Piece of the puzzle (Ebun's story)

It always started with a light tap on my shoulders and her whispering in my ear, "Ebun wake up". Her name is Chidinma. Unfortunately, I don't know her surname. 

I was a loud, bright, dramatic and musical four year old girl when Chidinma became my nanny. She dropped me off and picked me up from school with the driver everyday, she followed me to the hairdressers to get my hair done, she followed me on all my holidays. She sat beside me on the plane and she sat opposite me and made sure I finished my breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner everyday. When she left, I was a shy, stammering, insecure, confused and lonely eight year old girl. In hindsight, what she said to me, every other night "Ebun wake up" had a lot of meaning. Ebun wake up from your innocence. Ebun wake up from your childhood. Ebun wake up in to the real world. 

My parents are amazing and I love them but for some reason, I can't remember where they were during those four years of my life.  Chidinma sexually molested me. In all my years of hiding and suppressing those dark years, I can't remember a lot about how she did or what we did but three different times remain in my distant mind like stubborn wine stains on a white piece of cloth, etched in my memory. 

 Photo: www.healinginthehurtingplaces.org

The first one or my now earliest memory, was when she woke me up from my bed one night and took me to the kitchen, then told me to lie on the cold granite floor. I think I was five. The next memory was in another one of our houses. I was playing outside with all my siblings, and she called me into the house. She told me to lie on the grey day bed in the children's parlour. When she was done, I pulled down my dress and went to my aunty's house. I remember praying she'd ask me what was wrong and wondering how she couldn't see something terrible had just happened to me. I think I was six. The last memory I have is the one I started this piece with. I was on my bed one night and she tapped me. I was seven. I pretended to be asleep but when she didn't go, tears rolled down my face and that was the first time I prayed to God from my heart. "God, please I need your help". Of course she didn't leave so after about ten minutes of lying on my bed and wishing I was never born, I rose up and went to her bed. 

Of course as you can probably imagine, she made me promise not to tell anyone, ever. The amazing part was, I remember that after every night she abused me sexually and told me she loved me, the next day, she'd abuse me physically and mentally. She'd hit me several times throughout the day and then insult me about how I looked. I think that was what really messed me up. At school, I was dyslexic and my Nigerian teachers couldn't understand it, so they constantly called me dumb and said that I wasn't trying hard enough, despite the fact that I was doing everything I could. The other children at school bullied me because I was always the one crying in the corner over the words I couldn't get out of my mouth or understand. I stammered, failed at school, everything and anything made me cry and I was taller and skinnier than every other girl in my class. I hated school and I hated my house.

My mother always told all our nannies to never hit anyone of us and the first day she caught Chidinma hitting me, she sacked her. I was eight years old. I went about my life from that day on, happy the worst human being alive had left my life and house but I was a completely scarred person. I often woke up deep in the dead of the night to cry about what had happened and then, I'd comfort myself the next day by telling myself that it was in the past and I should just forget about it. The first woman I ever told about it when I turned seventeen, I told because I felt it was driving me crazy. My greatest fear then, was that Chidinma did the same thing to my sisters and I couldn't live with myself wondering if they were suffering as I was. Thankfully, my sisters had their own nannies and were completely clueless when the counsellor asked them. I failed at school till my seventeenth year. The counsellor was wonderful and prayed with and for me and encouraged me. I told my mother via BBM months after that when I could not sleep late one night. 

Those were the darkest days of my life but now, I am thankful for it. Of course, if I could choose to erase it, I would in a heartbeat. But I can't and it has helped in shaping me into who I am today.

If you don't believe in God, I really feel sorry for you. Not the way religious people say they feel sorry for you, but in a heartbreaking way. How can anyone go through life without believing in God and speaking to him and telling him things you can't tell any other human being? It sounds crazy to me. I would have committed suicide a long time ago, if I didn't have God. I would have run away from my house and into heaven knows what, at age seven, if I didn't believe in God. The truth is, he was with me then. Yes, he was there on those nights that Chidinma tapped on my shoulder and said "Ebun wake up". He was with me when Chidinma left and I thought I was free but really was a complete wreck. He was with me when I had those nightmares as a teenager and woke up crying, scared and angry. I don't know why he let it happen yet but I know he didn't let it destroy me and I thank him for that because now I know it was a piece of my puzzle.

           Photo: sayforward.com

Chidinma whatever-your-surname is, if you ever stumble upon this post in your life, I want you to know two things. First, I forgave you when I was seventeen and secondly, thank you.

That time has a purpose in my life. It happened for a reason. It made me want to know God and be close to him. It built compassion in me towards other human beings. It made me realise I was created for a very special purpose. It makes me appreciate my journey and how far I have come even more. And I still don't know all the reasons why it happened. No matter how bad what has happened or is happening to you may seem, always remember that in the end, it'll be a vital piece of the puzzle that is you. 

Finally, thank you so much Ebun for telling me your story. I hope it touches people as much as it touched me.

With all my love,

Dara Rhodes