When I got pregnant the first time, she took me to the place I aborted the baby. My father didn't know that I was pregnant, and none of my siblings knew. When I got pregnant the second time, she took me to the same place to abort the baby. Though, the doctor was quack, she was concerned to know why a mother would bring her daughter to abort two babies in less than one year. She wanted to know about the fathers and she did warn that another abortion may cost me, my life.
We don't talk about these things. Every body is more concerned about protecting the name of the family. My mother would say, 'Pray, God would make your father stop doing this to you, he was never like this, he's good man, he doesn't know what he's doing, pray, he would stop. But don't you dare tell anyone, it would ruin the family's reputation and good name. It would hurt us, and I would no longer be the church women leader and your father would no longer be the chairman of the church planning committee. Dear, you would have to pray to God to help you and that's all that you can do.'
Five months later, I was pregnant again, the doctor refused to abort it. She said she can't risk it. She was so concerned. She wanted to talk to me privately, but my mother never allowed it. My mother really wanted me to abort the baby, she wanted to save her name and her family's reputation. She assured that God would not allow evil befall me or her family. I was so scared. I feared that I would die. I didn't want to die. I had plans for my future. I wanted to be able to speak for those who would go through what I was going through, I would have fared better, had I a voice. I didn't want to die, I was so scared of doing the next abortion.
I was so scarced, I could no longer concentrate. I didn't know what I told people when I talked to them. Everything about me expressed the fear. And that was when my best friend, Odera confronted me, and sought that I tell her what bothered me. She was the only one who was disturbed so much to ask. It was tough for me, but I bared my heart to her crying all the tears that I have held inside for long. Then, she gave me that advice that I took.
Four years gone, I have never heard from my father, nor my mother, and not from any of my siblings. Here I am, at twenty, a struggling single mother, toughly pursuing my dreams, hoping to one day be a voice to those sexually abused, especially by their father.