Carthasis

It's no co-incidence that I achieved clarity on the last day of 2011.
Like the song says 'suddenly I see'.
I was 14 or thereabouts. Wé had only been in Bénin for a year. I dont
remember how wé as à family were introduced to him but whatever the
case he got so close to the family that hé could ask that we, the
kids, come and spend holidays with him. And of course the request was
very well received; hé was an elderly person, my grandmother's brother
and à catholic priest.
There was little hésitation on his part. According to the sleeping
arrangements wé would all be on the same béd, hé inbetween, flanked on
one side by me and by my two younger brothers on the other. When much
later in the night hé turned towards me, lifted his leg and placed it
on me I thought- no hoped- it was à mistake. I froze. I could feel his
erect pénis- though I didn't know anything about an érection then- and
the weight on both my thighs.
In my 'frozen' state I must have fallen asleep because I recall
feeling him attempting to insert his penis between my legs. I remember
freezing again and holding my legs tight together so hé could not get
in. I felt that if I stayed really still and stiff hé would believe I
was asleep. Not that I felt the would let me be if I was asleep but in
some way I hoped it would make him realise that any movement from my
body was not à sign of complicity in the act. Hé struggled, albeit
silently so as not to wake up my brothers, with ineffective thrusts
until in my fear and shock I obliged him by relaxing my legs à bit so
the pénis slipped between my laps, believing hé would not know there
was no pénétration. He emitted a satisfied 'mm-hmm' and having worked
himself into à frenzy ejaculated shortly after. I felt the wetness in
between my legs. Hé was 52.
I cant quite remember if hé said 'thank you' - à phrase hé would usé
often enough later on- or if hé stood up to wash himself, or whatever.
All I remember was waiting for the morning to come.
Hé never behaved like anything happened the next day, and when hé
brought us home, I acted the same. But it was à heavy burden for me to
carry so I wrote it down at the back of my diary, and cancelled it
out, but referred to it in the entry for that date. I tried to speak
to my cousin, à university undergraduate, about it. I showed her my
diary and she guesséd that the code BOB stood for back of book. She
checked the back and saw the scratched out sentence 'Fr --- M L to
me'. She asked what ML meant and guessed it by herself and just shook
her head and dropped the diary. I ran after her pretending to laugh,
telling her it wasnt what she had guessed. I was frightened and
ashamed, afraid that they would say I caused it somehow. And she was
from à staunch Catholic family.
one I résisted him the best way I could by being as rude as was
culturally possible in that situation and generally showing my
displeasure. Especially when hé caught me alone and would ask 'how are
you sexually'. Hé retaliated by making my stay terribly uncomfortable.
Hé would pût me down in front of guests, give me à load of chores to
do and make sexist, chauvnistic remarks about how I did them, make me
go on without food and pretend not to notice. So many things. And in
equal measure hé would lavish me with pampering gestures and items in
à bid to win me over.
When the actual sexual acts occured, hé made it physically,
emotionally and psychologically convenient for himself. Again hé came
to pick us up for holidays but this time hé dropped us off back home
in installments- I was the last.
While wé were all together, hé would sometimes waylay me in the dark
with more suggestive questions and -I believe- actions. I remember it
made me very uncomfortable. I also remember not given an answer that
hé liked to the 'how are you sexually question', prompting him to ask
me 2 more times in different situations. I also recall in my
Anger/fear/disgust(?) the last time I shouted a loud 'fine!' hé was
embarrassed and tried to cover up with laughter and à retort, 'i know
you will always be fine'. I also recall that à little punishment came
the next morning.
Another question hé would ask me was ' are you à virgin'. I always
said 'i dont know'.

(to be continued)

From this day forward, I promise to do my utmost to nuture, honour and
respect my body and myself. I will no longer deride my looks but
instead encourage myself to be the way I want to be. I will engage in
physical and nutritional discipline that will be the precpitator of
that change. I will desist from eating things which are harmful to my
health or which add no value to my nutritional goals.
Most of all I will draw strength from my heavenly Father through whom
I can do all things.
So help me God
'chili!'

--

This Christmas

I've never approached Christmas the way I am now. With fear; even,
dread, à little joy, and sadness. The reason is obvious, it's supposed
to be a time to celebrate but if I counted my blessings, I cant
celebrate:). Literally.
It's been one of the worst years ever and I dread à new one.
Yes, I know, 'thank God for life'. It's in the living that the problèm
lies. But the great thing about the human spirit is its ability/desire
to keep on. Regardless.

I remember

Some painful things you just block away subconsciously because your mind finds it hard to deal with. But sometimes they come flooding back.

