It was the 2nd of May 2005. I had just finished from evening lectures when I received a call from an unknown number. Puzzled, I answered the call mouthing “Hello!”
“Please, am I on to Sabrina Ademoriyo” the caller responded calmly.
The voice was very unfamiliar but my major concern was what the caller had said before ending the call “Please come to Zoe Medical Hospital, Gbagada”.
I wearily boarded a bus going towards Gbagada as I sincerely hoped that nothing was wrong. The last time I entered a hospital was to mourn the death of my twin sister who passed away due to lungs cancer at twenty (20) years old. I had cried, prayed, read scriptures, prayed again then cried some more but that night, when I came to drop flowers for her with the intention of telling her that God was going to heal her, I saw a still body on the bed who the doctor later confirmed as dead.
I was mortified, depressed and sad. Pain tugged at my heart for loss of my only sibling, anger at God heated my soul for not answering my only prayer request and taking away my twin sister but worse of all was the fear that gripped my mind telling me that God would never answer my prayers. For days, I mourned the loss of my sister and two (2) years after her death, I was yet to forgive God for taking her away. Now it was just my parents and I that were left. I jostled back to reality as I scratched my head. Whatever reason was taking me to the hospital had better not be another sorry case and even though a tiny part of me suggested that I engage prayers, a bigger part of me kept reminding of what happened two (2) years ago.
In no time, we arrived at the bus-stop. The hospital was a walking distance from the bus-stop so I took advantage of my legs and kept hoping that all was well. When I arrived at the hospital, I was too scared to enter so I simply remained at the entrance and stared at the sign-post beside Zoe Medical Hospital for a while. After wasting some time, I eventually entered and the moment I stepped into the hospital, pictures of my late sister in her sick bed began to flash through my head. Immediately, I knew something was wrong and at that point, I began to wish that I remained outside and kept on staring at the sign-post that read “Zoe Medical Hospital.......we try our best but God heals”. At a point, I got too fed up with seeing images of Sandra (my twin sister) that I turned to leave the hospital but before I could get far, a nurse approached me and spoke gently “Are you Sabrina Ademoriyo?”
“Yes!” I responded trying to sound calm.
“Follow me” she continued as she led the way. After a few turnings, we arrived at the doctor’s office. He was really nice to me and that scared me even more. As far as I was concerned, doctors were only nice when they had bad reports to give. I gave him a numb look as I expected the worst from him. Then he asked me the strangest question ever “Do you have any relations in Lagos?”
“No Sir but my father’s sister and her husband live in Oyo State”, I responded as I wondered why he posed such a question. After staring at me for a while, he spoke “Your parents were involved in fatal accident earlier this evening”. It was my turn to stare at him for a while before I finally spoke “Where are they? Are they okay? Can I see them now?”
He titled his eye-glasses on his face before he finally spoke “I’m sorry but they were dead before they arrived at this hospital”
9th March 2013.
Everything was happening so fast and it felt like a dream, no! It was more like a night-mare. Two (2) years ago I lost my twin-sister to lung cancer and two years after, my parents joined by reason of a ghastly motor accident. “How could God do this me?” I wondered as a flopped on the floor and began another round of tears. All efforts made by my family members to comfort me had proved abortive. Many of them had come from far and wide to sympathize with me and assist in burying my parents but none of them had taken time to ask me where I was going to stay now that my immediate family had come to extinction.
“Yes!” I responded trying to sound calm.
“Follow me” she continued as she led the way. After a few turnings, we arrived at the doctor’s office. He was really nice to me and that scared me even more. As far as I was concerned, doctors were only nice when they had bad reports to give. I gave him a numb look as I expected the worst from him. Then he asked me the strangest question ever “Do you have any relations in Lagos?”
“No Sir but my father’s sister and her husband live in Oyo State”, I responded as I wondered why he posed such a question. After staring at me for a while, he spoke “Your parents were involved in fatal accident earlier this evening”. It was my turn to stare at him for a while before I finally spoke “Where are they? Are they okay? Can I see them now?”
