The Rape
The little girl was playing with a pot of sand behind her house when a young man of about fifteen walked in. He was carrying a heavy bag on his arm. Omosefe who was six years old at the time and enjoyed playing Amababa looked up reluctantly from her little pot of fried rice. It was Uncle Tosin again, why did he always appear to disrupt her cooking? She pretended not to be aware of his presence.
“Omosefe! So you’re still playing there? Come and take your mommy’s things inside let me leave” Uncle Tosin said.
“Why are you now shouting?” Omosefe grumbled under her breath as she got up to take the bag from him.
“What did you say?” Tosin asked threateningly
“Nothing,” Omosefe said quickly, narrowly dodging the smack that had been sailing her way. Omosefe walked to the kitchen and dropped the bag just inside the door, impatient to get back to her games. She turned and ran into Uncle who had been standing behind her. She tried to walk around him but he held her back.
She looked into his face, Uncle Tosin looked nervous and was licking his lips. He turned around suddenly, dragging her with him. Omosefe began to cry, was he still angry that she had failed to attend to him when he arrived?
“Uncle, please! I will not do it again” she cried.
“Shut up! If you cry, it will be worse for you!” Uncle Tosin promised. She put her free hand over her mouth and sobbed. He was her mother’s nephew and that made him her cousin. Their age gap however meant she was made to call him “uncle” out of respect. He took her to his room and locked the door. Then he told her to sit on the bed while he rummaged in the corner for something.
“Uncle Tosin, please!! I will not do it again! At all At all! Please, Uncle Tosin!” She was getting desperate.
Uncle Tosin walked up to her and pinned her down to the bed. “Do what I say you should do and I won’t beat you okay?” He whispered in her ears.
Omosefe was relieved “Okay,” she said, bobbing her small head so tears splashed between them.
“Open your legs,” Uncle Tosin said. Omosefe opened her legs like a good little girl.
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***
Omosefe knew she was an actor that day as she walked down the street with her Jamb result sitting in her handbag like a hot coal. She was a failed actor who had refused to memorize the script of life and moved on to the next scene. Failing Jamb five times might be pretty normal for others, but it wasn’t for a girl whose father was a lecturer.
She was expected to pass. An apple should not fall far from the tree. Her father was a mathematician at the University of Benin. To add salt to injury, their family’s income was low. In a country where a poor man’s child has no excuse to fail, Omosefe felt like the biggest piece of waste on the face of the earth.
In the days when her family was still hopeful for her, she would have received a rousing welcome as she reached her house. That was how the first time was actually, her mom ran out of the house to welcome her Jambite daughter. She had backtracked when she saw the tears on Omosefe’s face.
“What is this?!” Her father’s voice had been a bellow. Omosefe pleaded her cause, her computer had gone off. All the questions had been brought from a part of the textbook she didn’t read. Her father smacked her across the room and walked out. Her mother was left to add salt to the injury.
She told Omosefe that henceforth she was not allowed to use a phone in the house until she passed her Jamb. She said she thought her daughter was more mature than that, letting the talks of stupid boys cloud her brain. She warned Omosefe that anytime she was caught with a boy that would be the death of her.
The third time, nobody ran out to meet her, nobody beat her, nobody told her anything. Later that day, her father beat her mother after they had an argument. He called Omosefe a useless child who her mother was bringing up the wrong way. Then he stormed out to drink with his friends. One week later, when her mother was healed enough, Omosefe was taken to the barber’s shop to cut all her hair.
This time, She didn’t know what to expect from her parents. Would they beat her? Would they starve her for a day or a few days? She was twenty one now, she was supposed to be a “big girl” already but her parents still beat her like a child. In their eyes, she was a small child until she passed her exams.
Her mother was breaking melon when Omosefe got in. She didn’t even look up.
“Good afternoon ma” Omosefe greeted with a shaky voice.
“Did you pass?” Her mother asked. Omosefe shook her head. Her mother laughed bitterly. “Anyway, your father told me to tell you that your Jamb subscription is over. If you are ever going to write Jamb again, the expenses will be on you.”
“Whenever you are done wasting your time, meet me for the money to go learn tailoring,” her father said, Omosefe was startled, she hadn’t realized he was standing in the darkness. He looked at her with disgust for one final time before he went back to his room.
