the first time.
I never grew up to meet both of my parents in the same house. They were separated a few years after my birth. so, I was always shuffled between both parties; today with my mum, tomorrow with my dad. Somewhere around my 7th birthday, my dad carted away with my brother and I. We didn’t get to see my mum for about three years.
Living with my dad was a different life entirely. A part of it was quite memorable. I remember I used to have lots of wrestling matches with my dad on his bed and I was always the winner. I guess he wanted to impart the winner’s mentality into me. I grew up under the care of different househelps, both male and female. Due to my dad’s frequent and long trips, I had some of life’s most unpleasant experiences as a child.
There was a certain woman named Nana (not her real name), who my dad took us to at a time. She was to take care of my brother and I while my dad was away on a trip (from my childish calculation, my dad was away for up to two months). Nana had a restaurant, eventually we became her ’employees’, serving people, washing dishes and running errands.
(>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Fast Forward)
I was down with fever, my appetite was down. My supposed nanny woke me up in the middle of a night. she gave me some curdles and said “you will be fine, ok?” Then something strange started to happen. Nana began to take off her clothes. Soon she was totally in the nude. Then she invited me to lay on top of her saying that my illness will disappear if I do ‘it.’ I lack words to describe the kind of surge I felt flowing through my young body as I saw the nudeness of a woman old enough to be my mum.
The experience was traumatic. Writing this is like excavating a pain that has been buried. After reuniting with my mum (God rest her soul), I told her every other incidence that happened during our separation but I never had the words or guts to describe this molestation incidence. I kept it to me, myself and I until mama eventually passed on. I struggled all through my teenagehood into my young adulthood with the bitter memories. It affected my self-esteem so badly, it incubated suicidal thoughts and other inner struggles. I only got some sort of freedom from it a few years ago.
My current online campaign against sexual assault against African women and kids is engendered from this experience. God has a way of birthing a ministry from misery. I am hoping this project will help the hurting to get healing and full recovery. It might have started as a little ripple in the middle of the sea but certainly as you and I collaborate, we can transform it into a wave of great momentum. Kindly join me in this initiative. Your wife, sister, child, sibling or relative could either be a victim or the next victim if we remain indolent.
In subsequent posts, we will dwell on how to educate your kids on sexuality and some compulsory interview you need to have with your kids. We just have to be sure that someone isn’t defiling them already.
It wasn’t easy letting you into my life’s secret but we gat to be real with ourselves if we desire a visible change. Just incase you have not LIKEd our FaceBook page, kindly do so: www.facebook.com/evictrape. Also, FOLLOW on Twitter: @EvictRapeAfrica. Kindly share this post with your online contacts, your comments and reaction will be highly appreciated.
Let’s deliver the African future!
Treasure K. (The Convener, EvictRapeAfrica)