He titled his eye-glasses on his face before he finally spoke “I’m sorry but they were dead before they arrived at this hospital”
9th March 2013.
Everything was happening so fast and it felt like a dream, no! It was more like a night-mare. Two (2) years ago I lost my twin-sister to lung cancer and two years after, my parents joined by reason of a ghastly motor accident. “How could God do this me?” I wondered as a flopped on the floor and began another round of tears. All efforts made by my family members to comfort me had proved abortive. Many of them had come from far and wide to sympathize with me and assist in burying my parents but none of them had taken time to ask me where I was going to stay now that my immediate family had come to extinction.
Burial had come and gone, my life had to continue but one thing I was assured of, my life was never going to remain the same. Some days after the final burial rights have been finalized, family members began to return to their destination. Very few asked me about where I was going to stay but I simply replied “I’d be very fine”. None of them went past that statement but deep down within, I knew that I had absolutely no where to lay my head. It was bad enough that I had just lost my parents but far worse was the thought that nobody really cared. I could sense suicidal thoughts crawling into my mind but it took all the strength in me to fight them and just when I was considering it, a young lady walked up to me. She was my father’s sister. “Why don’t you come and stay with us in Oyo State?”
I simply stared into thin air but couldn’t find the right words to say so I responded “I don’t want to be a burden”
“It’s okay Sabrina, my husband and I have discussed it and we feel it’s a great idea besides who knows, maybe through your presence God might give us our own kids”. Instantly I recalled that they had believed God for children for over ten (10) years in marriage. For some reason, I sympathized with her and decided to accept her offer. “Alright” I voiced as she embraced me. Deep within, I still wasn’t convinced that staying with them was going to end the sufferings in my life but then, it was worth the try.
My first few weeks in Oyo State were very unusual, I found it very difficult to concentrate during lectures at school, most of the time I felt frustrated, depression became my middle name and when no-one was watching, I cried my eye-balls out. Deep within me, I was screaming “somebody save Sabrina” but outside I was wondering if there was any saviour for me. It was exactly four (4) weeks after I started staying with my late father’s sister and her husband when my aunty acquired a job that involved her travelling every weekend to Abuja. It was great news for the family, but for me, I didn’t really care. Maybe, I should have been more interested in what was going to happen to me when my aunty left but then, I had already been through series of bad events, what more could happen...death. Well I’d gladly embrace it.
On the 13th August 2005, my aunty travelled to Abuja to commence work. It was late at night and her husband - my uncle had gone to drop her off at the airport. I lit a candle and watched it melt as I sat in a corner. “God, where are you” I whispered still angrily remembering what had happened to my late family. Just then, I heard the sound of a car tire screeching “Uncle must be back” I whispered to myself as I got up to go and open the door for him. He came in grumpy as usual with a scowl on his fore-head, sometimes I wondered whether he detested my being around.
I simply stared into thin air but couldn’t find the right words to say so I responded “I don’t want to be a burden”
“It’s okay Sabrina, my husband and I have discussed it and we feel it’s a great idea besides who knows, maybe through your presence God might give us our own kids”. Instantly I recalled that they had believed God for children for over ten (10) years in marriage. For some reason, I sympathized with her and decided to accept her offer. “Alright” I voiced as she embraced me. Deep within, I still wasn’t convinced that staying with them was going to end the sufferings in my life but then, it was worth the try.
My first few weeks in Oyo State were very unusual, I found it very difficult to concentrate during lectures at school, most of the time I felt frustrated, depression became my middle name and when no-one was watching, I cried my eye-balls out. Deep within me, I was screaming “somebody save Sabrina” but outside I was wondering if there was any saviour for me. It was exactly four (4) weeks after I started staying with my late father’s sister and her husband when my aunty acquired a job that involved her travelling every weekend to Abuja. It was great news for the family, but for me, I didn’t really care. Maybe, I should have been more interested in what was going to happen to me when my aunty left but then, I had already been through series of bad events, what more could happen...death. Well I’d gladly embrace it.
