Happi was a taciturn little girl of somber temperament. That often meant that adults treated her like a retarded child. She would not respond to their questions as quickly as they would have liked, not because she did not understand them but because Happi did not like to be the focus of anyone’s attention. And anytime she found herself on the end of a question, she felt the eye balls directed her way as effectively as beams of lightning. She always needed a moment to adjust to their attentiveness and the grown-ups had little patience to accommodate her peculiarity. They would, in those moments, typically call her nasty names to release their frustration. Stupid girl! Olodo! Mumu! And Happi would stand in front of them remorsefully wishing her sluggishness had not driven them to such anger.

She was now fourteen years old and, already, she had the voluptuous body of a fully formed woman. However, she consistently hunched her shoulders and still carried her breasts awkwardly like a cancer, even four years after they had made their entrance into Happi’s life. She had filled out rather prematurely and since then, life’s already tedious sequences had become much more difficult to bear. The breasts were to blame. They had skidded from the periphery into the limelight and they had suddenly become fundamental to the way she was perceived by other people.

People stared all the time. Men and women. When women stared at Happi’s breasts, it was often disdainfully or with an air of helplessness as though Happi were brandishing two unstoppable live grenades designed to target the men in their lives. And when men stared at her breasts, it was often with a look of longing as though she had been displaying ice-cream cones in a shop window. What was common to both, however, was the look of instant embarrassment. Happi’s breasts were, quite frankly, too enormous to be ignored. And because of the significance of breasts in culture, it made people blush when they looked at Happi. Her whole being had been reduced to a common sexual innuendo. When she walked into a room, mute as she usually was, it was fitting to say “No, thank you” or “Yes, I would like some”. And it would be generally understood.

Happi wished she could just cut them off. Looking in the mirror, she felt ugly and worthless.

Like a number of girls her age, she suffered a vicious attack of acne – angry red pimples that demanded to be left alone. The more she had tried to get rid of them, the more determined they became to stay – imposing themselves on her skin with astonishing audacity. They had now taken up every inch of space on her face. She hated herself. She hated the restrictive brassieres that were now an absolute necessity. She hated the hairs that had surfaced in undesired places, further complicating a battle to exterminate body odor. She especial hated the periods. They were the worst. Since she began menstruating, she felt like she had been serving out a harsh life sentence that permitted monthly furloughs which didn’t seem nearly as long as they actually were. She would writhe in crippling pain for nearly a week slaving through tasks in extreme discomfort and only really feel whole again after ‘the curse’ had passed. The last day of her period was almost festive as she joyfully anticipated the weeks of freedom ahead. Sadly, they were always over in the blink of an eye.

Happi did not care for this new phase in her life, it was something she desperately wished she could do without. She felt disgusted with herself and was overwhelmed by a persistent need to wash away the filth and discomfort of puberty.

The people around her had changed as well. Izu, the boy next door who had been her most dependable playmate did not come by as often as he once did. On the rare occasion, he was shy and restrained around her. His mother had warned him to keep his distance and he heeded as though Happi had suddenly contracted leprosy. When she saw him in the street as she ran her errands, he would not even wave to her. He would quickly avert his eyes and scurry off in the opposite direction. This made Happi really sad. She didn’t have many friends. In fact, he had been her only friend.

Even Ikem and Ngo - the children she had minded since, as an eight year old, she had left her village in Abba to live with the Okafors in Port Harcourt – had sensed the sudden change in her body and discovered a new source of entertainment therein. They giggled whenever her breasts bounced. Ikem was now seven while Ngo was five. Little as they were, they knew that it was Happi’s mission to keep her breasts firmly in place and seeing them bounce was just as humiliating for her as falling flat on her face would have been. They were still at that age where it was acceptable to laugh, openly, at the misfortune of other people, Ikem and Ngo were positively amused by Happi’s bouncy breasts. In a few years, Ikem might know enough to blush instead of giggle and would probably avoid Happi like Izu had been asked to do, while Ngo might grow resentful of her.

Mrs. Okafor, her madam, had taken her transformation especially badly. Happi recalled the evening, about four years ago, she had been serving madam and Oga their dinner in the dining room. She had just set down Oga’s tray holding a steaming bowl of plantain porridge when madam suddenly screamed, “Happiness! What are you doing?”

Perplexed, Happi had looked about herself and down at the bowl to see if she had failed to cover it properly or if she had mixed up the cutlery again – a thing Oga had warned her about on a previous occasion. Happi tried her best never to repeat a mistake after being chastised once about it.

But madam had sent Happi to her room without an explanation. Her grim expression had sufficed to upset the girl so much that she had sobbed quietly in the tiny bedroom, wringing her hands as she waited for the hammer to fall. She had wondered if madam would finally send her home like she usually threatened to do whenever Happi made a mistake. Madam had a very unpredictable temper. She flew off the handle quite easily, throwing odd items at the object of her disdain. She didn’t consider the value or fragility of the things she flung when her whole being was consumed, in that moment, by an overwhelming need to cause bodily harm. It was only afterwards, when her rage was interrupted by screams of pain and the sound of shattering glass, that she would recognize the priceless wreckage on the floor. It usually caused a fresh surge of more intense anger over losing her precious knickknack. And then there would be a new cause to dish out a thorough beating.

Happi’s parents were poor. Her whole village was poor. The five thousand Naira her parents received from the Okafors every month was desperately needed. She could not afford to behave badly and have madam send her back to the village. Her father would be furious! Happi had eight younger siblings that needed to be cared for and mother was expecting another child. She was well aware of her responsibility, as the first daughter – the Ada. She needed to contribute her share to the upkeep of her family and she did not want to disappoint them. Her siblings would not take kindly to having her back home to further diminish the already meager rations of food and clothing material.

