https://musewitme.com/ada

ADA by Chikadibia
PAINS

She was not sure exactly what they meant when they promised her a better life and the good things of the city. But Ada knew the situation she endured was not exactly what she nor her parents, anticipated when they let her go with Uncle Francis and his wife to the City.

She adapted quickly to her reality, washing heaps of clothes everyday. The despicable oddity of washing her Uncle’s Boxer Shorts and his wife’s blood stained underwears, seldom terrified her anymore.

The better life earlier promised her, turned out to be a pleasant pseudonym for ‘full time house help’.

Ada was the only daughter of her parents. She called her Uncle and his wife, ‘Daddy and Mummy’. Her Mother told her that her aunt and uncle, would be her new parents in the city. “They will feed you, clothe you, provide for you and care for you. They will love, guide and protect you just like your father and I. Don’t worry my daughter, they’re your parents now, Obey them in everything. And call your uncle, Daddy and your aunt, will be your Mummy. Ada Nna, Inugo?”

It felt like ages ago, when Mother tried so hard to hide her emotions behind long admonitions before she bade her goodbye.

Ada never believed anyone could treat her like her parents, much less become her ‘new parents’ as mother had put it. She had hoped to be proved wrong by uncle Francis and his wife. Then again, she took all the promise of ‘a home away from home’, with a pinch of salt. It helped her swallow the bitter pill of manual and debasing labor forced down her throat by her ‘new parents’. She looked forward to her secondary education in the city, but she knew well by then, that her uncle had no plans for that. Yet, the realisation that she won’t be seeing the four walls of a classroom soon or perhaps ever again, hurt her deeply whenever she had any free time to let her mind wander. She really hoped to “go to school and make her Mama proud.”


The searing pain around her waist and the pounding headache that had plagued her for almost a week, would not let her dwell on her sorrows, in peace. As she slowly hurled her tired frame to her room, ten year old Ada, secretly wished she could turn back the hands of time. She wished to be back in the village savoring a hot plate of roasted Yam and palm oil spiced with a mother’s love by the open fireside under the moon.

She wondered how fast time went by and changed only the good things. On the bright side, she mused, “I have a whole room to myself here.” “Good things of the city!” she shrugged, with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.


“Ada! Hope you’ve had your bath this evening!?”
From the sitting room uncle Francis’ coarse voice jolted her out of her reverie.
“Yes, Daddy!”

“Good. I don’t want you smelling around my house.”
His sudden interest in her hygiene was strange at first but it amused Ada.

Maybe because she stank like a pig, Uncle Francis didn’t want to unleash her on school children. That must be why she was locked up all day like a hedious foul smelling beast, washing and scrubbing away her odorous existence with each underwear, boxer short, dirty floor and plate she washed.

She had caught some scenes of the fairy tales on TV; Princess Rapunzel, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast. But she was no fool, there was no Prince Charming searching for her.

Still, wondering why or if she smelled so bad, bad enough, to force her uncle to take interest in her personal hygiene and concorting theories and stories based on her distortion of the fairytales she saw on TV was easily the most captivating escape from her reality that her young mind had conjured yet.


“Ooooh God!” she exclaimed.
She picked up her bed sheet. She had forgotten to wash it during the day. She did not relish the thought of using the sheet that night, not with the strange smear on it. It had dried in and left a visible, distinct and irregular shape on the sheet.
It looked like candle wax or Pap smear. She had woken up in the morning, feeling strange aches and sensations around her pelvis. As If that wasn’t strange enough, she noticed the semi viscous fluid, on the sheet. It had become a routine occurrence.

She could still recall vividly, the first time she noticed it about a week ago. It was fresh in her memory because it was the first time uncle Francis barged into her room nagging her to bathe before bed. She was not clothed. She was about to tie her favorite night wear; a wrapper.

It was then uncle Francis walked in without knocking. Ada chuckled, as she recalled the embarrassment she felt in that moment. Uncle Francis fixed his gaze upon her young frame. His eyes darted from north to south of her body.

ADA by Chikadibia
PAINS

She was not sure exactly what they meant when they promised her a better life and the good things of the city. But Ada knew the situation she endured was not exactly what she nor her parents, anticipated when they let her go with Uncle Francis and his wife to the City.

She adapted quickly to her reality, washing heaps of clothes everyday. The despicable oddity of washing her Uncle’s Boxer Shorts and his wife’s blood stained underwears, seldom terrified her anymore.

The better life earlier promised her, turned out to be a pleasant pseudonym for ‘full time house help’.

Ada was the only daughter of her parents. She called her Uncle and his wife, ‘Daddy and Mummy’. Her Mother told her that her aunt and uncle, would be her new parents in the city. “They will feed you, clothe you, provide for you and care for you. They will love, guide and protect you just like your father and I. Don’t worry my daughter, they’re your parents now, Obey them in everything. And call your uncle, Daddy and your aunt, will be your Mummy. Ada Nna, Inugo?”

It felt like ages ago, when Mother tried so hard to hide her emotions behind long admonitions before she bade her goodbye.

Ada never believed anyone could treat her like her parents, much less become her ‘new parents’ as mother had put it. She had hoped to be proved wrong by uncle Francis and his wife. Then again, she took all the promise of ‘a home away from home’, with a pinch of salt. It helped her swallow the bitter pill of manual and debasing labor forced down her throat by her ‘new parents’. She looked forward to her secondary education in the city, but she knew well by then, that her uncle had no plans for that. Yet, the realisation that she won’t be seeing the four walls of a classroom soon or perhaps ever again, hurt her deeply whenever she had any free time to let her mind wander. She really hoped to “go to school and make her Mama proud.”


