Lord, is my life a play book? I thought. Why do you keep doing this to me? I eventually opened my eyes and the first person I saw was my sister. I felt my whole life crumbling in front of me. Should I tell or should I conceal my pain? Etamehana you may be coursed.
As I struggled to sit on the hospital bed, I could notice all my family members had their eyes fixed on me. I immediately asked my sister Etamenova about her wedding arrangements, and she said no one knew exactly what went wrong with me, they were all worried, so the elderly amongst the both family stayed back to talk on the bride price and perhaps come to a resolution.
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I sighed. I couldn’t understand why my head was wrapped with so much… was I satisfied with the fact that a reasonable number of my family members all wished me good health or was I okay with the fact that my sister Nova was about to be given out to a rapist?
Suddenly, I felt a severe strain on my forehead and I could feel my head pounding. I gently laid back and complained to my sister and my mother quickly called out to the doctors.
I was checked; my temperature and all sorts. I was given a drip and asked to rest for a while. My family members were asked to excuse me for some time.
As I shot my eyes, I could sense the heavy tension as to what was wrong with me. Not minding that, I was a bit relieved as to the fact that I had ample time to have a deep thought as to the consequences of my actions: if I choose to or not to voice out. With this thought, I saw myself fading off.
I beamed my eyes and saw my child in the arms of my mum. I looked at the clock at the right corner of my bunk and saw that I slept for more than four hours.
My mum noticed that I was awake. She and Christabel rushed to help me up. I felt loved though. I was happy these people were in my life. My mum told me the doctor said we could leave that evening. I smiled and asked where we would stay.
“Your dad’s place of course,” she said.
My mother was eager to know what went wrong with me. She asked and I only gave her a nod. I didn’t know exactly if she got the message or interpreted it well but I was relieved with the fact that she didn’t push further.
I knew I owed the entire family an explanation, but how would I go about this? Would they believe me or would they think I was out to make my sister unhappy?
I felt totally un-eased and was worried because for major part of my life, I was faced with difficult decisions to make, and that made me feel like God cared less about me. I had my back just by myself. I didn’t speak ill about him but my thoughts were more religious than being that of a Christian.
When we arrived my father’s house and got into our room, I immediately grabbed my mother’s hand and whispered into her ears, “He raped me; we can’t allow him get married to nova”.
My mum quickly pulled her hands away from mine. She gave me that hideous body language and shut the door on me. Few minutes later, she came back almost teary and asked, “Why do you always try to ruin everything good?”
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I was confused at first but when she said, “You almost ruined your own life if not for the grace of God. Look at what you want to do to your own sister, are you ok?” I understood exactly her point. Hana, the bad blood, the spoiler, the good for nothing child. I could see in her eyes the regret as to why I was born or why she picked me over Nova, and I just couldn’t place which. Oh! Here we go again! Why my mum couldn’t pick my side for once still baffles me.
Why couldn’t she just believe me? Why am I always at fault? I felt hurt and betrayed because over the years my mum couldn’t see pass through the image she painted about me in her head. This was the same fear I had, and so I couldn’t tell my mum when I was raped by this so called in-law of ours.
My mum ordered me to speak of no such thing and that I should be happy for my sister. Why would my mum think so less of me, why would she think I never meant well for my sister? I had no answer to all these questions in my head. I felt imprisoned not like something was used to gag my mouth, but it felt like I was free to voice out and at the same time all the powers and control I have over words disappeared.
The families had their discussions until later parts of the evening and I was informed they were asked to pass the night. I was worried and decided to talk to my sister privately; maybe she would believe me, so I thought.
I waited until midnight and I guess the room adjacent to ours was hers as I saw her go in and out of the room on certain occasions. When I got to the door, I opened without knocking and tip-toed towards the bed. It was dark and I couldn’t see clearly. I tapped the person under the duvet thinking it was my sister. I was grabbed and raised to the bed.
I was so scared because I felt powerless and a firm hand preventing me from moving. I remembered the voice keenly, “Etamehana, my sweet succulent girl”. He continued, “If you shout, the entire family would question what exactly you came to my bedroom to do at about 1:30am. You have nothing on me; your life is a mess. Who would believe you?”
Indeed, who would? I laid there helpless. His words crushed my self-defence; it was as if I was completely paralysed. I felt his hand covering my mouth thus; I won’t have a come-back. All I did was cry quietly. This monster raped me over and over and over again.
I was pinned to the bed helpless and in severe pain. When he was done with me, he pushed me out like a piece of dirt. I struggled finding my way back to my room. On entering, my mum woke up demanding to know what I was up to. I ignored her and went straight into the bathroom, put on the shower and cried my heart out.
Before the sun rose, I began packing our stuffs while at it; I overheard my mum explaining to my dad and his people about my ill health. I never knew my mum would turn out to be a fantastic story teller. I was angered, disgusted and I simply walked passed them giving my mum a shady look.
My dad followed me upstairs to have a little chat with me. He ended up saying he would be there for me if I needed to talk to anyone. To me, that was pointless as I had come to a conclusion that all I had was me.
Oh my poor Christabel, how do I tell her that “life itself is suffering”. All I needed was to leave that space and no one or words would stop me.
I simply nodded my head as he left. I cried my heart out and continued packing the rest of our luggage.
As I stepped outside, I heard my sister scolding the janitor by the side of the house. I decided to eavesdrop. Lo and behold, this monster had been molesting anything on skirt.
I was furious. My anger level blurted with the fact that my sister was aware and still wanted to go ahead with the wedding plans. I wanted attacking my sister initially, at least something to bring her back to her senses, if she had any.
I saw how frightened the poor girl was and I completely understood her pains. I casually walked towards them to save her the emotional and mental torture. Immediately my sister saw me, she left angrily. I consoled the girl and told her to take the day off. I decided to help her out at the kitchen. Several thoughts ran through my mind on plans to poison my in-laws but I didn’t know how to go about this plan.
After a while, a conversation ensued at the sitting room. I wondered what it was that had everyone attention. So I decided to check out what was going on and to my greatest shock, I saw my baby in the arms of that monster. He was caressing, stroking and fondling her hair while whispering funny what I know not to her.
I stared at everyone and they seemed to care less or rather felt normal about this behaviour. I looked at my mum and I could read “behave yourself” from her looks. Why me? Who is to behave here? So I thought. With such fury, I screamed at him never to lay his filthy hands on my daughter and I asked Christabel to go into the car and wait for me.
As everyone stared at me wondering what was wrong, the supposed groom ran upstairs. For the first time ever, I saw fear in his eyes. I quickly ran to the kitchen and as I cried, my mum ran after me. I didn’t want to set my eyes on her or hear her voice. I begged her to leave me alone but she insisted I apologized to the family for the entire attitude I put up.
I just needed her to leave but she didn’t and as she kept murmuring, with much rage, I took a knife and stabbed my mum. At this point, I didn’t know if I was in control of myself or not. I simply took the knife and ran upstairs. I got into his room and shot the door. I recount his entire ordeal and as he approached me gently before he got a grip of me, I slit his throat.
I paid no attention to caution, not even the voices pleading behind the closed door. I sat on him and stabbed him on his chest three times consecutively and then I took off his pants and cut of his manhood.
You could call me, “an insane mad twin sister” I cared less. I made up my mind to face the repercussion of my actions and it seemed my mind was made up. Maybe this will help me heal.
When I finally opened the door, I threw the chopped off penis at my sister. No one dared approached me; to them I had completely gone insane. There was a tensed but yet silent chaos in the house. I just walked straight into the sitting room; there I sat awaiting my fate.
TO BE CONTINUED