On the 13th August 2005, my aunty travelled to Abuja to commence work. It was late at night and her husband - my uncle had gone to drop her off at the airport. I lit a candle and watched it melt as I sat in a corner. “God, where are you” I whispered still angrily remembering what had happened to my late family. Just then, I heard the sound of a car tire screeching “Uncle must be back” I whispered to myself as I got up to go and open the door for him. He came in grumpy as usual with a scowl on his fore-head, sometimes I wondered whether he detested my being around.
That night, as I served him dinner, I noticed that he stared at me in an unusual way. Bothered, I went to my room to have an early night when I heard my name. “Sabrina” Uncle Lugo repeated in a strange voice. Quickly, I put on my slippers as I went to meet him. “You’re too cold for my liking” he continued as he stood up and walked towards me. Shaking like a leaf, I responded “Uncle, I don’t know what you’re talking about”. Then, he grabbed me by the waist “Let me explain better”. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was firm and strong. “Please let me go” I began to plead. “I would let you go, after I’m done with you”. With those words, he tossed me to the sofa and began to pull down his trousers. “Uncle, please don’t do this!” I tried to reason with him in a sacred voice. “Shhhh” he continued as he put his finger to his mouth. The next ten (10) minutes were worse than death for me as Uncle Lugo brutally raped me without apology.
16th March 2013.
I cried, I screamed, he held my mouth and warned out loudly “If you make noise, I’ll kill you and drop your dead body in the sea”. At a point, I became numb and kept silent as the tears gushed out of my eyes like rivers of water. When he was done, he left me on the floor weak, used, abandoned and worse than ever. He took my only sanity from me and my little treasure for dust. What made it even worse was this, I didn't know who talk to, whether to tell my aunty and face the death that Uncle Lugo had promised me but what I feared most was breaking her marriage and having the whole extended family regard me as a home-breaker or having my Uncle paint me as liar in a bid to defend himself.
16th March 2013.
I cried, I screamed, he held my mouth and warned out loudly “If you make noise, I’ll kill you and drop your dead body in the sea”. At a point, I became numb and kept silent as the tears gushed out of my eyes like rivers of water. When he was done, he left me on the floor weak, used, abandoned and worse than ever. He took my only sanity from me and my little treasure for dust. What made it even worse was this, I didn't know who talk to, whether to tell my aunty and face the death that Uncle Lugo had promised me but what I feared most was breaking her marriage and having the whole extended family regard me as a home-breaker or having my Uncle paint me as liar in a bid to defend himself.
My aunty returned the next-week and life went on for them but not for me. However, little did I know that my sorrows had just began. As my aunty continued with her series of business-related trips, Uncle Lugo used that opportunity to take any innocence that was left in me. Every single week, when aunty was away, he forcefully slept with me. Out of frustration, I stopped attending school, I became highly suicidal and couldn't find the most appropriate means to end my life.
One day, while I sat in my room crying (that had become a regular pattern), a thought flashed in my head and it involved me taking the life of my Uncle. I embraced it gladly and began to make plans on how to go about it. I finally decided that my best option was to use a sharp knife since I didn't have access to a gun. Slowly, I began to master-mind the plan of how I was going to kill Uncle Lugo.
It was a bright Saturday morning. As usual, aunty wasn't around and it was just me and Uncle Lugo in the house. Uncle Lugo had gone to the supermarket to obtain groceries for the house. While he was away, I hid a sharp knife in my back pocket with the intention of using it on him once I had the opportunity to come close to him. Later in the day, when he returned from work, he dropped the groceries and decided to take a short nap. “Yes” I whispered to myself as I brought out the knife. I crept silently into his room as I watched him snore with intensity. I hissed as walked to the side of his bed. “This is for taking away the last joy in my life” I whispered angrily. With those words, I raised the knife at him.
