We have been calling for (rape) stories that express courage, strength and bravery. We have had many survivors share their story (read some HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE), this is one from Aduke. Enjoy the read.
This is my story….it’s not a movie... it’s not a script… it’s my reality... it’s my story. I was 8years old... Yes 8years…I’m 32years old now but 24 years would always seem like yesterday when I was deprived of being a child… I want to be a child, crave for it but I’ve lost it forever.
I remember it vividly... My elder brother Emeka had returned from school, he was in the university, we were all excited and happy. We had all gone to the boy’s quarters to stay and greet him… he bought kwili kwili and other northern varieties not common in the east where we lived.
My sisters where there and uncle Obi was there too. Uncle Obi had come from the village not too long ago to live with us he was about 25years old. The same age with my eldest brother. He used to call me his small wife and I would giggle and we would all laugh… I was too small to be his wife but he always would buy me sweets and chewing gum and other things for school. My dad used to give us all those nice things too, so it was no big deal for me.