***
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Mama Doctor was a Confam market woman, the type who was not ashamed to call herself a market woman. After all, she had been able to use the money procured from the sales of Okrika clothes to send all her children to school. She had three daughters and her son Paul who was fondly called Doctor, was the last child.
While her other children had gone off to marry, Paul was yet to complete his university education and still lived with his mother. He too had tried Jamb twice, hoping to study medicine and surgery. In his third year, he accepted the microbiology that was given to him. It wasn’t her dream, but it was enough to placate his mother(who didn’t know better anyway). It also helped that he came back home during holidays decked in a clean, starched lab coat.
His mother threw a small party the day he graduated. Omosefe was sent to collect the family’s share of food. When she got to the house, most people had left and she saw Mama Doctor trying to tidy up the place a little.
“Mîgwó ma” she greeted the women, with one knee bent.
“Vrendõ my darling. Your mother has sent you again. That woman! Please when you get home ask her if her honeymoon has still not ended after almost thirty years” Mama Doctor said, laughing good-naturedly.
“I will tell her ma”
“Ehen… that’s a good girl. How are your elder ones?” Mama Doctor asked.
“They are fine ma”
“Doctor! My Doctor!” The market woman called, she turned and winked at Omosefe who blushed. A young man’s voice was heard deep inside the house.
If Omosefe was to describe Doctor she would say he was his mother’s vomit. Dark skinned and tall, he was a handsome young man. When his eyes fell on her, they didn’t land on any particular area of her body. It was obvious he saw her as a small child, after all, she had once called him Uncle Paul those days when he used to dash her sweets and biscuit. She blushed at the memory.
“Doctor, go and bring the brown cooler in the kitchen” his mother commanded. Before he left, he looked at Omosefe again and she was forced to greet him.
“Good afternoon sir,” she said, genuflecting. He stopped in his tracks.
“You look familiar,” he said, one hand scratching his brain.
“It is Omosefe na. That your small wife” Mama Doctor said laughing.
“Yes! My God, you are so big now!” Doctor appraised, his eyes skitting over her.
“Thank you,” Omosefe said, Doctor nodded and entered the house, still smiling.
When he came out he handed the small cooler to her. The scent of Jollof made her momentarily dizzy. She took it and genuflected to both mother and son.
“How is school na,” Doctor asked. Omosefe bit the inside of her cheek.
“Fine Sir,” she said. Mama Doctor snapped her finger.
“Ehen! Omò, I said I would ask you about your Jamb. Has the result come?” She asked
“Yes ma”
“How was it? Hope you passed?” Mama doctor urged. Omosefe was silent.
“No ma,” she said finally when the silence became awkward.
“That’s okay,” Doctor said. Omosefe was grateful. “These lecture houses don’t know what they are doing anyway,” he looked at her “I’ll be opening a small private jamb lesson soon. I want you to join us”
“Thank you, Sir,” Omosefe said, although she was unsure.
“Don’t mention it,” Doctor replied.
***
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When Omosefe had come to a final decision, she went to her father and asked him to take her for the apprenticeship.
“So you have finally come to your senses? After five years of wasting my hard-earned money!”
He took her to Mama Shádè’s shop two streets away, partly because she was a good enough tailor and also because of the proximity to their house. Omosefe was to leave work by 4 PM every weekday and 6 PM on Saturdays.
When Uncle Tosin came home she told him of her plans. He was the only one she could trust to keep her secret and that was convenient because she couldn’t actually not tell anyone. She had decided to attend Doctor’s private lessons so long as other students came too but she still needed male protection. She wanted to surprise her parents with a pass this time.
“Don’t worry, no fear. I even need to go and welcome him. While we discuss I will definitely hint that I’m aware you’ll be attending his lesson. That should be warning enough” Uncle Tosin reassured her.
That was it, Omosefe spent her days in Mama Shàdé’s shop from 8 AM in the morning to 2 PM in the afternoon. They had come into an agreement.
“You said you want to go for your lesson,” Mama Shàdé repeated.
“Yes, ma” Omosefe replied.
“You said you will work harder during the time you’ll be here,” Mama Shàdé said.
“Yes ma”
“Hope your parents are aware? I hope you’re not doing this because you want to go see a man? If you get pregnant, I will have no hand in it o..” Mama Shàdé warned.
