As you approached your Mother's stall, your heart began to pound rapidly.

You thought of the tall 'Uncle' with red eyes —eyes that roamed around your body each time, like he had something hidden in you.

You thought of Barrister Oleme; the ever jolly, sly and jobless young man who always insisted on having you bring his orders, each time he patronized your mother. You remembered the last time he came to eat at your Mother's. He had smiled at his folly after he patted your hips with some wads of Naira notes that had this strong stench of poverty. You remembered how he eloquently swore to show you the seven wonders of the world, if you visit him at his apartment in Warri when Mother travels.

You thought of Pa Edache whom you called the 'living Chimney'.

You remembered how he always decorated your path with the fumes that escaped from his nostrils each day. Each time he asked you to bring the lighter, he'd always tried to wink at you— an act that always made him look like a circus clown.

Now, your heart began to beat faster when you remembered the previous night.

Your mother and her workers left you behind in the stall to clean up. Pa Edache returned to get his cap, which he claimed he forgot. This time, he did not have a stick of cigarette with him so, you did not perceive his arrival immediately. You only knew it was him when he tried to fondle you. You kicked and screamed and swore. Then, you remembered almost crippling his legs with a table. He gave you a slap that made you temporarily blind. And, another and another. Then, you could remember no more.

#EndGBV.