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When I was 13, I was living with my aunt in Nigeria. She was kind and took me as her own. Her brother was living with us too. He wasn’t a bad person and was, would I say, my friend, although he was far older than me. One night, my aunt was not home, it was just 2 of us. I was in my room sleeping when he came inside. He started kissing me and touching me, trying to go inside of me. I started pushing him and crying, he was beating me too. He came back late and drunk, I think. I managed to leave the room and lock myself up in the toilet.
He kept on knocking and shouting at me. I was terrified, I was there just praying and asking God to make him leave. After about 2 hours, he slept off. I dared not leave the toilet because I didn’t know what would happen if I did. I was there until daybreak. I didn’t sleep, was tired.
In the morning, I heard him leave. So, I ran inside my room, locked the door, and was waiting for my aunt to come back. I was hungry so I went into the kitchen to get something to eat. He came and asked me not to tell anyone or he would beat me. I was just standing there crying.
But I told myself that I wasn’t going to keep to myself. My aunt came back and I told her. She started crying and took me to stay with her friend while she dealt with her brother. I was scared, what would he do to me? To date, I can’t trust anyone. It made me feel unlucky.
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