The Pregnant Belong To My Father Episode 4 And 5
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🧏 The Pregnant Belong To My Father Episode Four And Five:
Mum was promoted to the position of a Branch Manager and was transferred to Ibadan to head a new branch. This was what she had worked for all these years. Becoming a Branch Manager was her utmost dream for many years. Mum was so happy with her new position but the transfer did not go well with dad and all of us. She never gave dad opportunity to protest her transfer when she started making out her plans. Within two weeks, mum had contacted an agent in Ibadan through a colleague who got her a two bedroom flat in the outskirts of Ibadan. When mum left for Ibadan I knew it was a journey to marital desolation for dad.
“I don’t want to say anything because you may think I don’t want your progress but leaving your family at this time is not healthy”, my dad protested. “So what should I have done? Resign the job or reject the offer? The position I have laboured for all through the years? This is God’s open door and I can’t afford to throw it away. Instead of you to rejoice with me, you are here talking about family. All our children are all grown and Nike can take care of her sisters well.
I will always come home for weekend.” My mum replied as she ordered Faith and Christy to move her things into the waiting van outside. We are surely not going to miss mum because her temporary exit from the house will give us a level of freedom and peace. We will be free from her nagging and troubles.
That night mum left for Ibadan, my dad came into my room like the other time. From his eyes you could see lust and determination to get what he wanted.
“Please daddy, don’t do this to me. I thought you said you love me? Why will you be the one to take away my virginity? Please daddy! Please daddy!! Please daddy!!!” All my begging fell on deaf ears as my dad forced himself into me. It was really painful going through this evil act. He left my room without saying a word to me after he stole my virginity. My love for my dad disappeared like a vapour. My love for him turned to hatred immediately. My loving dad became a rapist, the man I trusted all my life became a beast and a terror. My tears was thick and I could hear the loud sound they made when they dropped to the ground.
Three hours later, he came knocking at my door. His voice that was once a balm to my soul suddenly turned to a terrific sound.
The fear that griped me when I heard his voice behind the door was frightening. “I am sorry Nike, I am sure you know daddy loves you. Please open the door, I have a surprise for you.” If I had a knife in my room that day, I would have committed murder. I would stab him and stab myself. I sobbed bitterly all through the night. I didn’t come out for three days even when my sisters came knocking. I could see the worries on my sisters and I didn’t want them to do anything stupid, so I opened the door on the third day.
Who would you blame, my dad or my mum? The nightmare of what my dad did to me began to trail me. My sisters tried all they could to find out what happened to me but how can I tell my sisters my father took my virginity by force? It is sacrilege and abomination in Yoruba land for a father to have canal knowledge of his own biological daughter. I knew what his act will cost the family but I can’t talk to anybody about it. I can’t manage the shame and mockery. The thought to poison my dad began to find its way into my mind. I will kill him and free myself of the trauma of his presence.
What else should I have done?
Mum could not fulfil her promise to come home every weekend. Some months, she only came once and sometimes twice. I became hostile in the house and everyone knew something was wrong but no one among my sisters was matured enough to investigate further.
I perfected my plans to poison my dad but that was not easy. On two occasions, I had planned to put the poison in his food but I will discard it again. Seeing him got me irritated. I wished he could die of accident or one mysterious thing but none of these happened.
For three months, I rarely talk to my dad even though we lived under the same roof with me. All the time mum visited, she never suspected anything because I put up pretentious attitudes that looked like all was well. I will enter my shell again as soon as she returns back to Ibadan.
My dad became depressed because of the happenings around. Nike that used to be his close friend became his arch enemy. My sisters started withdrawing from him because they saw me withdrew too. My dad became an addicted drunkard. He started going to club houses just to suppress his depression. I pitied him and talk to him casually. Life returned back to him and he began to pick up again. But our relationship had gone sour. He was buying me different gifts just to pacify me but all that was nothing. My desire to take his life got stronger by the day. I was loosing concentration in school because of what my dad did to me.
On Sunday, our pastor gave a powerful sermon on “forgiveness”. He highlighted seven reasons why forgiveness will do you good than whom you are forgiving. The sermon was so touching that I had no option than to drop my murderous plan. Pastor made an altar call for those who need grace to forgive those who had hurt them. I jumped out and he prayed for us. The prayer was like lifting a heavy rock off my chest. I became light and free. I wish I could die that moment and just go to heaven straight to rest from the trouble of this world. I got home that day and prepared my dad’s favourite food just to communicate my forgiveness to him. Nike, I am grateful you have forgiven me; he held my hand as I served him his food to whisper to my ear.
On Monday, my dad bought me a big phone he ordered from the UK. He knew how much I desired to own a phone but mum will not allow him buy me one. This girl is too young to own a phone, mum had warned dad several times. If you buy her a phone I will smash it on the floor, mum threatened. She insisted none of us will own a phone until we are eighteen. But all my friends in school have phones yet they concentrated on their studies. It was never a distraction like mum painted. I loved the phone dad bought for me because all my friends in school who had intimidated me with theirs began to respect me when they saw mine.
I was enjoying my phone for three months and mum didn’t know I own a phone. When she’s around I put it off, remove the battery and hide it all through until she had gone.
As I was gaining my dad’s confidence, he struck again. This time he drugged me and raped me. In my sleep I had a dream a man came and force himself into me. He beat me up after he raped me and warned me never to tell anybody again or else he will kill me with his machete. In the dream, I cried in pain until I woke up and noticed the pain all over my body. I couldn’t lift my hands nor legs. My dad did it AGAIN.
TO Be Continued
