He is already some inches into me. I wriggled my waist severally to free myself from the grip but the more I do that the deeper he gets so I resigned to fate, at least the pain will stop.
Jide had invited me to his room on a Friday afternoon. Everyone in the compound had gone out. His mother and siblings had traveled for the Christmas holiday and he would be joining them the following day. He had come home to see me if not he would have gone straight from his school. But he came to me because the last time we saw was two months ago when he came home to get some foodstuff and hiss stipend. I had seen him off to the park. He looked at me and expressed his love for me the umpteenth time. Even though I felt he was lying I still took him serious; a brilliant young undergraduate for that matter, saying he loves a fresh school leaver like myself.
“I am telling you the truth; I don’t like those campus girls. They are just too hypocritical for me”, he would say each time he saw that I wasn’t really taking his words seriously. How could I have taken those sweet nothings seriously? Many times, I have seen him in an uncompromising state with different ladies. Pictures don’t lie.
Everybody says I have a figure of a full grown woman with the right curves and shape. But I don’t see all of those. They even say my pretty face will give any beauty queen a run for whatever she may profess but I still don’t see that. I have many years ahead of me. I am looking forward to writing JAMB in few months and I must get myself prepared for what lies ahead. Jide showed interest in my study as he assumed the role of an advisor. Thanks to my parents as they would always call him in to seek one clarification or the other concerning my choice course of study and the institutions that offer the programme.
“I will suggest she goes for Mass Communication as I can tell she likes broadcasting”. He must have eavesdropped on my conversation with my friends one of those times we would argue why one course of study is better than the other. I have always loved broadcasting. Each time I see Abike Dabiri on the NTA network I always wanted to be like her. Then when Adesuwa Oyenukwe comes on, nothing compares to the joy I feel on the inside: For me it is broadcasting.
“Why don’t you go to Jide anytime you have issues filling your form. He is your brother anyway”, my mother would say. Jide would smile and half-prostrate then leave for the room and a parlour self-contain at the backyard that he lives with his mother and siblings. My parents, 6 siblings I occupied a makeshift two room but originally one room in the face-me-I-face-you tenement in Ijora Badia Area.
The life I see around me is not what I am proud of. I never want such a life. But what can I do if that’s where life itself says that is where my life will start from. The only thing I can do is to better my life through acquiring good education. I don’t want a life in the slum.
Brother Jide as I used to call him is God-sent. Always. Ready to help. Always. We got closer and closer. His tutelage gave me an hedge over my peers and some of them would even beg me to meet him but I hoarded the knowledge. I looked forward to attending a university anxiously. “I would not be like any of those campus girls at all”, I would tell my mentor. “Brother Jide, tell me what it is like on campus?” and my lover would load me with stories of gigs he attended in company of girls. This one wants him. That one wants him. I started getting jealous especially when my friends started showing interest in meeting him. He must be hot I accepted eventually. But how does one determine human hotness? My naivety would not allow me decipher such.
“Anytime we are together don’t call me Brother jor, you make me feel like a paedophile”.
“Paedo…?”
“Paedophile: old men that take advantage of young girls. Or. Am I?”
“Taking advantage of me? No! I love you!”
“I love you too”.
Jide moved closer to me and tried to plant his lips on mine but I drew back.
“What is it?” He breathed into his palm just as many toothpaste ads suggest for a breath-check. “Do I have a bad breath?” he asked.
“Not at all!”
“Then what?!”
“I don’t know how”
“Adijaaaaat! “ he rolled over to the other side as he laughed. “You want to tell me you haven’t done this or more before?”
“No, I haven’t . I am a virgin”
“It’s a lie?!”, he snouted.
“I am telling you the truth”
He looked at me with much astonishment written all over his face. He only moved closer and held me as both of us kept quiet for a while.
“Then I will love you forever”, he broke the silence. Just at that point a knock came at the door then we both rushed to the sitting room and feigned study-mode before he got the door. I still have my long dress and hijab intact. My father would not allow any of his girls leave the house without observing the Islam usance. My elder sister would even walk into the bathroom all decked, though my two younger sisters enjoy clemency while I am a bit flexible in my coverings. That’s why I usually doubt the judgment of anyone that says they see beyond the thick cover.
