Chapter 1

Anabel...my mom yelled.. Yes mom... Your dad's calling you.

Ok ma. I quietly went to my dad's room.

Daddy good evening sir, I greeted but he didn't reply. His face was as squeezed as shit.

Who was that guy that came knocking at the gate... He surprisingly asked me... I started stammering, sweat was coming out of my palms. I was so nervous...

Em.. em.. it's em I was trying to figure out what to say.

Why are you stammering, asked my father and as soon as he said that, he went into his room and brought out a whip popularly known as koboko and started flogging me. He started from my back, to my body as a whole. He flogged me without direction... All the pleas from my mom was futile... Instead of hearing her pleas, he started insulting her. You stupid woman, like mother like daughter, I regret marrying you he said these words passionately and my siblings were also begging.

It all started from secondary school. I was the school nerd and I wasn't sociable. I was so shy and intelligent and girls hated me for that... gosh, see the way she looks... Look at her teeth and her legs omg dats so huge...

I was extremely body shamed. I didn't have any friend until a new boy came to my class.

He was tall fair and had cute dimples... I was the only one in my class that didn't have a seatmate and he had no choice but to sit with me.

People started laughing at me. They were whispering amongst themselves, nerd don get seatmate o.

I felt like the ground should open and swallow me.

He sat down beside me and the girls at the back started gossiping about the new boy. I like him, I heard one of the girls say. He's so handsome, the other said.

He can't look at Anabel, right? Asked the smallest amongst them.

Nah... he wouldn't dare, the group leader, Esther said. And they all giggled.

So girlish.

While these girls were gossiping, the new boy quietly sat on a seat next to mine and started keeping his books inside the locker. We would actually share the same locker.

Hi my name's Mike Obianga. He said to me. I just pretended not to hear him.

I said my name is Mike Obianga,he said again. I just stared at him briefly and continued reading my government note.

He was so confused.

We had our classes as usual and went our separate ways.

At home....

Mum good... before I could finish the afternoon greetings, I saw the wounds on my mum's body and I knew what just happened.

My dad has done it again.

Mum, I said as I sat down close to her. What happened this time, I asked quietly. My mom was just sobbing and sniffing.

Streaks of tears fell freely from my eyes. Nne don't cry my mom consoled me. Within me, I wondered what my dad did to my mom for her to accept the marriage.

I quickly went inside my room because my siblings were sleeping.

I sat down on my bed and bad memories flooded my mind. I remembered a time that my mom came home late because of traffic jam. I was sick and couldn't cook. When my mom came home, my dad opened the door and slapped her. That was her "welcome home honey". I was shocked when I heard that slap. How could a man hate his wife like this I asked within myself.

After that slap, my mom who was extremely tired couldn't help but start crying. On a normal circumstance, a husband seeing his wife cry is supposed to feel sorry for his wife and start consoling her. But he didn't. Instead he started insulting her, calling her all sorts of names including a whore which I took note of to check the word in my dictionary I late found out that it means a prostitute. How dare he say that?. My dad flogged my mom with his belt. The iron side. That changed my perspective towards men. I resolved in my mind that I'll never get married. Instead of getting married, I'll just adopt. Who marriage help, I asked myself. At the thought of that, tears flooded my eyes.

And then I remembered that my new seatmate was a boy. Gosh.

Heartless gender. I lost all appetite for eating and slept.

Tuesday morning....

Nne... Nne get up. My mum kept calling. It felt like a dream and in that dream, my mom was calling me but it wasn't. It was real. It's time to pray.

That was the usual routine at home. My mom will wake up as early as 4:00am and cook morning food for the family. Prepare clothes for my dad and my siblings. Before calling us all to pray. As usual, my dad didn't join us for prayers, instead he listened to radio.

'Mummy please give me two minutes to meditate and I'll be up' I'll say as I roll from one side of the bed to another.

Before I'd know what's happening, she'll start tickling me. I'll start laughing and get up. It was one of this daughter mother moments and I loved it. She'll always wake me up first cos I'll help her wake my siblings. After waking them, we'll pray together and during the prayers, my mom would admonish me and my siblings. After house chores, we'd have our bath and get ready for school.

I'm not sociable so going to school was such a bad news for me.

According to my mom, on my first day of school, she was surprised at my behaviour. I acted normal until she left. Immediately she left, I started crying.

Where did you people keep my mummy. I wailed. When my mom tells me those stories, I can't help but laugh.

I'd laugh weirdly.

Back to reality.....

Walking to school was somewhat boring. I hated coming to school early because I'll have to clean the class room and the pavement. So so boring and stressful and the dirt will dirty my ironed school uniform...

Immediately I entered my class, I saw my bullies in front of my class room door. Why are these people this early, I asked myself inwardly. I know that the so called pepper dem gang can't come to school this early. They were always late. Trying to make an entrance for themselves or trying to be the center of attraction. I waved those thinking and came up with the conclusion that people do change.

I tried entering the class, but the head bully stopped me. She stood up and looked at me from head to toe and said to me ' you don't stand a chance ' immediately she said that, she gave way for me and I quickly went to my sit.

After all the settling down, it was time for our first class and it was English and my new seatmate was really good at English.

Abeg who English help. I asked myself.

Your really good at English, Mike sacarstically said. I just kept quiet and did as if I didn't hear him.

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