Barely two months ago, we celebrated nationwide, Children’s Day. We witnessed a range of march pasts by excited kids who would one day look back and wonder at the degree of naiveté that’s locked in those budding years.
I have dared lately, to peek into the past of a good number of my female friends and colleagues. I’m amazed- stiflingly shocked precisely- at the number of them who confess how this childhood innocence was quickly eroded.
It slipped their grip before they knew how to spell innocence.
What becomes so disturbing is the relationship with the thieves who robbed them of this childhood gift. As you might have rightly guessed, they span from uncles, elder cousins to neighbors and dead shockingly, fathers. Yes, fathers and I mean biologic, step, surrogate and stupid fathers.
It would haunt me with guilt, for years on end to excuse the cousins and neighbors and uncles but allow me to panel beat the issue of fathers in a few lines.
The reason why even at thirty years of age, some of our parents want to make some decisions on our behalf, is not only because they would forever feel wiser but also because, they can’t stop seeing us as the “little Sandra” who pooped everywhere, just ‘yesterday’. They still behold us for a very long time through the tiny inlets of our cradles. We are kids. Regardless of age!
When and why do these fathers cease to see us from those standpoints? When do these men of heartless thoracics begin to think that our innocence is ripe enough to be reaped? Could it be when our breasts start looking less like budding flesh and more of a man’s toy? Or maybe it is when our thighs let out glows that might blind them if they don’t quickly cover it with their ravaging hands. Most probably, it would be just when, the devil finds out suddenly how convenient their minds are as a habitat. They claim this all the time, don’t they?
My heart is weighty with myriad of questions. Questions that have over time being answered with statements that escape reason by miles. What excuse on earth could make a father nurse erotic feelings for his own daughter? What excuse except well suppressed insanity. Conscience in hibernation!
From the sexual advances at his own daughter to the well advanced absurdity of taking a teenager’s (and sometimes, preteen’s) undies off, for provoking levels of incest, I truly wonder what surges through the mind of these very young victims. As they wrestle their bodies and innocence from the abattoir of his shameless testosterone, I wonder what thoughts blaze the trail.
We can’t always blame the child now victim, for choosing silence over a whisper. She has tall odds against her. Perhaps a mindless career mother, who cares more for promotion than parenting, plus a father who has threatened the victim to remain silent. “Spill a word and I will spill your blood” he has assured her. She-a very young heart- houses cancerous secrets as a result.
Pardon my anger…I’m seeing too many victims on the streets, too many scars on childhood tales and some emotional wounds that still gape after decades of the deliberate infliction.
I wish this would get across to these predators of men. To these fathers, uncles, cousins, neighbors and so-called friends who cannot tell breast from beads. Alas, I wish in vain! If the screams and tears of these children cannot squash your hormonal misdirection, my writing will readily pass for wasted ink on cheap paper.
However, I speak to mothers, aunties, and every vigilant heart out there. I plead that you look out for bubbling juvenile hearts who all of a sudden prefer cold caves to the warmth of sitting rooms. Please persistently inquire from these children, why they have scars in the oddest places. Comfort them with endearing friendship and before long, these men of will be dragged out from secrecy into jails for what I hope would be their “annual rapist reunion”.
