My father left us (my mother, sister and I) when I was just 7 years old. He was an alcoholic and my mum couldn’t bear the menace anytime he came home drunk. She didn’t want us to have an experience of being raised by a drunk. One day, they had a fight, not that I could remember exactly what happened, but I knew an argument ensued that led to a pandemonium. After a while, I heard my mom say “I’m tired of you. I hate you and I wish that I wake up one morning and never to see your face again.”
Every morning before leaving for the office, my dad would come to our bedroom to kiss us good morning. He works in a law firm and sometimes we barely see him, but the good morning kiss was his way of showing that he loved. I loved my father that I could care-less if he was hurting my mom.
The next morning after the fight, I expected the morning kiss but I didn’t see him. I searched everywhere for my father, crying but there was no traces of him. When I asked Mama, she said my dad had to leave. I hated my mum for years, for sending my dad away. I cried for days, weeks and months after, I had to start getting used to living without my father.
Shortly after, at one evening, my uncle came by the house in tears. He is my mum’s junior brother. We loved playing with him, and he used to buy us gifts, took us out and even buy ice cream and burger for us. So, we enjoyed being around him. And when we heard from my mum that my uncle would start living with us, we were the happiest in the world.
Most times, my little sister followed my mum to wherever she was going, and because she thought I was a big girl (which I used to call myself. Often times, I will say “mum, don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl and uncle is here to take care of me”), she will tell my uncle to look after me when I came back from school. My uncle did his best to impress my mum, by being a babysitter, but he is the reason for who I am today- bad, ugly, depressed, unloved, abused, dejected, unhappy, frustrated and tired.
My uncle started molesting me when I was 9 years- I got back from school one afternoon and we were playing as usual, then I discovered he was touching me in an unusual manner. I was very smart of have discovered because I read news online. I told him to stop touching me and he did. I thought that was the end but no, it wasn’t. He did it over and over again and begged me not to tell my mum. But I did and my mum said it was nothing, that my uncle wouldn’t do such, that he was only playing with me.
Until he raped me, not once, not twice, but five times. In fact, on the fourth and fifth times, I had already gotten used to it, so I just allowed him do it. Again, he begged not to tell my mum but I did. My mum accused me of making up stories to kick my uncle out of the house, that whatever fight I had with him should not put him on the street. So, one evening after school, I got angry and I refused to go home.
My classmates told me he was working part -time at a bar and he begged his boss to hire me. At 12, I started working at the bar and I slept with different kinds of men just to make an extra cash for a room. I clinched with those men to pass the night at their hotels or apartments till I could get myself one.
My mum came to my school to look for me, even reported me to my class teacher but I threatened to call the police, which meant that she could lose custody of me and my little sister. So, she stopped coming to school and kept looking out for where I lived.
I continue with this lifestyle till I was 20 years old. I got into a business school, and I could work at the same time. So, I was earning well enough but I had a problem: manipulating men and sex (I had sex like drinking water). So, I saw the need to find a therapist. A friend then recommended someone to me and I was consistent.
I intend to shut my eyes out making advances to my therapist, but I couldn’t control my feelings, I have gotten used to my lifestyle that letting go has become so difficult. Yes, I seduced my therapist, and he tried to resist, but I am irresistible.
We did a lot together- had sex, enjoyed each other’s company and I didn’t want to be next to anyone but him. So, we fell in love, but I didn’t know I stick to him because I needed love and one person that could give me sex as many times as I want it.
Shortly after, we got married and it was beautiful. All I wanted was sex; mornings and nights especially, sometimes I raped him, in fact, I drug him so I could have my way if he doesn’t want me to. It’s 6 months after our wedding and he is about to file a divorce saying he is tired and that I’m a sex maniac who can never change.
I cry everyday, because I wished I never have to go back to the street, paying boys to get laid, or having to get laid by men who are older than my father. I am 26 years old and I blame everyone for my predicament – I can’t forgive them or myself. My father, mother and my uncle, they are to be blamed and I hate myself for keeping quiet.
As I am typing this, I hope that my husband doesn’t divorce me. Not that I love him, which he found out himself, but because I feel safe around him and he makes me happy, even when I force myself on him. I wished I could reciprocate his love and make him happy too, but I hate men, I only love their penis.
This is my story, the shadow of who I am on the inside and the ugly me that I don’t care if it goes public. I just want to tell my story. If you still have the chance to save yourself, please do. I am not giving up on me, but I wished there was something I could do.