The searing pain around her waist and the pounding headache that had plagued her for almost a week, would not let her dwell on her sorrows, in peace. As she slowly hurled her tired frame to her room, ten year old Ada, secretly wished she could turn back the hands of time. She wished to be back in the village savoring a hot plate of roasted Yam and palm oil spiced with a mother’s love by the open fireside under the moon.

She wondered how fast time went by and changed only the good things. On the bright side, she mused, “I have a whole room to myself here.” “Good things of the city!” she shrugged, with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.


“Ada! Hope you’ve had your bath this evening!?”
From the sitting room uncle Francis’ coarse voice jolted her out of her reverie.
“Yes, Daddy!”

“Good. I don’t want you smelling around my house.”
His sudden interest in her hygiene was strange at first but it amused Ada.

Maybe because she stank like a pig, Uncle Francis didn’t want to unleash her on school children. That must be why she was locked up all day like a hedious foul smelling beast, washing and scrubbing away her odorous existence with each underwear, boxer short, dirty floor and plate she washed.

She had caught some scenes of the fairy tales on TV; Princess Rapunzel, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast. But she was no fool, there was no Prince Charming searching for her.

Still, wondering why or if she smelled so bad, bad enough, to force her uncle to take interest in her personal hygiene and concorting theories and stories based on her distortion of the fairytales she saw on TV was easily the most captivating escape from her reality that her young mind had conjured yet.


“Ooooh God!” she exclaimed.
She picked up her bed sheet. She had forgotten to wash it during the day. She did not relish the thought of using the sheet that night, not with the strange smear on it. It had dried in and left a visible, distinct and irregular shape on the sheet.
It looked like candle wax or Pap smear. She had woken up in the morning, feeling strange aches and sensations around her pelvis. As If that wasn’t strange enough, she noticed the semi viscous fluid, on the sheet. It had become a routine occurrence.

She could still recall vividly, the first time she noticed it about a week ago. It was fresh in her memory because it was the first time uncle Francis barged into her room nagging her to bathe before bed. She was not clothed. She was about to tie her favorite night wear; a wrapper.

It was then uncle Francis walked in without knocking. Ada chuckled, as she recalled the embarrassment she felt in that moment. Uncle Francis fixed his gaze upon her young frame. His eyes darted from north to south of her body.

Alex was a strange creature. I had seen white people on the television but she was the first I met and touched. Her nuances were strange and her body language was just wrong. She was doing things to the left and often mother beat me to stop using left because it was only an ofeke - a fool- who did things with the left hand. She did not keep any toys and I never liked to share my toys, heck, I never shared before, but she had a pet duck with 7 ducklings. The ducklings we're golden yellow and the duck was a strong mother. I knew it because she only let Alex close to she and her ducklings and when she walked, the ducklings followed behind her in a single file. I was fascinated. I shared my toys and Alex let me play with her pets. I had the time of my life and wished Alex would not go by the end of December. She promised to come back and I promised to wait for her, no matter how long it took. Afterall, we had time on our side, we were just 3. I never saw her again.
I assumed that having a brother would be as enjoyable as Alex's company, but I was wrong. Mother stopped caring for me as soon as her Tommy began to get bigger. Instead of making me breakfast on time, she would spend the morning vomiting in the bathroom, leaving me to the untrained hands of her husband. She made more demands than I, frankly sometimes I almost wanted to shush her, I mean she was being a baby the whole nine months and stealing the attention from the real baby, me.
I was happy when I walked into the hospital ward in my dad's arms and found that mother no longer had a big Tommy - maybe she'd start acting like an adult again- but then, I never expect the baby to be my new competition.
The whole house smells funny and I can't even be fully rocked to bed at night because the baby always needs them. I have become desolate and lonely this time. My toy cars no longer cheered me, I wish Alex was here.
When my father walks in with bags bearing gifts now, I don't run after him with expectations any more, I know what he's always carrying, baby cereals and baby toys. I don't know how long I can take this, I must speak with that baby. Maybe make him a deal, I mean if he's my brother, he had better start acting like it. No brother would want their brother to be miserable, though I didn't know anyone else who had a brother besides me, perhaps I may be wrong, maybe brothers frustrate each other usually. I waited for a moment alone with him.

http://cobiezcourt..com/2017/04/Enchanted.html

I'd ransack my self, check all my hidden pockets for change. Then money had some value, even though we thought it didn't (if only we saw how bad things would be now). I'd manage to gather ten Naira notes and twenty Naira notes's from my school money and from mother's bag that she wouldn't even notice.

I would run to the 'girl wey dey sell card' in the street. I'd purchase hundred naira card, it was important. Even though the hundred Naira credit from last night was still in my phone. But this one was important, because I'd have to call her after dinner.

'Hello' I'd say.

'Hello'

My heart would skip a beat and even though we were three seats away from each other, in class all day, I'll still ask,

'How are you?'

'I'm fine'

'How was your day?'

'fine. Yours? '

http://cobiezcourt..com.ng/2017/04/a-teen.html

... In the morning,it was a normal day in the Francis household. Everyone went about their daily affairs as usual. As he drove to work that morning,francis whistled triumphant tunes. He couldn't believe his luck. Regardless of all she saw last night,he had managed to convince his wife not to squeal a word of it outside. She saw reasons with him not to tarnish the family image because of a ten year old peasant niece.


"she is still going to have sex,eventually one day,but Our family will be destroyed forever."

http://cobiezcourt..com/2017/04/ada-3.html