When No One Cares : A Rhapsody of The Abused Children

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Long after slavery was abolished on the African soil, Africa still enslaves her own even on her own soil.

It was the eve of Christmas 1999, after dinner with the whole family, mum had prepared a pretty delicious Pre - xmas meal that left us bloated that walking or breathing became quite tedious , we were ruminating on what the following day would look like in our newly purchased xmas wears, when a sudden knock came on the wooden door that had begun to lose efficiency due to age and over use, the building was said to be twenty one years old as at then.

When we got to the door, what a pleasant surprise it was, as Uncle David just arrived from Abuja for the Xmas holiday.

He was mom's immediate elder brother Who stayed in Abuja, he just arrived from Abuja that evening to celebrate with us in the spirit of the season, we were so excited to have him because he was one of those relatives who came once after a long time, due to the distance and nature of his job, (a civil servant) he came home only in periods of festivity like Christmas or new year. Although I never knew he had a different reason for coming this time around, we were all happy that he was with us, at least bad as e bad, he will drop us small money for Christmas.

The night was a long one, as sleep was far from everyone, we chatted and laughed boisterously late into the night, mom was in a serious discussion with Uncle, I tried eavesdropping but they were quite inaudible, but whatever they were talking about, from the looks on their faces, one could tell something serious was cooking, but no one really cared, sleep finally won, as we slept much later in the night.

"Akan, you will be going back with uncle to Abuja"...
Mom thundered...

I didn't allow that land, I was already running out of the room in joy, "me? follow uncle to Abuja? " it must have been a dream I thought to myself. I was happier than all the angels of the skies, I used to hear of such big cities, never did I think I could be there, at least not in such a short notice.

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The trip to Abuja started very early on 28th December, in my uncle's rickety 505 saloon car, we had already hit the roads long before dawn, it was a dry travel, I began to feel the pangs of hunger when we got to Abia state, that was nothing really compared to what was ahead of me at my soon to be new abode - Abuja, we arrived Abuja that evening, at about few minutes to 9pm, my tired legs were weary, my tongue desirous of water as the lover desires the beloved, my stomach was singing songs only the worms in there could understand, famished was the word for me that night, but I was to be in for a shocker.

After the cold reception I got from my new mistress, my uncle's wife, a fair, beautiful woman in her early thirties who looked too harmless to be harmful, too loving to be wicked and too innocent to be guilty, I was showed the way to the bathroom, after which I waited till eternity for dinner, yes dinner that never came, at the end I had to sleep with the last biscuit and water that remained of my journey from Uyo. The excitement of coming to Abuja died on arrival, like the fast events of that evening murdered my happiness, but hell was yet to break loose.

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I began the following day as a servant, victim of circumstance in uncle's house, like never knew they had no plans whatsoever to send me through school it was a grand shocker, for five years I was with him, I was taught to trek miles to market from where we lived (Apo village, Garki Abuja to Gwagwalada), I was abused, molested, victimized and insulted by my very uncle, not a stranger, I became a walking skeleton in the years that ensued, bread and water became my regular delicacy for a long time, even when everyone else was eating good food...

I was denied education for three years, a right every child my age had, I suffered depression, mood swings, bitterness, hatred for people, and disaffection towards society. Each time mom visited, I was given new clothes and food until one day, on one of such visits, I broke down in tears, I began to brief mom on all I went through in uncle's house, for I could take it no more, mom was so angry that we didn't spend one more day in Abuja, that was enough she said!

It took me months to get myself back in good health, I needed to be alive, alive to tell the tale of child abuse and molestation, Child labour and servitude, I was free at last, free to become what every other child aspired to become, free from the wimps of abuse, neglect and negligence...

SOURCE

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FOOT NOTE
I write this with a heart very heavy, One that tries to pontificate the silent cries of children the world over, especially in Africa and Nigeria. I decided not to use an alien story, but that which is familiar to me, my own story of abuse in my own relative's house. That's why we should be careful who we commit our children to, no one will care for them like the parents, even if you are feeding once a day, never give out your children as child servants, you could lose them in the process. I had long forgiven Uncle David, but the scars had already been created in my young heart. You may never appreciate what this means until you have had such experiences, trust me, it's an experience I wish not for my enemies.

Myself after the abusive years and now

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Say NO to Child Abuse!!!