Who Did It To You?

Social Justice, Stories 4/06/2020 by Love Dooshima Gema

Growing up with my parents was a wonderful experience. My mum being a nurse and my dad an evangelist. We had maids live with us all through my primary school days because my dad was almost always away for a crusade, I could see him once or twice a week, my mum was always on shifts and came back exhausted.

My elder cousins often visited so home was fun I must say. I and my siblings shared a strange bond, my parents made sure of that, I still can’t say if it’s because we all ate together, and we were banned from beating anyone. (if you’re offended, wait for dad or mom to get home then you report even if it takes days). Well, their policies paid off in a way because we are still stuck on each other like butter on bread.

My parents were mad at me and all they kept asking was “who did it to you? So you want to spoil our good name in this town?

After I left primary school, my parents stayed home more than they used to. They tried to know us, tried to listen more. I guess we were already used to not talking to them so much, so we always mumbled some replies when they ask personal questions. We talk more when I need help with something my elder brother can’t handle. The gap was already built and it lasted till I turned 19.

I was a first year student at BSU, my elder brother was also a student there, so we often went to school together. I noticed for over a week I had persistent tummy ache, I complained to my brother, and then he told my mum, she asked a few questions and gave me some drugs. I got relieved for few days and it all got worse, I lost appetite and was losing vigor with every passing day. I remember waking up that morning in excruciating pains and I couldn’t leave my bed.

My brother walked in when he was ready to leave, I just told him to go without me, I didn’t think I could make it. He mentioned to my parents, so he didn’t have to collect pocket money for me too. My mum came around, asked a few questions and diagnosed I was down with appendicitis. She reached a friend of mine who came to assist me in bathing and packing my bag because she had to report at work before we go to the hospital.

We finally made it to FMC Makurdi, the doctor who examined me was her secondary school classmate. Well, no surgery was to be done, with no assistance I was asked to walk to the car and I didn’t like the look on my mum’s face. She stopped at a pharmacy and got drugs (PLENTY) then we got home. She asked me to take some which I did. My parents were mad at me and all they kept asking was “who did it to you? So you want to soil our good name in this town?…” if only I had the faintest inkling of what they were saying. Sometimes, those questions were accompanied by slaps.

I finally got to know through my elder brother that the doctor told my mum I was suffering from aftermath of abortion. They didn’t believe all I said or didn’t say, so I started throwing away the drugs. I couldn’t do anything at a point, till my brother reached my aunt who came around when my parents were out, we headed for Air force hospital after I told her I didn’t even know what a Man’s penis looked like, and I was still a virgin. After tests at air force hospital the result wasn’t same at all. My parents finally went for a confirmation after having a quarrel with my aunt at Wurukum specialist hospital and that’s when I started receiving adequate attention and proper treatment. Doctor said I was down with Hay Fever.

We got better over time, I talk to my parents now about anything . we are friends , yes they apologized in their own way and they understand who I am. That I have male visitors doesn’t mean I’m having sex with them, I just have more male friends than females. Now they know what I’m capable of and the things I love.

It’s children’s day, how much do you know your child(ren)? Has the lockdown helped you bond with them or they are just monsters running everywhere and eating and you can’t wait for things to get back to normal so you see less of them? Will you hear something about your child and know for sure he/she did this or not?

Should I ask about his/her best friend(s), best color, best sport, favorite food, favorite subject even if he/she doesn’t perform so well?

No be to bring pikin come this world o, you sabi your pikin wella?

No be social media barazana o.

You dey show am love for house?

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