“No ma! I just want to pass Jamb” Omosefe said emphatically, she was close to tears. Mama Shàdé took one long glance at her before turning back to her sewing.
“Okay o.. don’t say I didn’t warn you” she murmured. Omosefe felt like kissing her feet.
***
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From the gate, Omosefe could hear the voice of Doctor teaching the small class. She smiled, by next week, it would be one month since she started coming for these lessons. They were altogether twelve students crammed into Doctor’s verandah now. She had been the third person to enroll and since then, their numbers had increased steadily.
They had all been asked to pay a small sum of one thousand naira. Omosefe took it out of her savings, it gave her a sense of independence to know she was paying for her own education now. The classes were more than worth it, Doctor was a born teacher. He knew how to phrase concepts in ways that made them easy to digest, he also answered questions patiently.
“Good afternoon Sir” Omosefe greeted as she stepped into the veranda. Doctor nodded in her direction and continued teaching.
***
When she arrived at Doctor’s house that day, she was both surprised and intrigued. Surprised because she was the first person to arrive and intrigued because he was working on a small shed outside the house. It was obvious he intended to relocate his class there, as the veranda had become increasingly uncomfortable.
“Good afternoon Sir” she greeted. It took him some time to hear her because of the roaring noise from the generator.
“Good afternoon Omosefe” he replied. His voice was loud. “Come”
She went over to meet him “I’m here Sir”
“Please help me go bring a pack of nails from inside the house. It is on the kitchen counter” he said. Omosefe was surprised, was she close enough to the family to be allowed inside their home? Nevertheless, she was pleased. Who wouldn’t want to go trudging inside someone else’s house?
The living room was big and spacious. The white walls made light bounce off the shiny gray tiles. “Wow,” Omosefe thought “so Mama doctor is this rich”. She could see the pack of nails on the kitchen table from the living room and she walked towards it quickly, she had spent too much time admiring it already. If she spent more time, she might just be labeled a thief.
“Omosefe,” Doctor called. He was standing at the kitchen door, Omosefe’s heart skipped a beat, had he sent her in to test her? Thank God she hadn’t touched anything.
“Give it to me. Thank you” he said, stretching out his hand. She walked up to him and gave him the bag of nails. He was standing so close.
“I waited for so long I had to come in,” he said huskily. Omosefe’s brain was going into overdrive. Suddenly there was so much sex in the air and she couldn’t breathe. He kissed her.
“No.”
“What? Don’t you want it?” He asked, his hands were all over her body.
“No, please. Let me leave” Omosefe said, trying in vain to push him away from her. He held her in a vice-like grip so their chests were squished together and he continued kissing her. She struggled but suddenly he lifted her off the ground. That was when she started shouting.
“Please don’t do this! I’m a virgin! Please!” She cried but he wasn’t listening. He dragged her into his room.
On the bed, he made quick work of her clothes. She clawed at him and he slapped her across the face as they both shouted in pain. He gently removed her skirt but ripped her panties off. By this time Omosefe was screaming her lungs out and trying her best to push him off her. This was not how she planned to lose her virginity. He thrust into her and her screams died. It was over.
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The mind is a funny thing though. Every stroke pushed her deeper into a part of her mind she had since locked away. Stroke. She saw her six-year-old self being dragged into a room. Uncle Tosin’s room. Stroke. She saw Uncle Tosin on top of her. Stroke. She remembered the excruciating pain when he penetrated her and his strong hand digging into her mouth.
Stroke. She remembered laying in his bed as he cleaned her up. Stroke. She remembered her six-year-old self lying in bed and pretending to be sick when her mother came home, just what Uncle Tosin told her to do. Her mind went blank, it was a sudden but complete action.
Paul gave one final jerk, spilling the last drop of his seed into the girl beneath him. He was sweating profusely, she had been more difficult to conquer than he had envisaged. He fell unto the other side of the bed, breathing hard and sated. Omosefe gave no reaction. He touched her body but she didn’t move.
He shook her forcefully but she didn’t move. He yanked her around to face him and chills went up his spine. It felt as though someone had poured cold water on him. Omosefe was staring at him, with wide unblinking eyes.
Quick Questions
- What do you have to say about Omosefe’s parent’s manner of parenting?
- What was the cause of the first rape?
- What was the cause of the second rape?
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