I was a chubby baby. Bouncy cheeks and all. Those who know me know nothing much has changed. It’s sad the way 15years later the pain in my heart is still so much. No guys, I’m not crying as I write but my heart definitely is. My heart is crying for all those 5 year olds who are going through whatever it is I went through but they can’t talk about it. Those kids who will grow up with such bitterness towards the world that should otherwise be a safe place for them.

Unlike other female babies, my abuser was not a man.

There were instances where my brother tried to touch me and my neighbour Alex who was like 3-times my age tried to wink at me and run after me but that was just as far as it went with them.

My abuser was my sister.

It’s funny how right now we are the best of friends. We talk and hug like nothing happened. But every time I see her those nights come back. Those tormented nights creep in my mind like the monster in horror movies. Sometimes it actually gives me sleepless nights.

It’s funny how everyone thinks the savior of a female kid should be their sister, cousin, aunt. You might ask me who the saviour should be. I don’t know. I’m as clue less as you are.

You might be curious as to why I decide to say this 15 years later. Maybe because it’s hard to live in the prison of your mind and heart. Or maybe because I think parents should never trust anyone with their kids. Not even their siblings. 15 years ago I was 5, chubby and beautiful. My sisters are way older than I am. The one in question is 11 years older. So by then she was in form 2 away in a boarding school. Came home and kumbe she had started engaging in lesbian activities. I also didn’t know that until recently.

When your siblings come from school, it’s natural to be excited. To want to spend every minute with them. And I was a natural baby. Anyway, long story short. Night came and I slept on the same bed as her. So day one she tried to put her hands in my panties and I thought it was just turning in her sleep. I was stupid I know. But no one ever told me girls could also do such. The next day, her then boyfriend joined us. He came to the window and they’d touch. I don’t know how. But somehow as she got pleasured she started touching me and rubbing me inappropriately. The cycle went on for days then it came to a stop. Never spoke about it to date.

Didn’t know it was abuse till I got to highschool and those conversations were not forbidden.

And now sitting here watching rape cases grow in number on a daily basis, I can’t help but ask myself. How many girls go through the same under their sisters, aunts, house helps, cousins and don’t talk about it? How many parents are ignorant of what happens to their “boring babies” while they are away thinking, “I have no man in the house,the baby must be fine”? How many girls my age have a messed up present because their past was pathetic?

Oh btw, my mama knew my sister was lesbian but she still allowed me to sleep in the same bed as her. Sad right?

The post MY SISTER, MY ABUSER appeared first on .

Two years of marriage, no baby. Said we were living our best lives first before we brought babies into the picture.

It was our 2nd anniversary. 23rd March 1998. Unlike other couples in our time, Kat and I loved life. We were the lives of the party.

Life with Kat had been beautiful. She helped me grow. Was there every day of the week. Weekdays she’d wait up late for me, and weekends we’d party till late too. Sunday we went for mass together hand in hand. My boys were envious of me you know?

Seeing that she was a perfect wife, I wanted a perfect gift for her too. She loved to tell me,” Baby, love me like you won’t love me tomorrow. That’s perfect for me. But remember, we party like we gon die tomorrow. I need no regrets.” A party would be perfect.

So a month before our anniversary, the plans kicked off. Made reservations, invited friends, ordered drinks. It was going to be beautiful.

Days went by and the day came. Just like in the movies, I pretended I’d forgotten. Oh you think she was just cool that day? No boo. You thought wrong. That whole day she was in her feelings. Shouting, ranting etc. I think I should win the oscars for the don’t care act I pulled that day.

Convincing her to get out of the house that night was a whole task all together. But eventually, she dressed sexy for me and off we went. It was our habit to sample new clubs in town so she couldn’t quite guess our next destination. Call me master planner.

She loved the surprise. Kat wasn’t the emotional type. So don’t start picturing tears and tissue. All I got was a kiss and, “Thanks babe. Thought you forgot.” Touched my ego a little there but I’m definitely not complaining.

Partied wild all night and time came for us to go home. Drunk and silly me insisted on driving us home. 5minutes on the road and boom!
That’s all I remember guys. Dunno how long it will take me to get over her but one thing I’ll remember to do once I get off this chair is to BE THE LIFE OF THE PARTY

The post BE THE LIFE OF THE PARTY appeared first on .

“Papa! Well, maybe I should call you father because that is what you have been. I was told that being a father is not as hard as being a daddy and it’s clear that you took the easy way out.
I’m sorry that came out wrong but it’s what I feel right now.
Oh I hate to write like this cause I’m so used to emojis and there’s no way I can fix them here to release the tension I feel.

I don’t know if you read my first letter to you and understood it. I know it’s been such a long time to bring it up. Twenty years is a lot but I need to know father,did you? Did you read the joy that I came with?
Oh you don’t understand?
My first letter was written to you on that first day when I came to this world.
And I have a feeling you understood me just a little while. When you were my dad.
When every evening you held me in your laps beer in your hand and your feet danced to the music of your whistling.
Those were the only days when you really were a dad.
Years passed and the older I grew the further you pushed me. Gave me to my mother when you knew quite well that I was a daddy’s girl. Mama and I never quite got along. But you gave me to her anyway.

Oh Pa’, you don’t know how many nights I cried to God to bring back our good times. Instead,you became colder. Maybe the army hardened your but do you remain so cold even outside the battle field? Do you remain cold even to your children? Your last daughter? I’m sorry if I sound bitter. I’m not. I’m just sad you let life slip away.
And all those years I was left wondering what it was that changed things between us.
Why we couldn’t have a relationship like the ones girls my age have with their daddies.

Oh Pa’, my ink is almost out but I wish you’d understand this second letter of mine to you.
I wish you’d understand that I have noticed you are trying to get close. To make up for the years lost.
But more importantly I wish you find out that despite everything, I’m excited to give you a chance maybe we could go watch movies next week?
Well,now I expect a letter from you.
Should I be excited or scared?
Will you say yes or are you scared you’ll mess it up?
I’ll be waiting.
Love
Claire”.

The post PAPA appeared first on .