Hey YOU amazing reader of mine, Yes YOU. This is for your reading pleasure.
This experience is a true life one that happened to ME when I was very young, say between age 3-5 or there about. How I can possibly remember what happened at that very young age, I Honestly Do Not Know. Maybe because it is one of the stories often told to family friends by my parents or I just have an exceptional retentive memory but here is my story so relax and Enjoy.
It was the long break holiday also known as summer holiday of schools usually in August and parts of September for children, to ensure you have ample rest and mental preparation for the resumption to a higher class or the same class if one performed woefully throughout the school year. It was on a week day, my three siblings had gone to school for summer coaching and my Mum and Dad had gone to their various places of work. So I was home alone with the maid called Aunty Hafusa.
This was in the mid 90’s and at this time, my area of residence was still very underdeveloped, virgin land filled with bushes spanning around my compound separated by a very short fence, generator, zinc for washing dishes and flat screen TV were considered luxuries for the creme de la creme of the society or so my parents made us believe. So when I did not have any of my siblings at home to play with, I would find ways to keep myself company such as acting and transitioning between various characters seamlessly, replicating what I saw cooked in the kitchen with stones, grass and sand *lol*, picking snails on rainy days etc as there were no kids within my age group at that time and I had to entertain my young and curious mind.
On this fateful weekday, my chubby chocolate skin innocent self was keeping herself company as usual while aunty hafusa was doing the dishes in the compound. She finished washing a huge pile and ordered me to take the dishes inside the house and I obliged but the dish pile was too high and heavy for my then short and clumsy frame and most of the dishes fell. I took them back to aunty hafusa and she re-washed the dishes, piled it higher with freshly washed dishes and sent me on my way. Sadly, the dishes came toppling down again *Sighs*
I took the dishes back to aunty hafusa and I guess the demon in her was unleashed. She yelled at me to go on my knees and raise both hands high above my head while she frantically went in search of a cassava stick to flog me and teach me a lesson. Trepidation filled me and I was almost wetting my self already while waiting for doomsday to descend on me. So aunty hafusa marches in gasping and fuming with rage, takes off my dress and gave me the flogging of my life. I was crying, screaming, pleading for her to stop, promising never to allow plates drop again, crossing my heart, hoping to die and the torture lasted for at least fifteen minutes while she screamed profanities at me.
After making an architectural masterpiece on my back and derriere, she stops, yanks me up from my kneeling position and warns me sternly with blazing eyes that if I dared to tell any one or even conceive it in my heart to tell any one, she will know *yeah right, houdini’s cousin* and give me another intense flogging when both of us were home alone. I hurriedly nodded in agreement while my young body still racked with sobs.
So did I tell anyone? did I still endure this physical abuse for years, did she get caught by my parents or siblings? I will fill you in when next I post.
Thank YOU so much for reading and please do not hesitate to like, share, comment, subscribe. xoxoxo.