[5mins read]
By Adeyalo Kolawole
IG: @adeyalo
PART ONE
I wasn’t born with a spoon; talk less of having a silver
one. By logic, I was born with dark concoctions, through unbelievable stress.
My dad died trying to provide for a child he needed, but couldn’t take care of,
while my mother just had to make due with carrying her bowl down the street in
a bid to salvage peanut from the well-wishers. I turned 10 amidst turmoil and
bad weathers and piercing eyes.
It is safe to say I am very beautiful; blue eyes, long hair,
soft body and naturally red lips. I drew a lot of pity and generosity from
people who only gave because they wanted to help a fine girl. For some reason,
they were all confused that I was still in the slum with my mother.
It was a week before Christmas, when I was seven years old.
Mom somehow found a way to get me a very beautiful gown adorned with rose
prints. It was one of the four clothes I had. The other three being worn out
but not tattered. I wore it for Christmas and celebrations alone before folding
it in a neat pile into my clothes box. Over the years, I have had to unbox the
gown and wear it more frequently, even though I used it a lot, the gown never
faded colour and was always as smooth as new.
A week after my eleventh birthday, I went to “uncle” to
collect whatever he had to offer us.
My gown remained my only good cloth and it ill-fitted me.
The sides hugged my body real tight and outlined every part of my body. I
couldn’t care or bother because it was the only good cloth I was left with.
This particular uncle was in no way related to me or my mom.
He lives seven houses away from my father’s house and he always brought us
small foods and edible stuffs. As the time went by, he suggested I come to his
house to collect more food and money. Mom tried to save enough to send me to
school so I couldn’t ask her to buy me clothes.
As I got there, uncle was in his room and he called for me
to meet him there. You shouldn’t blame an eleven year old girl for being naïve and
trusting. I went to him and playfully sat down on his bed. He was very friendly
and nice to me.
He smiled and told me he loved my gown. I shined my teeth again
and his grin widened .Then he placed his hand on my left thigh and gently squeezed.
I didn’t pay attention I was focused on the movie being shown on his big TV
that stood beside the mantel piece. Realization hit me when I felt his cold
hand touch my inner thigh on my naked flesh. It was at this time that I knew
that my gown had folded up to my pelvis. I decided to jump but then again he
smiled and said he was only admiring my gown. Again I focused on the TV and
soon got lost in it. Yet again, I felt his cold hands directly on my vagina. I
had washed my only panties earlier in the day so I wasn’t wearing any. My head felt
light and fear almost tore my heart.
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