Was Fred going out? Moni wondered. Well, she shouldn’t concern herself with that now. She sucked in a deep breath and continued with Ufuoma, “So sit down and explain the things that happened to you where you were staying before.”
Ufuoma sat down but didn’t talk.
“I’m listening.” Moni prompted.
She sighed and began, “My father died eight years ago. I was about ten years at the time. We were living in the village in Sapele. Things became very tough for us as the few things that our father had were carted away by his relatives, leaving our mother with nothing. She was teaching in an elementary school but her salary was very meager, it could not sustain us. Many times we drank only water at night.”
Moni’s eyes widened with shock.
Ufuoma continued. “My mother would pray over the bowl of water, asking God to turn the water to food inside us – to fill us. We would say – amen, drink the water and sleep. But by morning, we would be very hungry and would be crying. There was even a night that she was weeping too, as she prayed over the water again. It was obvious she was also hungry. I began to weep as well because praying over the water meant there was no food that night.” Tears began to roll down Ufuoma’s cheeks as she recounted the ordeal.
Tears filled Moni’s eyes too. This life could be cruel – she thought. She pulled a tissue and threw it to Ufuoma and pulled another one for herself.
Ufuoma took it and cleaned her face.
“How often did that happen in a week?” Moni asked mopping her eyes.
Ufuoma thought for some seconds before she spoke, “Probably once or twice a week. About eight months after, my mother obviously couldn’t cope any longer. She told my brother and me to pack our things that she was taking us to Lagos. I think she had got in touch with some people she knew. The other three children were crying that they wanted to come with us. But she said – no, that she needed them around her to make her happy.” Fresh tears rolled down her face.
Moni shook her head sadly. “But what about your father’s relatives? Didn’t they know you were suffering?”
“They knew but did nothing. Only one of them, Uncle Ike used to give us gari and rice, but even this, was not regular.”
Moni shook her head again.
Ufuoma cleaned her face with the tissue paper in her hand. “My mother left the other three children with Uncle Ike’s family until she came back from Lagos. She took my brother to a family in Lagos, and me to a woman’s house who was her friend. The woman is from our village. She and her husband didn’t have any child and they were always quarrelling. She was doing business and was traveling to Dubai and Cotonou to buy clothes. I would be at home alone with the man. The man was working in a Local Government office. Three months after I got there, the woman traveled again.”
“Jesus!” Moni said under her breath, hoping the girl would not say the man raped her.
“In the night at about nine, the man knocked the door of my room and told me to come to the living room to watch TV.”
“Oh my God!” Moni exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears again. She felt like telling the girl to stop. She didn’t want to hear any horrible news, but she couldn’t tell the girl to stop talking at this point, could she?
Ufuoma continued, “I obeyed. I sat on the floor but he asked me to sit on the chair. We watched the TV, which he turned on loud for just about ten minutes. Then he said he wanted us to play a game. I was just looking; I didn’t know he had anything in mind. Even if I knew, what would I have done? The wife had traveled, my mother was far away in the village and he was the one paying my school fees.”
“He tied my hands to the back and forced me.”
“Oh Jesus!” Moni gasped. She raised her right palm up, wanting to tell the girl to stop. She had heard enough. But if she didn’t hear the whole thing, how would she be able to help the girl? She brought the hand down.
Ufuoma sniffed and continued, not knowing the effect her story was having on Moni. “I cried and cried. He told me it was only a game but when he realized I wasn’t convinced about his excuse, he threatened me - saying I must not tell anyone. That was how it began. He did that regularly for -” she looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember, “I moved in with them at the age of ten, he continued until I was seventeen.”
“Oh my God!” Moni said under her breath. “For seven years? A married man – working in an office?” She asked disbelievingly. How cruel could people be?
Ufuoma nodded.
“That’s terrible. What about his wife?”
“She was not aware. She didn’t suspect a thing.”
“Were you ever pregnant or something?”
Ufuoma nodded.
“Oh my God!” Moni said again, clearly shocked. “How many times?”
Peace got up from the floor and went to Ufuoma. Ufuoma carried her on her laps before she answered, “Twice.”
“Father, have mercy!” Moni exclaimed. “What did he do?”
“He would take me to the hospital and abort it. There was a day he slapped me for getting pregnant so easily. Later, he was giving me pills to prevent it.”
Moni felt her heart breaking. She placed a hand on her chest. What she was hearing was too much for her heart. She hoped she would not develop high blood pressure. “And his wife never knew about this?”
“She eventually got to know and that was what made me to leave. She searched my bag one day and found the pills. She asked whom I had been sleeping with. I didn’t know what to say. She beat me thoroughly until I confessed everything the man had been doing. She broke down and wept. I was weeping too and knelt down, asking her to forgive me. When her husband came back, she confronted him. The following day she sent me back to my mother and also packed her things and left the man.”
“Was that last year?”
“Yes, last year May. At that time, my mother had moved down to Lagos.”
Moni nodded. “That was when she joined the church. Was it when you were sent back to her that she got to know about what the man was doing to you or did you tell her about it while it was going on?”
“I didn’t tell her before. It was when I was sent back to her that she knew everything.”
“And what did she say?”
“She wept and cursed the man.”
Moni shook her head sadly as she thought – weeping and cursing in the corner of one’s room would not change anything. Then she asked herself, what would she do as a mother under the same circumstance? She thought for some seconds and shook her head again. She wasn’t sure of what she would do. She might do worse than Ufuoma’s mother did. The best thing would be for such a thing not to happen to her child. Prevention is better than cure.
“But at the age of seventeen, you were old enough to say no to the man or to get in touch with your mother, why didn’t you? Why did you allow him to continue?” Moni wanted to know.
Ufuoma pressed her lips together, “I was ….”
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