One day, while I sat in my room crying (that had become a regular pattern), a thought flashed in my head and it involved me taking the life of my Uncle. I embraced it gladly and began to make plans on how to go about it. I finally decided that my best option was to use a sharp knife since I didn't have access to a gun. Slowly, I began to master-mind the plan of how I was going to kill Uncle Lugo.
It was a bright Saturday morning. As usual, aunty wasn't around and it was just me and Uncle Lugo in the house. Uncle Lugo had gone to the supermarket to obtain groceries for the house. While he was away, I hid a sharp knife in my back pocket with the intention of using it on him once I had the opportunity to come close to him. Later in the day, when he returned from work, he dropped the groceries and decided to take a short nap. “Yes” I whispered to myself as I brought out the knife. I crept silently into his room as I watched him snore with intensity. I hissed as walked to the side of his bed. “This is for taking away the last joy in my life” I whispered angrily. With those words, I raised the knife at him.
23rd March 2013.
For a few seconds, with the knife still in the air, I began to whisper “I can’t, I’ve never killed anybody before, I don’t know how to”. With those words, the knife dropped from my hand on the floor as I began to sob gently. Even if I killed him, I wasn’t going to succeed in killing the pain he had planted in my soul. An inbuilt pain, which was going to remain with me, unless someone saved me. In tears, I picked up the knife and left the room. I cried until there were no more tears in my tear-gland, I cried till I slept off with dried tear stains on my face.
For a few seconds, with the knife still in the air, I began to whisper “I can’t, I’ve never killed anybody before, I don’t know how to”. With those words, the knife dropped from my hand on the floor as I began to sob gently. Even if I killed him, I wasn’t going to succeed in killing the pain he had planted in my soul. An inbuilt pain, which was going to remain with me, unless someone saved me. In tears, I picked up the knife and left the room. I cried until there were no more tears in my tear-gland, I cried till I slept off with dried tear stains on my face.
At about past one (1) in the morning, I heard a knock on the door and before I could respond, someone crept into my room. In my sleepy state, I tried to rub my eyes to find out who it was when I noticed that the person began to touch me. Instantly, I knew that Uncle Lugo had come to end the remaining ruins of my life again. I tried to struggle but it was no use, he over-powered me and raped me. This was the tenth (10) time he had raped me in ten weeks since my aunty commenced the job that took her to Abuja every weekend. I kept mute in cold tears as he inflicted me with pains just in a bid to satisfy his own pleasure. When he was done, he left without apology, without a word, he slammed the door and went to his own room.
Two (2) days after, aunty returned from Abuja. I wasn’t excited even though she had bought so many things for me. She tried to act like my mother but the truth was self-evident, she could and would never be my late mother. I watched as she kissed her husband in front of me talking about how much she had missed him, I was disgusted. Not out of jealousy “God forbid” but out of “what kind of wicked life is this?” With that on my mind, I stood up angrily and walked out of the sitting-room. Just as I was about to enter into my room, I noticed a Bible on the table. My first reaction was a hiss but for some reason I couldn’t explain, something moved me to look at the Bible. I picked it up and noticed that it belonged to my late father; apparently, he must have given it to my aunty before he died. Immediately, I began to recall all the times he sat me and my twin sister down and taught us the word of God every morning and night.
Two (2) days after, aunty returned from Abuja. I wasn’t excited even though she had bought so many things for me. She tried to act like my mother but the truth was self-evident, she could and would never be my late mother. I watched as she kissed her husband in front of me talking about how much she had missed him, I was disgusted. Not out of jealousy “God forbid” but out of “what kind of wicked life is this?” With that on my mind, I stood up angrily and walked out of the sitting-room. Just as I was about to enter into my room, I noticed a Bible on the table. My first reaction was a hiss but for some reason I couldn’t explain, something moved me to look at the Bible. I picked it up and noticed that it belonged to my late father; apparently, he must have given it to my aunty before he died. Immediately, I began to recall all the times he sat me and my twin sister down and taught us the word of God every morning and night.