“I will be going back to school in two days time:”, my lover told me at our rendezvous. A pavement just outside of the compound. Anyone sits here but we would be the last to leave the arena; sometimes we would be there till very late in the night and since it is just by the side of the building and since it is Brother Jide and Adijat there is no problem. My father would even greet and walk through us into the house anytime he comes back from his séances. As far as anyone is concerned both of us are safe in each other’s company. It is Brother Jide we are talking about. He is the same age as my elder brother. The only boy in my family. Sule is not given to too much study so he couldn’t put me through like Jide and my elder sister will be writing the forthcoming GCE, in fact, we enrolled together.
Just as we both went in for the night, Jide pulled me to himself immediately he bolted the door behind us and like a ballerina dancer I collapsed into his waiting arms. He kissed me. I responded. It was sweet. I liked it.
The next morning, I couldn’t look straight into his face. He stood in their living room; his usual stand point. He watched me as I carried by bath water into the bathroom. I held on to the tip of my wrapper with my left hand as I carried the bucket tilting more to my right like a Shylock scale will outsmart whatever that is just. He smiled and I gently returned the smile without looking up his direction. My father was at the backyard performing his ablution. His mother was watching clothes by the window. A neighbour was in the kitchen just by the bathroom and my youngest sister was having her bath outside by the bed of the tap. Nobody saw what was going on. It was just an even for two lovebirds. Just the two of us.
I can’t wait for everyone to go their ways. I can’t wait for the night to come. I can’t wait for the rendezvous. Seated on the pavement under the moonlight by the side of the house at the entrance of Iya Muti’s beer parlour. I can’t wait for Jide to latch the door…
“I will be going very early tomorrow. I have an assignment to submit by 4pm”, my lover dropped and I looked forlorn.
“How long will you be gone for?”
“I can’t tell”
The forlornness became more amplified. I imagined what one of those girls would do with Jide if they had a taste of his lips. They would be willing and ready for him unlike me. I am not ready to go beyond what happens behind the latched doors. Our Imam had taught us it is dignifying to yield our hymen to our man alone.
“I hope you will not go kissing every girl in your school?” I eventually joked but I meant it. For real.
“I swear they are just my friends. I don’t deal more than friendship”, he defended.
Everybody had gone in. We must go in also but not until my father returned from mosque. He is usually the last person that comes home late. Before now he was the one that latches the door but these past few days the onus has fallen on Jide and I. Just as expected, he came back from the mosque and few minutes after Jide latched the door. Ordinarily, I would have walked out of the darkness to go wait for him under the light but I stood close to him as he fastened the final bolt then I offered him myself. Just my lips. He took it further and cupped by breasts and groped my body. I moaned. He held me close to himself and we were there for some time. We only broke away, hurriedly when we heard footsteps. My father wanted to perform his final ablution for the day. He does that every night after his dinner.
The next morning I heard his movement in the passage. But this time he knocked on our door to inform my mom he is leaving for school. It is my message.
The long wait began.
His mother would only return to give his warm regards to my mom as he had called her office from a NITEL phone in his school. I remembered one thing he would buy in surplus were NITEL phone cards. Each time she gave the message I knew by extension it was for me.
Then he came back home. A month after he left. The school has been shut down indefinitely following a violent protest by students against purported hike in school fees. “What do you mean by indefinite closure?”, my mother had asked him as he stepped into the backyard where everyone was seated.
“It means we would only go back to school whenever the school authority deems fit”, he responded with his bright eyes glowing even in the dark. His mother received him into her waiting arms. He is sure a mummy’s boy. His siblings love and admire him. He is brilliant. His friends mill around him for his warmth and large heartedness. He is love by everybody.
“Adijat, when is your exam?”, he asked.
My heart leapt, “it is some weeks away”, I managed to answer.
“When exactly?!”, my mouther shouted.
“3 weeks”.
