I remember the day papa was buried
like it was only yesterday, as the saxophonist played the tune amazing grace
and family was asked to take a last look at him, mama was the first up she
cried like never before, like he had been the greatest man she ever met, like
he never did anything to hurt her, I wondered why she was pretending up until
it was my turn to look, without warning the tears came, papa looked too
peaceful, I’d never seen him look so calm my entire life and that day in the grave
papa looked like the man i would have loved to Walk me to school, teach me my
assignment and sing to me while I slept, not the man who would beat me at every
slight provocation, the one who would come home drunk to stupor and beat me and
mama, we’ll end up sleeping under the table most times while papa had the whole
bed to himself, our little house was always messy and if mama and I decided to
arrange it papa would beat us even more he’d say it was an insult, that were
trying to say he was a dirty man, so we lived in our one bedroom mess, at
school I was performing well so I figured most people would not know what was
going on at home, on days papa belted me till I had injuries on my arms and
legs, I’d wear a longer pair of socks to cover my leg injuries and cardigans
for that of my arm, and when there were injuries on my face I’d lie that I fell down at home, I figured everybody
believed until one day in class a group of girls walked up to me and asked if I
knew “when she cries” by Britt Nicole I felt like I had just been slapped in
the face, I was hurt I was broken, the song was about a girl who was been
abused, i was about to say no but the words wouldn’t come out, to my horror
they started singing the song, to say I was horrified would be an
understatement I stood there with tears in my eyes, whatever was left of my
self esteem dropped to 0% it was like my life was over, the girls finished
singing smiled at me and walked back to their seats, the next two years I had
in that school were terrifying, I’d see them and walk another way, the
practically controlled all about me, my teachers knew too, they’ll look at me
and nod sadly, but nobody could say anything.
My performance in the common entrance examination of that year earned me
a schorlarship into one of the best and most expensive secondary schools in my
town, if I had know things would turn out that way I would not have gone, on
getting to the school I realized the school was for children of big men in the
society who had everything they needed and wanted, most of them had all their
thing custom made or imported while most of mine were just second hand
products, my provision bag was not even as big as some peoples school bags, I
felt so little and privileged, visiting day was everybody’s favorite day,
peoples parents, siblings, cousins and even some grand parents came to see
their wards in their large cars with plenty of stuff while I looked on, when my
mother came she’ll come on a bike and trek into the school, she did her best
for me but I felt more humiliated when she came. It gave people a glance of the
life I was living I felt so little, the warse was the visiting day my father
came for, he asked mt to bring out my notes book for him to see, the back cover
of on of my note book was slightly torn he took off his belt and started to hit
me, I screamed from the impact it drew the attention of other students as well
as their parent, smh I became a show for the world to see, when he was done
beating me he left the school angrily leaving me and mama alone, while he was
beating me he said something about if I was a boy, it wasn’t clear to me so I
asked mama about it. Mama told me that papa hadn’t always been like that, it
all started when I was born she had been barren for years and papa had wanted a
boy when I came, papa was angry, he stopped working and started drinking, his
reason being there was no one to inherit anything he left behind, he even used
to tell people he had no child even when I sat there next to him.
That visiting is one I’d live to
remember, after mama left a few parents started calling on me and giving me
things out of what they had brought for their children I don’t know what hurt
me the most the gifts or the fact that I felt like a beggar or the pity with
which people looked at me, up until I left that school people still talked
about the girl that was flogged by her father in front of everybody. After the
incidence one girl started to get close to me, I was grateful to have a friend
at last, I had nightmares, I saw my father in them, I couldn’t sleep well at
night so I opened up to her, she told me she could help, that she had a tablet
which could help me sleep well, if I knew what was about to happen in my life I
wouldn’t have taken the tablet but I did anyway I needed a night or two of
peace and that was the beginning…………………………………………………………………………………………………
Watch out for the concluding part of
“my addiction story”