That was when life was still going great. But now, I definitely couldn’t say the same. Then, daddy would give us assignments to study a verse in the Bible and talk about it. At the thought of how things used to be, I began to shed tears. I had completely strayed from my faith in Christ and the thought of what my late father would think if he knew my reaction to things that involved God, made me cry even more. I felt more miserable than ever.
I went into my room, and tried reading the Bible. The first page I open was John 3:16 and it read “For God so loved the world that whosoever believes in him would not perish but have everlasting life”. At that moment I recalled the first time our church pastor preached using this scripture, that was the day I gave my life to Christ. It was over nine (9) years ago but the testimony wasn’t the same now. With the Bible still opened on my bed, I felt a nudge from within telling me to look for my phone which had been switched off since my life switched off. I put it on and was surprised at the millions of text-messages that had been sent by friends and well-wishers. Just then, a call came in. Initially, I wanted to ignore the call but it felt like something was controlling me so I answered the call.
“Hello” I mouthed into the phone. I listened as one of my few friend ranted how she had searched for me, wondering why I hadn’t been coming to school and never stopped dialling my number. After a very long conversation, she invited me for a crusade that was to hold next week. The call ended with a promise from me not to allow for us to lose contact. I dropped the phone and was about to pick the phone when I felt an urge to vomit that was coupled with a nauseous feeling. This went on for several days and thankfully my aunt didn’t noticed. Eventually, I took up the courage to go and see a doctor on my own. And then, my worst fears were confirmed.
“You’re ten (10) weeks pregnant” the doctor confirmed.
30th March 2013.
I didn’t know who to tell or even what to do. I wanted to run away but where was I going to run to. I thought of abortion but then, the fear of killing an unborn child choked me to death so I just couldn’t engage in the act. I decided to call my friend who had called me some days earlier and informed her that I was going to come and spend some days with her. Thankfully, she agreed and even offered to come and pick me. When I informed my aunt and uncle of the idea, they were surprised, my uncle especially. Without me having to do too much convincing, my aunt agreed that I needed some time out even if it was for a week. My uncle blatantly refused stating that I was just a young girl and if I stayed in the wrong place, I could be victimized by young and useless boys.
“Hello” I mouthed into the phone. I listened as one of my few friend ranted how she had searched for me, wondering why I hadn’t been coming to school and never stopped dialling my number. After a very long conversation, she invited me for a crusade that was to hold next week. The call ended with a promise from me not to allow for us to lose contact. I dropped the phone and was about to pick the phone when I felt an urge to vomit that was coupled with a nauseous feeling. This went on for several days and thankfully my aunt didn’t noticed. Eventually, I took up the courage to go and see a doctor on my own. And then, my worst fears were confirmed.
“You’re ten (10) weeks pregnant” the doctor confirmed.
30th March 2013.
I didn’t know who to tell or even what to do. I wanted to run away but where was I going to run to. I thought of abortion but then, the fear of killing an unborn child choked me to death so I just couldn’t engage in the act. I decided to call my friend who had called me some days earlier and informed her that I was going to come and spend some days with her. Thankfully, she agreed and even offered to come and pick me. When I informed my aunt and uncle of the idea, they were surprised, my uncle especially. Without me having to do too much convincing, my aunt agreed that I needed some time out even if it was for a week. My uncle blatantly refused stating that I was just a young girl and if I stayed in the wrong place, I could be victimized by young and useless boys.
My aunt and I watched as he ranted on about how I was too precious to go. He concluded with the words “Who would take care of me when you travel to Abuja?” I was in a state of complete shock as I wanted to scream “How dare you?” but I simply kept quiet and stared as tears began to stroll down my face. On seeing my tears, my aunty spoke out loudly and sharply “Sabrina would go and spend some time with her friend even if it means that this week I won’t go to Abuja”. With my aunt’s final say, Uncle kept quiet as he grumbled under his breath.