“I am available anytime. Let’s hope the school authority will allow me stay around through the period”, he walked into their parlour and shut the net behind him but I can see him beyond the door. What a glow moment I got back into my life.
“Are you still intact?”, Jide asked me the next day we met.
“As ever!”, I smiled as I presented him loads of poetry I have composed even though I considered them arrhythmical, they are straight songs from my heart. He laughed and presented his own rhythm:
Who Says…
Who says love have eyes!
I have seen a sepia
Fallen for a negroid
The mighty
Walking like a dove
In the presence of the weak.
The richest
Who is meant to be riding
On the high horse of pride
But strolling in the miry
With a pariah.
Where does this feeling come from?
I wonder as I see
A little cherubim
Am archer
Firing his arrows indiscriminately
Each arrow hitting a twosome
Opposite sex.
A beautiful woman clapping at the corner
And I asked why so happy at this shot
She says…
I am venus and that is Cupid my son
A perfect archer though blind.
To My Heart
Dearer to my heart
As I go far
Nearer to my mind
As I draw nigh
Priceless to my soul
An invaluable treasure
That you are
For I know
Amor Vinceit Omnia-
Love conquers all.
I read those words and all the virtues in me flew. I wanted to hold him. I held the papers dear to me and hid them where even rats could not locate. They are the first love notes I got from my lover. I have received love letters before. Quite a few. From those young boys that would not get their daily feed if they don’t wash plates in their mother’s kitchen. These were matured lines from a matured man compare to those lines skewed from Mills and Boons then mixed with R&B lyrics diluted with some Hispanic Calypso then laced with Reggae from the golden era through to the new age. You can tell such watery compositions from the mixes and the remixes. What Jide gave me was straight from the heart. Original!
Jide put me through my study. Most times we used their living room. His sibling would be there at times. We would only go beyond the veil if no one is in the house. We would use the inner room. My exams went well and the result would come sometime later in the year. I would have to wait. We would have to wait.
“You know it is high time we lay ourselves.”
“Lay ourselves?”
“I want to have you.”
“Not yet”
“When?”
“Maybe when I gained admission by that time you would have rounded up your study and married me.”, I told my lover but he went cold. I rubbed his body to calm him as that is what we resorted to each time he wanted me. I watch him shower many times and he watched me too. He said that would help both of us. The first time I went full nude before him, I covered my private and my tiny breasts with my hands but he made me comfortable telling me how beautiful my body is. He made me realize I wouldn’t need the padded bra I have always worn. He likes lacy instead. I exhibited confidence more and more anytime we were together and he had helped administered some ointment around my private at different times. We were discreet. Nobody ever saw our shadows not to talk of our physicality to be in a compromising state. What they could only say is that we held hands.
“My mom too never believed I am still a virgin”
“How do I believe you are telling the truth if I don’t test it?”
“If you would try it then I won’t be a virgin anymore”
“I will be gentle…”, he mounted me, held me down under his weight.
“Noooo! I don’t want….”
“Don’t shout”, he covered my mouth to the point of asphyxiation, he firmed his grip on my hands. He held both of my hands with his left arm pinned to my head by holding few strands of my hair. Altogether, I couldn’t move a muscle around my upper region. He spread my legs with his legs and he went in. Few inches into me I felt dripping moisture from my private. I wriggled and wriggled hoping that I will eject him out of me but he spread my legs the more as he leaned the more on me. I only stopped when I saw that the more I wriggled the deeper he got. Finally, he came out and wet my navel with his water.
I wept!
The clot of blood and water on the bedspread demoralized me gravely.
Pain enveloped my whole being. I felt useless. My ego is bruised. My priceless pearl has been cheaply sought. Trampled. Thrashed.
He said he is sorry. He should respect me. My nay is not aye!
Few days later, I explained what happened to my sister as she noticed my broodiness. Surprisingly, she wasn’t alarmed.
“Just keep it to yourself, it’s a mundane”, she dispassionately consoled. I watched her as she walked out of the room. She must have lost her virginity in her efflorescence. Even to a savage.
*Rape is a social aberrance and rapists are to be castrated.
Taken from yet to be published What Suzzie Wants.
