The cry that fell from my lips and filled the room was like the roar of the wind in harmattan. The only thing I could remember was that I was screaming as I ran forward, biting, pinching, kicking, punching any part of anybody that blocked my way. I was ready to die at that moment; to kill. The reason for the fear, the pain, the stress, the bad nights, the slow unraveling of my mind, the change of me into this rude, stubborn, unlovable girl, stood before me and it was either I died or he died at that moment.
When my eyes cleared, I was held down by some of my cousins. My aunty and uncles stared at me from a distance, like I had caught a communicable disease.
Princess: “where is he?” I asked. My voice was hoarse from my screaming.
The uncles stepped to the side and Uncle Moses stepped forward, looking at me curiously.
Uncle Moses: “did the madness of your mother affect you too? Please my children are here, I don’t want them contacting any damaging infection from you.” he said, adjusting his glasses.
Princess: “if my mother is mad, it is because of your poking and prodding when no one was watching. Where is the man that stood behind you just now?” I asked, struggling to free myself from the hands that held me down.
Uncle Moses: “David? You know him?” he asked, curious.
Princess: “is that what he calls himself now? Tell him that if he loves his life, he better find another city to go and live. Anywhere I see him, we will fight until one of us dies. Tell him that I have not forgotten his face and he will no longer terrorise my sleep with nightmares.” I replied hotly.
Aunty Benedicta: “what are you rambling about? What did the young man do to you? You just arrived a few hours ago…” she said, staring at me with wide eyes.
Princess: “I have told you. Tell him that I have not forgotten.” I said, ignoring her questions. I tried to get off from under the different hands that held me down but they were many and strong.
I stretched my neck about to see if the demon was still there, hiding behind my uncles, but no he was gone. “Osazee, we will die in this Lagos! This is not Benin where I am not sure if I am safe from Police arrest. You cannot come to my house and live comfortably. No! No way!” I thought within myself.
When my cousins saw that I had calmed down considerably, they let go of me and I sat up. Aunty Benedicta immediately dragged me away, muttering about ‘enough excitement to last a lifetime all because of one small twit.” I didn’t even mind her; my eyes peered into every dark space, every nook, every corner, expecting to see Osazee hiding. We soon got to the room allocated to me. As I sat down on the bed heavily, Aunt Benedicta looked at me;
Aunty Benedicta: “my offer still stands.” She said.
Princess: “even if I had a plan to leave before, I am going nowhere now that I have found that Osazee lives in this house with you people.” I replied.
Aunty Benedicta: “who is Osazee?” she asked
Princess: “the boy who had his friends gang rape me because I dared to attack his father for squeezing my buttocks. That is who your brother has moving around this house freely, calling himself David. David my foot.” I replied.
Aunty Benedicta’s mouth hung open, as she stared at me. I looked at her.
Princess: “you think I was born this way; angry and distrustful?” I asked, seeing her look of shock and pity. I climbed into the bed and closed my eyes. I was tired. As I fell into sleep, I heard the door close softly behind me. I immediately, jumped out of the bed and went to lock the door. I didn’t want to wake up to roving hands.
The next day, Aunt Benedicta came to convince me before leaving for work, to leave the house and take the key and box along; I refused again. She left angrily and I decided to see the house for myself as well as look for Osazee. I met Amaju almost at my door. He smiled on seeing me
Amaju: “hi.” He said.
Princess: “hello, can you show me around?” I asked. He nodded and I stepped beside him.
Amaju was a good guide. He showed me the different houses in the compound and who lived in them. He introduced me to the kitchen staff that served everyone. The kitchen was bigger than papa’s house in Warri. We had our breakfast there and met some of the other grandchildren. Everybody had what they felt like eating. Money is good sha.
After breakfast, he took me to where cars were parked. Men and cars? I rolled my eyes on seeing where he had brought me to. Then I stopped on seeing the man washing a car near a tap that had a hose in its mouth. I stepped forward and Amaju held my arm;
Amaju: “he was the one that asked me to bring you here. I don’t know what he did to you but he seems truly sorry. Give him a chance.” He said, then he let go of my arm.
As soon as Amaju’s hand dropped, I launched myself on Osazee, biting and scratching. I had punched him, kicked him, whipped him with the hose, broken a plastic bucket on his head when in the middle of my fury, I realised that he had not once raised his hands to defend himself. He had not even tried to stop me, he just stood there, groaning and bleeding. I stopped hitting him and stood, breathing hard and looking at him suspiciously.
Osazee: “I am sorry.” He said, with tears in his eyes. I felt tired. Revenge didn’t taste so sweet as I thought it would. If he had fought back, maybe I would have gotten some joy from plotting his injury but this submission; I couldn’t fight it.
Princess:”I told you to leave this house or else you and I will die here but you are still here. I will continue to attack you until you leave. Coward! Why don’t you fight me like a man! Why don’t you throw punches and kicks like a man! Why don’t you come and steal my virginity with your friends again?” I screamed at him, hitting his chest with my hands.
Osazee: “I am sorry.” He kept repeating the words like it had a balm of healing among its letters.
I turned away from him angry. I was angry with myself for not going through with my revenge and I was angry with him for making it difficult. I looked up to see Amaju’s troubled gaze as well as some of my other cousin’s curious eyes. A shadow shifted from the wall and I saw father’s bodyguard walking away without a word. I sighed and walked back to my room; my hands hurt now that the rage was gone out of me. No one spoke to me as I passed them.
I was almost at my room when I heard a whimper. It sounded like somebody sobbing. I traced the sound and found it coming from a half opened door down the hall. I peered into the room and found my bookish cousin, Eliza on the ground near her bed sobbing.
She was naked except for her panties around her waist. I entered the room and squatted beside her. I held her as she sobbed into my chest
Princess: “who?” I asked quietly.
Eliza moved away and stood up on shaky feet. She picked her bra from the floor and struggled to wear it back on. I stood up and grabbed her but she flinched and jerked away from me
Eliza: “not everyone is strong like you Princess. I don’t have your strength. I have learnt to do what I am told so that everything will be alright.” She said angrily.
Princess: “but you are not alright. You are hurting. Somebody has hurt you. Don’t you want to see that person punished?” I asked, surprised at her anger.
Eliza: “when you have let go of your demons and your fears, then you can come and preach to me of punishment. Why are you here? Nobody wants you here… Mother says once grandfather dies, you will be thrown into the streets. You are affecting this place; disrupting the peace. Please leave and go back to the hole you crawled out from!” she shouted.
Princess: “if this is a peaceful home, then I am waiting to see it. If you will not help yourself then stop crying and take it. I hear it gets to a point when the victim begins to enjoy it.” I replied, cruelly.
I left the room with Eliza searching for a good reply, her face white with shame and fear. I felt disgusted with myself. “Uncle Moses is definitely at his old ways.” I thought to myself as I entered my room.
Question: do you consider Osazee to be repentant? Do you think Princess can forgive him? Who do you feel is molesting Eliza in the house? So many questions; so little time.
See Episode 20 Below (You Don’t Wanna Miss This!)… Adelove Stories… Premier Naija Inspirational Blog!
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