• Saturday, December 02, 2023
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Damaged good?

Damaged good?

I have been through murky waters. I have seen pain. I have felt heartache. Life has been hardchallenging. Maybe you’ll understand better after you read my story…

My parents had an unhealthy marriage. My father was an easy-going man but my mother? The thought of her makes me cringe. Mom was cantankerous. Her tongue was like a double-edged sword…caustic, offensive, and sharp. My mom could have won several medals if being troublesome was an Olympic sport. I caught my dad sobbing a number ofseveral times after she had given him a bad verbal bath.

There was no getting through to my mom. I remember telling her how a boy in the neighborhood and a cleaner at school were fond of “touching” me, and she turned it against me. She said I was the one chasing after them because I had the blood of my irresponsible father running in my veins. I didn’t understand the correlation between what I told her and what she said. Since I couldn’t get her to defend me, the abuse continued. She also accused me of shutting her womb after I was born; that way, I didn’t let her have other children. She always said the most outrageous things.

Let me throw this in. Dad had a travel opportunity at his office, and he seized the opportunity. He did the unthinkable; he left the country and never looked back. He didn’t try to contact us after he left. Mom was angry. She berated me for being the evil child that chased him away.

With the way she carried on, it wasn’t a surprise she died suddenly from a heart attack. After her funeral, I was shipped off to Enugu State to live with her sister. It was a case of moving from frying pan to fire.

Aunty Cash ran a restaurant in the day timedaytime daytime and a beer parlor at night, so I was up as early as 4 am every day to do my chores before I went to school. I had a stressful routine for a long time until I graduated from secondary school, then I joined her to work full time at the restaurant.

We had randy customers, and Aunty Cash expected me to be excellent. Being nice to them meant they could touch me anyhow and anywhere. A little wonder the restaurant was always buzzing with activities because Aunty Cash would allow any Tom, Dick, and Harry to talk dirty to her, fondle her breasts or smack her bum while she giggled. Being taunted by most male customers wasn’t my only challenge; I was also sexually abused by my Aunt’s husband. He threatened to kill me if I ever said anything to anyone. I felt helpless because I had nowhere to go.

One fine day, a police officer walked into the restaurant. He sat in a corner as he sipped his drink. He noticed how the customers treated me and how I reacted towards them, and he knew that I was irritated, so he politely warned them to leave me alone. I nodded my appreciation, and he smiled back. He stayed an hour after drinking, and we shared a friendly banter. His car had developed a fault nearby, so he came in whilein a while away as it was being fixed.

After that first visit, Inspector Kari became a regular face at the restaurant. He was different from any man I had ever met. After hearing my story, he made it clear that he liked me as a sister and would treat me as such. He was happily married and wasn’t looking for a side chick. Kari was a good friend and a brother, something I had never had before. He blew my mind when he introduced me to his family. What more could I ask for?.

When I thought my life was taking shape, I discovered that I was pregnant. Aunty Cash threw me out when she found out that her husband was responsible for the pregnancy. She concluded that I deliberately got pregnant for him because I knew she couldn’t give him children. Kari was there for me. My guardian angel. He got me a self-contained apartment and was there for me throughout the period of my pregnancy. HE WAS WITH ME when I had my son, whom I named after him.

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News filtered to my Aunt’s husband about the birth of my son, who was no doubt his look-alike, he tried to contact me, but Kari put a restraining order against him.

A few months after my son, I started an online catering business. I had become quite popular within a short time, and I got my first big order to cater for a multinational company at their Annual General Meeting. I called Kari to share the good news with him, and he decided to come over so we could celebrate. My joy was short-lived when Kari hugged me but took it too far and raped me. He cried afterward. He said he didn’t know what came over him. My heart was broken. Men had always taken advantage of me, but I thought Kari was different. One single wrong action was all he pulled to ruin every good thing he had ever done for me.

I felt like a used and damaged good.
I felt cursed. Was there a spell on me that made men want to have me? What did I ever do to deserve this type of life?

It’s been three weeks since the horrible incident. Kari hasn’t been to the house. He sends text messages asking for my forgiveness, but there’s nothing to forgive. I plan to move out of town to a new place where I cantostartst a new life with my son.

Come to think of it; I am not a damaged good like I keep thinking. Every man that has ever taken advantage of me is the damaged one. I choose not to be defined by those monsters. I prefer to rise above all the hurt and raise a son to treat women right.