We started when we were very young. My sister had returned from senior high school, and I was about to write the BECE. We shared a room with our younger brother, who was then in Class Six. Deep in the night, my sister started it. I was innocent, but I knew what she wanted. We spoke in whispers. She said she’d learned in school that it was a good thing, so she wanted to try it. I was concerned about our brother waking up to see us, but she told me, “We will do it quietly.”

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

And quietly, it happened. From there, it happened often—not only at night but in the afternoon when everyone was away. We got bold. We experimented with new ways and new places. I must admit, I was having the time of my life.

It stopped when she went back to school, and we resumed whenever she came home. I also completed junior high and went to SHS. We continued doing it every time we came home for vacation.

When my sister was in her final year, she got pregnant. She wasn’t clear about whether or not I was responsible. She told me, “I’m pregnant, but don’t be scared. I’ve spoken to my friend already.”

The next vacation, she told me it was no longer there because her friend helped her get rid of it. By then, I was becoming aware of the implications of what was happening between us—the taboo part and the repercussions. My sister didn’t care. All she cared about was me in her.

I don’t remember very clearly when it stopped. Maybe growth. Maybe distance. My sister went to the university and wasn’t coming home as often as she used to. It could also be that she had a boyfriend and decided to let me go. I wasn’t the one asking for it, so when she stopped giving it to me, it ended.

We are old now. My sister has been married for the past six years but has no child. I got married two years ago, but I’m already seeing the symptoms of the difficulty ahead in terms of having a child. We’ve been intentional. We’ve waited for the right time for her to conceive and tried. We’ve had fertility medications, but currently, nothing is happening for me and my wife. We tell ourselves it’s too early to be worried, but I am.

It’s through this struggle that the memories of our past sins have resurfaced. It’s not easy to call my sister and discuss this with her. She doesn’t even talk to me like we used to. I wish to ask her if she’s ever thought about it and feels that could be the reason, but that girl is too tough. She seems not to care. She calls it a choice and says she can’t force herself to give birth.

You Broke Me Into Pieces: A Daughter’s Emotional Conversation With Her Father

I’m concerned—scared, actually. I don’t know who to speak to or what I can do to purge myself if indeed our situation is a result of what we did in the past. It’s too heavy. I can’t even think of discussing it with my wife or anyone, close or far. So it’s in my head. It has taken root. When I dream, I dream about it. When I’m awake at night, it’s what keeps me awake. When I lose my appetite, it’s the reason. Where do I go to find salvation, or is this just a false alarm?

—Philippa

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at submissions@silentbeads.com. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.

******