THE ABUSED CHILD

Chapter 4

My mother quickly got a dry towel and began to wipe the balm out of my body, to reduce its effect.

When I felt a little relief, I decided to make haste and eat my meal before leaving for school. I had just started eating when my father came in with a cane. 

where is that girl?" He shouted. "So she is still in this house at this time?" It was my father's voice.

Immediately I heard his voice, I quickly grabbed my school bag and dashed out running straight to school.

As usual the teacher on duty at the gate, hissed at me, I was a renowned latecomer. Something I had somehow expected them to get used to, and stopped getting themselves all worked up. She took a cane and began to whip me. After she felt satisfied, she then yelled at me with a loud voice to rush to my class.

As soon as I entered the class, Mr kika growled at me and quickly got up like a lion about to dislodge his prey. I quickly began to panic as soon as I saw him aiming towards me with his doubled strips of cane.

As I tried explaining to him that I had already being punished at the gate, my words fell on deaf ears as he quickly ordered me to postrate on the bare floor

I couldn't imagine myself being lashed on the bum as I quickly lied to him on how I had sustained some injury on my bum, and the whole class roared up in laughter. I felt ashamed. He quickly ordered me to stretch out my hands instead.

I obeyed. The first stroke landed on my palms and it immediately went numb. The pain shot through my whole body as other strokes continued to drop. I thought it was going to be like a row of five strokes altogether, but I had started to count ten upwards. Mr kika still continued to flog away with his whip.

At a point I burst out crying as I pleaded for help. My cry seemed to fall on deaf ears again. Then for a brief moment he stopped flogging and then told me to turn the back of my legs to him. I began to plead for help again as he forcibly turned me and began to lash at my bare legs. I wriggled in pain as the stripes continued to drop.

When I thought the flogging had ended, he asked for the back of my palms. The pains all over my body from the floggings made me cry even more, pleading for mercy. After flogging the back of my palms, and making them split fire, he ordered me with the most harsh voice I had ever heard to foolishly go and sit down. I couldn't recover easily from the truama of that day, as I almost fell sick after that day's beating.

The event of that day ended whatever stupid crush I thought I had for him.

Few months later I again came close to being killed from a blow I received from two fighting boys. It was break time and I had gone to get some snacks for my self. As I strolled back to my class, I saw two boys exchanging words and almost getting themselves ready for a fight. As I walked passed them, one of them who had wanted to dish his opponent a serious blow as a warning, hit me instead when his opponent dodged it.

I went almost blank out, as I saw myself dropping to the floor slowly. I could see the two boys looking scared and almost getting ready to run away. My stomach was panicking as serious pain shot through it making me to to shed forceful tears. As I dropped on the floor, I felt as if life was leaving me slowly.

Like a flash of lightening, I saw a stronger hand lifting me from the ground. It was Mr Abu, a new teacher. He quickly carried me on his hands into the class. That was the last thing I could remember as I immediately passed out. After a while, with the help of the headmistress and some teachers I was revived and taken home for rest.

I was glad, I was taken home and allowed to rest for the better part of that day

That evening, a drama issued at my father's shop, when one of his customer who patronised his gin and alcohol shop almost got him self killed.

He was usually a patriotic customer. One who never failed in coming every evening to patronise my father's shop. And because of his consistency, my father decided to purchase a seperate mug for him apart from the ones others who bought were sold with.

Nego was his name, and he was very generous. He would spend huge amount of money purchasing drinks and eatables for whoever was interested around him. His money never seemed to finish, as he was usually a careless giver.

Whenever he entered into any drinking spot in the evening when he usually showed up, most people would start hailing him. It was their method of encouraging him to spend more money on them. He was capable of emptying large trays and containers of alcohol at a single sitting. He drank so much that usually made him stagger home.

He was always on time and would leave as the last person from the drinking spot. My father made it a duty to always buy him a tin of milk after all his drinking spree to discourage him from staggering and making himself an drainage, full of dirty water that Mr nego had fallen into. That drainage was the major one in that area. It was where all other drainages and toilets of few people who couldn't afford a suckaway and toilet pipes channeled theirs into.

It was this same drainage that usually consumed some of the food we cooked that went sour overnight. Most of us except my parents were not fans of eating swallow. So anytime my mother prepared soup for eating fufu, it had a huge possiblity of being wasted in that big drainage, because we would only feed on it once, then the remaining may be left unattended to until it may go sour.

What we prefered to eat were anything grains.

That drainage was the swimming pool that Nego fell into. It was reported that he had branched at it to ease himself, but unfortunately both he and the urine entered into the drainage together.

I almost choked with laughter when I heard the story, but for the sake of my father who was ready to punish anybody that made a joke out of nego predicament kept all of us mute. We only began to make fun of it, few days after Mr nego had recuperated.

From that day, he began to curtail the level and rate at which he drank alcohol. He still continued to buy for others at the same rate at which he did before, but he began to curtail the rate at which he drank.

Mr nego was also the favourite of some of the women living at the brothel. Some of which he patronised occasionally. One of such women was Gina. She was a woman in her middle 30s and she was a heavy drunk Just like Mr nego. She could finish a bucket of alcohol by mere sipping at it slowly until the big content would be emptied in her.

Chapter 6

THE DEVILS WORK

When Mr and Mrs itele, our new neigbours, parked into the vicinity, my parents were particularly happy. Most of the people who lived closedby, were natives who could only communicate in their native language. So having a neigbour who could speak in English was a welcome idea. Few months later, Mrs itele decided to also trade in provisions and foodstuffs just like my mother.

Mother also helped her to find out where she usually bought her own stuffs at cheaper rate.

I quickly made friends with their kids, Lucky, Levi and Lethy. We spent most of the time, playing football as well as war games.

Few months later things became sour between my parents and the Iteles.

It had happened when mother had gone to the market to buy some things, while my younger brother meshack was at home playing with his ballon. Mother had recently bought ballon for everyone of us. I quickly hid mine carefully to avoid it bursting away, while meshack continued to blow air into his and make funny sound.

Not quite long, Levi the last born of the iteles, offered my meshack money asking him to sell his ballon to him.

Meshack quickly sold it to him and collected the money. About five minutes later, we heard a loud sound of the ballon. It had bursted while Levi was busy blowing it.

Immediately Levi saw that the ballon

had being destroyed, he......continues