WHY ARE WE STILL HERE?

A  glimpse of the stories of the girls I work with daily.

WHY ARE WE STILL HERE?

It’s eternity now, since it started,

Am close to growing immune now,

Doesn’t even catch me by surprise now,

And of course, not worth explaining it,

But I’ll do, got to let the cat out of the bag; somebody has got to know it now.

The woman who carried me first didn’t want me,

She called me accidental,

She said I was unplanned,

The man who was supposed to protect me said

“Just get rid of it”

Like a used and worn out cloth-

I was never human to him,

It has not changed even now.

In fear of digging her own grave, she decided to keep me,

With her eyes closed I came out

No sobs, no laughter, no hug, no kiss

From a woman who had carried me for 9 months.

Like a sick chick that would spread the disease to the rest

She said “Take it away”

I‘ve never known her since then

My new mama longed for me like a deer pants for water,

But my papa? Not really

Papa loathed mama too,

That’s why like an unleashed dog he was never home

How I abhorred the sound of his voice,

His footsteps, the smell in his breath.

My strong papa,

Strength I only saw when he hit my mama.

The fighter in me always wanted to fight back,

Fight in defense of my mama,

But was always too small to fight, walk or talk,

I could cry, so I cried. No I wailed,

And mama soothed me and quitened my soul, like a weaned child with its MAMA, she would ask me,

“What is wrong?

With a silent mouth, my mind would go, “mama, can‘t you see am crying for you?

Mama would pack up our bags and leave,

But every time, somebody would send her back,

Leaving was the highlight of my life,

And people, “why send my mama back to the deathly hallows?”

Me and mama,

She toiled hard, wept bad,

Smiled nice, rocked me right,

Held me tight, and promised to never let me go,

Papa was present yet absent, so close but so far away,

It was me and mama,

Mama persevered and I grew.

Midnight, nightmares again,

A hand on me, stinky breath,

Suffocaaaating, open my eyes, “hie daddy”

First time he had come to kiss me goodnight,

The smell, the look, the grasp,

“You are scaring me papa”

“Am not your papa” he hissed, “and don’t dare shout, just let me do what am here for quietly, or you will be thrown into the streets”

Caught my sob, kept it inside,

My finishing line,

“Papa you are hurting me.”

My soul longed for morning like watchmen do,

The pain, the anger, the hatred,

Uncertain of papa’s actions,

Yet no denying it hurt, I bled,

How could papa decide to wrestle with me?

He knew I was as weak as a boneless chicken, He knew it would hurt

He wanted to hurt me same way he hurt mama,

He hated me, just like he hated mama.

“Don’t tell your mother, or anyone, this is our little secret.”

Slammed the door behind him and I heard a

“Did you really just do that James?...sob, sob, sob

You have killed me.”

Thank heavens mama had seen him hurt me

“But mama, why didn’t you stop him?

Why are we still here?

He is hurting both of us mama,

Why are we still here?

I am 14, 7 years it’s been happening and we are still here, why?”