ROOM 101 - A TRUE LIFE STORY BY DANCE BUG [ @graciousdemmie ]

On the 8th of March, 1993 Monday to be precise, right there in Lagos, Ajegunle popularly called "THE GHETTO", a child was born into the family of Williams. Don't get it twisted, not to a married couple but to a young girl still under the roof of her father.

My name is Benita and I'm that child. I hate to say that I am a child who came by mistake, but of a truth I am one. Some people may call it "BASTARD" but I know I am not a "BASTARD".
As I grew older, I wondered who my mother was, I never even wondered who my father was.

Are you surprised? Dont be!
I was made to believe that my Dad traveled and I felt that was settled.

"Who is my mother?" I asked myself.
"is it my grandmother? The woman who never stopped loving and caring for me till her death."
"Is it my aunty; Aunty Irene? The one who loved me so much that she became a nurse just to save my life at the point of death."
"Or the woman whom they all said gave birth to me, but never had my time?"

She was so busy making a living far away from home.
Hmmmm. Well.......I called the three of them "MUMMY" believing that one day I will make a decision on whom to call my mother.

Life was fun and without worries until I lost my grandmother. When this woman died, I began to know what hardship meant at that very tender age of mine. My aunty never stopped loving me though, but my mom (Eunice as fondly called ny my Aunty) now took responsibility of taking care of me. Life became hell for me. She hits me at every mistake I made as a child. Yeah you are right, cos you might be thinking that's normal but not to the extent of wanting to kill your own child.

I remember one incident so well like it was yesterday.  Do you know those old mat then that was made out of bamboo? That whenever you take it off the floor, you'll have to sweep away the charfs from the floor. Yeah!!!! You remember now. Good!!! I was so ill and I had to take my drugs. I mistakenly hit the syrup bottle and it fell and poured on the mat. Hmmmmm....you wont believe my mother told me to lick it all from the mat and those on the floor too. Mind you, there was no carpet on the floor, it was a bare floor. I cried my life out when doing this but she never told me to stop instead she would hit me if I stopped licking it. Only God knows the amount of dirts I swallowed that day.

I was so young and all I needed was care and attention but I got little of that because Aunty Irene became a full time nurse and wasn't always around, and my mother also was busy making a living, leaving me with my old and loving grandfather who also was not an idle man.

One fateful day, I was instructed to stay with my relation anytime I got back from school. Still in the same compound though there in Ajegunle and I did as instructed. Hmmmmmmm.............Guess what??? I was molested by my own cousin. Never knew what he did to me then for I was young but I felt pain. As if that was not enough, I was later molested by a man in that same compound.

I was playing with the other kids when he called me and sent me on an errand and on my arrival......I'm so sorry I won't want to go into details. These are events I never want to remember again in my life.

As time went by I realized that they had done something bad to me. I could tell no one because they were always busy and also I was this very quiet and scared child.
You might say to yourself;
"Why did this girl not inform her mom or aunty when they came back home from the day's job?".

I'd really love to throw a question to you;
If a mother could seriously beat her child for having a cut on her body without asking what led to the injury. Imagine what she would do to the child when the child complains that she feels pains all over her body? At that moment, I felt more strokes of the cane my mother would use on me if I complained to her. Yes, that's exactly what led to the fear.

Time went on and my mother got married. This time I felt things would get better and fall in place but still there was no changes at all. I found solace in going to school unlike other kids who would feel bad going to school and feel great staying at home. Whenever the school bell rang for departure, I felt sad that I would be going to that house again to meet that woman. If I don't do my assignment very well, I'd surely receive the beating of my life rather than being corrected. My neighbours are the only ones who always save me and that still depends on the person who comes to plead on my behalf, (whether elderly or young) else she would ignore the person and still beat the living day out of me.

This made the fear I had for my mother greater than the respect I had for her. Whenever she looks at me, she gets angry and there is always a sign of regret in her eyes. Although I have accepted that she is my mother and decided to live with it.
  Things got worse whe she gave birth to my younger sister. My sister was so disrespectful but I had no right to correct her when she insults me, all I do was report her to my mom but she does nothing and whenever I beat her, she beats me and say this particular phrase;
"DONT EVER TOUCH MY CHILD".

This got me confused more and more. At some point in time, I wondered when my father would come back because my mother had gotten married.

WHO IS MY FATHER???!!!

.....to be continued!!!

Written by: Dance Bug
BBM Pin: 2B6C2E67
Ff on Twitter: @graciousdemmie

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