The Driller

monster in the making

How brother, Messiah (a compound Uncle)

turned me into someone I never thought I would become. If you're reading this, please learn from my experience.

Never leave your children, especially daughters, in the care of just anyone, even if they seem trustworthy.

Always ask them detailed questions about how they spend their time with such individuals.

It all began when I was thirteen years old. I can still vividly remember it.

I was raised solely by my dad since I was three. My mom left us when she found a new lover and ran away with him to Canada. Despite my dad's pleas, she left anyway, but that’s beside the point.

I watched my dad struggle to raise me on his own. Because of me, he couldn’t get a proper job; no job would allow him to bring a child along.

When I turned thirteen, things started to look up for him. He got a well-paying job as a commercial driver for one of the most prestigious companies in Nigeria.

I cried my eyes out the day he packed his bags. His new job required him to be away from Monday to Saturday night.

"I’m not going to die, Angel," he said with a smile, trying to reassure me.

"This is a life-changing job. Once I save enough money, I’ll enroll you in that private boarding school. Plus, I’ll be buying you lots of clothes, shoes, and candies every time I come across something nice on the road. Don’t worry, brother Messiah will take good care of you while I’m gone. I’ve already asked him to check in on you from time to time."

I couldn’t stop the tears as I watched him pack his last item.

"Why Messiah? Can’t it be someone else? I don’t like him," I said, my voice trembling.

"You don’t like him because he punishes stubborn kids in the compound," Dad replied with a chuckle. "Just like every other kid, you probably hate him for that."

"It’s not that, Dad," I said softly. "Every time I see him, whether in the compound or on the street, I get this feeling that—"

"He’ll flog you for your wrongdoings?" Dad cut in, teasing me.

"No, Dad!" I protested.

"Who are you, Angela?" Dad asked, smiling warmly.

"I’m Daddy’s girl!" I replied.

"Exactly. And what does Daddy’s girl do?"

"Daddy’s girl is never bad! Daddy’s girl is good, respectful, and strong! Daddy’s girl doesn’t break down easily because she has a super daddy!" I said proudly, giving him a knuckle bump.

---

Dad smiled and gave me a big hug.

“That’s my girl! You’ll be fine, Angel. I’ll call you every day, and before you know it, I’ll be back.”

With that, Dad left for his new job.

I tried to stay positive, but the feeling of unease lingered.

Something about Brother Messiah always made me uncomfortable. He lived in the same compound as us, a little too close for comfort. Whenever I saw him, there was this look in his eyes that made me uneasy, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

At first, things were fine. Dad called regularly through his phone, and Brother Messiah would come by every now and then to check on me.

But soon, his visits became more frequent, and he started staying longer.

He began asking me personal questions questions that felt too invasive for someone who was supposed to be just watching over me.

One day, Brother Messiah came over after school. I was alone, doing my homework, when he knocked on the door. I opened it hesitantly.

“Hey, Angela,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought I’d drop by to see how you’re doing. Your dad asked me to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, keeping my distance.

He walked in without waiting for an invitation, making himself comfortable on the couch. “You know, it’s not safe for a young girl like you to be alone all the time. You’re growing up so fast. You need someone to guide you.”

I didn’t like the way he said that, but I nodded politely, hoping he’d leave soon.

Days turned into weeks, and Brother Messiah’s behavior grew stranger. He would brush against me when walking by or sit too close. At first, I told myself I was imagining things, but soon, it became clear that I wasn’t.

One evening, he came over again. This time, he didn’t knock, he just let himself in. I was in my room, and when I heard him, my heart started pounding. Something told me this time was different. I was very sick, that I couldn't stand up to go to the living room.

“Angela,” he called, his voice eerily calm.

I froze. I didn’t want to answer, but I knew I had to. At least I need someone to get me some drugs.

“Yes?”

He came into my room, closing the door behind him. “You’re becoming a young woman, Angela. It’s time you learn how to make a man happy,” he said, his tone dripping with something dark.

I wanted to scream, but I felt paralyzed with fear. This wasn’t the Brother Messiah I knew from afar.

He got to me and!!!