I remember when I went for the first scan for my pregnancy, I was maybe 10 or so weeks pregnant. The scan saw a gestational sac, that is the bag of water where the baby stays in the womb, but could not detect any heartbeat. The conclusion was that I had a blighted ovum. (This happens when fertilisation of the sperm and ovum actually occurs but the result does not form properly. A kind of false conception.) I was partly sad and partly relieved. I wondered if I could not have a child, and if I did anything to cause this one from developing properly. Anyway, I was sent away and asked to come for another scan in about two weeks or so (I can’t quite remember now). As God would have it, a few days later, I began bleeding. I rushed to the doctor and was sent for another scan and there they saw a healthy, happy overactive embryo, happily swimming away. That day was the first in a series of close calls in relation to my pregnancy but God saw the lil un safely through.

Another thing I remember was the delivery itself. Like I said in earlier posts, it was a 12 hour labour. And looking back now I remember the pain I was in- terrible pain, especially in the last few hours. I had several medical personnel around me but my mum who waited outside all through was not allowed in. I remember begging the doctor to hold my hand at some point, begging for some kind words... they were mostly just screaming at me. When the baby came out, her head tore my vagina quite a bit, and as if that was not enough, the placenta was stuck. They had to manually evacuate it and in English that meant putting their hand into my very sore and bleeding vagina, down to my even sorer womb and sweep through. Only a woman that has given birth will understand the pain. I screamed ! They had to give me anaesthesia to put me to sleep. I woke up to find them trying to stitch my torn vagina-without anaesthetics. Again that was hell and I couldn’t stand it. As a matter of fact I woke up to the pain of stitching and the doctor was saying ‘stay still’, stay still’. Apparently in my grogginess I had been speaking a lot and that was also irritating him because he told me to ‘shuttup’ as well. Things came to a head when he slapped me twice really hard on my thighs when I shifted them in pain. He complained that he was spending so much time with one patient when he should have been done with several. I remember begging them to give me local anaesthesia - injections on the site to deaden the site- that I would pay. But what did I expect? I was in a public hospital afterall. The pain was terrible, even for about 2 months afterwards. And to think that this baby had/has a father.

(But when I look at my lovely, happy daughter, it’s all worth it. No one can ask for a better child- honestly. And NO, I wont beat her when she is rude to me because of what I went through when I gave birth to her. Having her was not her decision- it was purely mine. She didn’t ask to be born and I refuse to raise her with that burden of misplaced guilt hanging over her head. She needs to be polite because it is the right thing to do.)

Finally, I remember the people that stood by me through this trying time, 2 friends I barely even knew, my mother and my brother. I remember tonight that I have to be grateful to them. I had no-one else.

Cats, dogs and reptiles

Hey Folks,

I had a pretty awful day yesterday and I still feel bad about it.
So out of the blues a generous friend of mine sent me 10K. I was
ecstatic because it meant that I could afford milk and nappies for my
baby especially as she was close to running out. I spent 2k on some
essentials and planned to go to the market the next day to get my
baby's supplies.
Now, lately I would rather not drive to the market on Mission road,
here in Benin; parking is torture and backing out is even worse. You
have to contend with human and vehicular traffic!Anyway, that day,
because my mum sent me on some errands close to the market, I thought
it would make sensé to save the 'okada' fare I would have spent the
next day, if I just went to the market from there.
As I drove in I noticed that the low barricades on both sides of the
road had been broken, making it impossible for cars to drive in and
park, with their bumpers close to the stalls and their backs to the
streets, as was the usual practice. But there were à lot of cars
parked along the street, which I assumed was à result of the
démolition.
Anyway, after driving up the street looking for space unsuccessfully,
I drove back down in a bid to leave, but changed my mind when I saw à
car pull out. I waited for it to leave and parked there.I had barely
stepped out of the car when I saw à man in uniform standing by the
driver's sidé. I walked up to him and then noticed that à towing van
had actually pulled up to my bumper and the men were getting ready to
hook up my car! When I asked the uniformed man what was going on hé
said no one was allowed to park there. I was shocked cos there were no
signs to indicate that plus there were LOTS of cars parked there. I
mean I even waited for one to pull out and the speed at which they
arrived there meant they obviously saw that!
Anyway, to cut à long story short, the uniformed man, seeméd to change
his mind, due to the pleas from me and the nappy seller, who latér
joined me. Hé said hé would just tow the car à short distance and let
me go. The trader got into the car with me and we left. Unfortunately,
hé lied.
To cut à short story shorter, the car was towed to their office quite
à distance away - to Sapele road for those who know Bénin- and just as
we arrived there I was slammed with à 13000 naira fine. When this
happened, I wept. Not because of the fine or the towing but because
the precious money which would have solved my baby's pressing need was
gone for nothing. After à lot of verbal manipulation and liés from
them they said they could only reduce the amount to 7000. My mum
already asked for 1000 from the money so I literally was left with
nothing.
Thinking about it now, I'm just so unhappy. We are down to just 2
nappies and the last tin of milk and I cant tell how another will
come. I am so upset with myself for going to the market that day, I
imagine how I could have prevented this from happening, and finally, I
wonder when it will all end.

--

Cats, dogs and reptiles

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