The next day, my dear friend- Chioma, came to pick me up. Joyfully, I left the house without wasting much time saying good-byes. Sincerely, I didn’t want to return. Chioma made me feel much better and her family was the exact definition of welcoming and loving. They treated me as their own daughter and answered to my every need. For the first time in a long while, I felt the warmth of a family and guess what, I actually smiled several times. Three (3) nights after, Chioma reminded me about the crusade that was to hold the next day.
The next day, my dear friend- Chioma, came to pick me up. Joyfully, I left the house without wasting much time saying good-byes. Sincerely, I didn’t want to return. Chioma made me feel much better and her family was the exact definition of welcoming and loving. They treated me as their own daughter and answered to my every need. For the first time in a long while, I felt the warmth of a family and guess what, I actually smiled several times. Three (3) nights after, Chioma reminded me about the crusade that was to hold the next day.
I wasn’t really interested but Chioma had done so much for me in the little time I had spent with them and I didn’t want to make her feel bad so I accepted to come along. The next day, the entire family set out for the crusade, I was surprised as I thought it was just me and Chioma but then, I was very excited. The Okatas reminded me so much of my late family members. At the crusade, the worship was amazing and for the first time, I saw myself crying during the worship asking God to just take-over my life. I remembered all the hurtful things I said about God and asked him to please forgive me and accept my worship. As soon as I made that statement, it was like my worship went to the next levels.
When the minister came on board, the atmosphere was something else as the Holy Spirit powered the atmosphere. His words weren’t ordinary, it was like they were anointed. He spoke about God’s love for us and then went on to talk about the fact that even when we go through our deepest darkness, God is right there beside us. He reminded me of the scripture in which God said “I’ll never leave you nor forsake you”. It was like he was talking to me.
When the altar call was made, I didn’t need any coercion to take me to the front where the preacher was. I was in tears, asking God to have mercy on me. After the sinners prayer, it was like a weight had been lifted from me. For the first time, I mouthed these words “Thank you Lord for saving Sabrina”. That day, as we returned back home, I decided to buy myself a bible from a nearby bookstore. However, I didn’t see a car coming from the other side. Before Chioma could stop me by calling my name, the car hit me. Instantly, I went into a black out.
Two (2) weeks later, I woke up in the hospital. My aunt was beside me. She was praying quietly and on noticing that I had woke up, she went to call the doctor. After a round of checks, the doctor responded “She’s doing fine”. With that, he left. As soon as he left, my aunt went on her knees and began to beg me “Please Sabrina, forgive me for not knowing what my husband was doing to you”. She was in tears. “How did you know?” I asked gently.
Two (2) weeks later, I woke up in the hospital. My aunt was beside me. She was praying quietly and on noticing that I had woke up, she went to call the doctor. After a round of checks, the doctor responded “She’s doing fine”. With that, he left. As soon as he left, my aunt went on her knees and began to beg me “Please Sabrina, forgive me for not knowing what my husband was doing to you”. She was in tears. “How did you know?” I asked gently.
One night while he was sleeping, he began to talk about everything that happened while he was away. Initially, I thought he was sleep-talking and so I woke him up then confronted him. He denied it over and over again so I decided to interrogate the gate-man who eventually told me that every weekend when I travelled, he usually heard you screaming at night, he told me everything he knew”. “Where is Uncle?” I finally voiced. “I ensured he was arrested and he’s not going to be coming back” My aunty continued.
With the little strength in me, I whispered “It’s alright aunty, I’ve forgiven Uncle Lugo”.
“What happened to you?” My aunty asked surprised or rather shocked.
“Christ happened to me, he saved Sabrina”.
My Aunty smiled with joy as she held me and promised to take care of my unborn child.
By Olugbeje Temitope
With the little strength in me, I whispered “It’s alright aunty, I’ve forgiven Uncle Lugo”.
“What happened to you?” My aunty asked surprised or rather shocked.
“Christ happened to me, he saved Sabrina”.
My Aunty smiled with joy as she held me and promised to take care of my unborn child.
By Olugbeje Temitope
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