OBIM – Short story by Ajoke Ilori

Hi guys, here is the first entry in GuestCrib titled “OBIM”.
It’s written by Ilori Ajoke. S.
You can find her on Twitter @ajokesogo and check out her blog ajokesogo.wordpress.com

**************

OBIM

I’d been defiled many times by this person. Had to keep it to myself for fear of death. Mama would never even believe me and Papa is never around to listen.

My name is Obim and this is my story.

I am thirteen years old, the first child of my parents with three siblings all boys aged eleven, nine and six respectively. I’m in grade 2 in the Community Secondary Schooli attend. We hail from and live in Ogidi, Idemili North LGA of Anambra State. Papa is a farmer and Mama runs a local canteen.

My Tormentor

His is a regular face: dark, scary, intimidating and hateful face I see anytime I close my eyes to sleep. He goes around like a saint during the day, all smiles to the aged, the ‘dream-man’ of the village maidens, the able and congenial mate to the young men and finally ‘uncle-do-good’ to the little children, always bearing gifts of sweets and biscuits. But at night, he’s the horrible monster that I dread in the confines of my room.

Like every other girl in my peer group, I used to dream of a beautiful future; the day I’d finish from Secondary school, go to the University in the city (Nnamdi Azikiwe University, Awka), graduate, get a good job and marry the man of my dreams (or the other way round; not go to the University, learn a trade like sewing, still get married, have kids and take care of my parents and siblings with my earnings).

All these dreams came to an abrupt end that night….. Mama and Papa had left for the neighbouring village in preparation for the forthcoming festival and were not due back till the next day. I was about to sleep in my little room (carved out from the kitchen because I was the only girl and i needed some privacy) when I heard the creak of the door. It was Uncle Ejiofor, papa’s younger brother, a man I’d known and liked all my life. I wasn’t surprised to see him in my room at that time of the night because he lived with us. He came nearer, put his arms around me and started kissing me all over the face. I stood frozen not knowing what was happening or what to do. I tried to resist but he forcefully threw me on the hard burnt-mud bed I slept on. I tried screaming but he had a sharp, glistening knife which he threatened to slit my throat with if I made a sound. He forcefully had his way with me and swore me to secrecy else he’d kill me and throw my corpse in the bushes.

It went on like every other night for about six months, he’d come to my room to defile me with the same threat of killing me if I told anyone about it.

It’s been three months now and I’ve not seen ‘my visitor’. I’m so scared and can’t imagine what’s happening. I’ve been sent home from school since our teachers noticed pregnancy symptoms. The proverbial cat is out of the bag. Uncle Ejiofor fled the village the night I told him about the pregnancy; Mama is on my neck on who is responsible, Papa has threatened to disown me. What do i tell them? How do I tell them? Will they believe me? All these questions burden me.

My heart is heavy, I cry myself to sleep every night, I look for vengeance for this man who has ruined my life….

**************

Advertisements

23 thoughts on “OBIM – Short story by Ajoke Ilori

  1. Nice story……..it’s quite unfortunate that the agony of a girl child still have to continue…i wish to slit her uncle throat myself……
    @tomi,pls can i send my poem?

    Like

  2. Well done to the writer, the things we seems to overlooked and say little attention to and it happens everyday in our society. Though did not tell us how it ends, tragedy, happy ending but it did passed vital message. And thank you Tomi for this platform.

    Like

  3. When will all dis abuse stop??? Lord have mercy on the innocent gurls and so called uncle of dis generation.!!! Nice piece.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s