When I was six years old, I was called a good girl by everyone. As little as I was, I used to run errands a lot. No matter how far it was, if you sent me I would go. One day this family relative called one of my cousins to send her on an errand. Unlike me, my cousin was lazy. She frowned at our uncle and said, “I am playing. I won’t go.” I did what my parents taught me. I offered to run the errand in place of my cousin.

When I returned with the items, the man asked me to send them to his room. I didn’t know anything. Even if I did, he was someone I was told I could trust. I went to his room and this man followed me inside. The next thing I knew, he was locking the door. I stood there gazing at him while he told me to remove my clothes.

I was an outspoken child so I asked him, “Why should I remove my clothes? Are we going to bath?” His voice took a stern tone as he said, “Shhh! Just do as I asked. I want to teach you something.” As ignorant and naïve as I was, I removed my clothes. It didn’t end there. He also took off his. He then asked me to lie on his bed. I did.

I was scared but he asked me not to make any sound so I was as quiet as a graveyard. He was huge but that did not stop him from laying on me. I had nothing by then. There was no flesh on my chest. My backside was equally as dry as that of a child’s. Because I was just a child. Yet this man was touching me anyhow and bouncing his body on and off me. The only comfort is that he did not enter me.

After he was done with his sick and gross activity, he made me put on my clothes. He asked me not to tell anyone about it. He made me promise. I did and he let me go. I didn’t even know what to say even if I wanted to tell someone. I didn’t understand what exactly it was that he did. So I held on to this awful secret until I grew up.

It was when I started growing up and learning about sex that I understood what he did. I became angry. I wished I would tell my mother but knowing how she would react, I couldn’t. I was scared she would do something that would put her in trouble with the law.

I continued to keep this heavy secret with me every day. I acted as if I was fine but anytime I saw that man, I felt great hatred for him. The only thing I kept saying to comfort myself was, “One day I will be a lawyer. So that I can make him pay for what he did to me when I was a child.” This hope has kept me going even when things got rough.

READ ALSO: We Have Done It Less Than Hundred Times Since We Got Married

Now, I’m in my third year at the university. I was so happy that I was on my journey to become a lawyer. “Soon, this disgusting man will pay for what he did to me when I was just a child,” I often told myself. When soon came, this man died.

What pains me most is that my parents contributed a lot of money to his funeral. He died without paying for his sins against me. And I am here, still suffering from that experience every day. I am afraid of boys. I panic when they touch me. I haven’t had any sexual intercourse before because I can’t bring myself to welcome the touch of someone I even like.

What Would You Do For A Friend Who Has 24 Hours To Live?

I’m still scared. I am finding it difficult to tell anyone close to me how I feel. And the fact that my parents contributed a lot to his funeral is making things worse for me. How can I forget what he did and find a way to heal? How can I move on and forget about the hatred I have for this man? He is dead and so is my quest for justice. I don’t know how to free myself from his shackles. Please, I need help!

–Nylah

Do you have any relationship experience to share? Please email it to [email protected]

NOTE: NO PART OF THIS CONTENT CAN BE REPUBLISHED OR REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT THE EXPLICIT CONSENT OF THE EDITORS OF THIS BLOG

#SB