It was nearly 10pm when madam came into her bedroom. She had mumbled some stern words and shut the door in Ngo’s face, preventing the little girl from following her into Happi’s room.

“Sit down!” she had commanded harshly and Happi promptly complied allowing madam to cast an ominous shadow over her with her large frame.

“When did you start growing breasts?” madam had demanded without preamble. It was really more an accusation than an inquiry. Happi was startled. She didn’t know how to answer the question, or if she even should.

She had decided not to.

“Are you deaf?” madam had persisted.

“No, ma” Happi had hastily replied.

“ooooh, so you have started growing breasts in my house and you are strutting about like a peacock. You are now a woman, abi?” madam had been perspiring over her upper lip as she only did when she was extremely stressed.

“No, ma” Happi had said quietly.

“No, ma what?! If I hadn’t cautioned you, you would have been serving Oga with your breasts in his face! Is that how you behave? Look at you, you now know what a man is, don’t you?” Madam had been very agitated but it was also evident that, uncharacteristically, she fought for restraint. “Why didn’t you tell me to buy bra for you?”

Happi had sat on the edge of the bed not knowing what to say.

“Have you started seeing your period?” madam had asked flippantly. She had watched Happi’s ignorant face as the girl made the effort to pay close attention to the words she was saying; as if, hearing them better might help her understand words that did not, naturally, form a part of her limited vocabulary. Madam had slowly registered the confusion transforming Happi’s features and then she laughed sardonically “Happiness! This girl will not kill me! Have you started seeing blood come out of your toto?”

Happi’s face was contorted in expression of pure horror, “No, ma” she denied vehemently.

“Village girl!” madam had said because she knew that ignorant girls like Happi believed only girls who had done ‘bad things’ bled from their vaginas. She had wanted madam to know that she was not a bad girl. Madam refused to correct Happi’s ludicrous misconception, instead she said, “Well, you will soon see it. And when you do, you will be a woman”

She had said ‘you will be a woman’ like it was a declaration of definitive doom.

“Do you know what that means?” madam continued.

Happi had not considered that she might not know what it meant to be a woman. But the simple fact that the question had been asked put her in doubt. Maybe there were secrets only revealed upon initiation. Wisely, she had proclaimed ignorance, “No, ma”

Madam had nodded gravely and then lowered her tone to an ominously cutting whisper that demanded to be heard, “It means that when a man touches you, you will become pregnant”

Happi had instantly been gripped by a surge of apprehension. She had felt very vulnerable. What a precarious position to be in! How was she ever to ensure no man touched her? She would, of course, immediately stop playing with the boys in her school but what good would that do? What if a boy were to sit next to her in a bus, or the conductor leaned in too closely to hand her change?

She had prayed for more time until the day of reckoning but two months later, she had bled.

*****

Since that day, madam treated Happi with increased disdain. She beat her more frequently – at the slightest provocation – and she suspected her every move. A minute’s delay on an errand was met with intense interrogation that typically ended with madam calling Happi a Liar. She would monitor happy through the window and ask about every man she saw Happi speaking to.

“Who was that man that gave you that fifty naira?” Madam would confront Happi at the door.

“Ma, that was Mallam, I bought this detergent from him. I gave him five hundred and he gave me this fifty naira in change” Happi would hold out the 1kg sachet of Omo and the fifty naira note for madam to see.

“That was not Mallam! Mallam always wears a white kaftan. That man was wearing shirt and trousers!”

Happi would shrug and not know what to make of Mallam’s decision to wear shirt and trousers that day. Why hadn’t he worn his usual white kaftan so that madam would recognize him easily?

“You think you are smart, abi?” Madam would carry on, “You think I fell out of my own mother’s womb already an adult? I was once a girl and I know all the tricks. Before you do one, I know what two is going to be. Your poor mother is suffering in the village and you want to come here to Port Harcourt and allow these men play with you. The day that I catch you, the slap that will land on your face, they will hear the sound of it in your village!”

It wasn’t just madam that was wary of the adolescent Happi, Auntie Esther used to be very friendly with Happi – she had always invited Happi into her home for a treat of Ugba salad, whenever she delivered messages from madam and Happi had always looked forward to visiting Auntie Esther. But even Auntie Esther was now short and aloof. She would intercept Happi as far away from the house as she could manage, conduct the business of the day and then send her on her way. She had overheard Auntie Esther and madam speaking in the kitchen one day.

“This your girl, na gbege o! Serious trouble!” Auntie Esther had been saying to madam, “Don’t be inviting temptation into your house. You know how men can be, they are like children sometimes”

“Hmmm, my sister! I’ve been watching this one like a hawk. I don’t give her any breathing space”
“Sometimes, it’s better to carry the girls when you already know what they are going to look like” Auntie Esther had mused, “No be dis wan wey come develop titanic for your house”

Happi had felt like a walking taboo. It was hard being a woman. She often sat alone in her room when there weren’t any chores to do. She would cry silently, questioning her lot in life. Why had she been given this massive burden?

In contrast to her experience with women, she found that men were now kinder to her. They smiled at her and winked at her in the street and offered to give her lifts in their cars even when her destination took them completely off their own courses. She had quickly learnt that their benevolence was often a prelude to something cruelly selfish and dangerous.

When Happi was eleven years old, one Sunday after service, Pastor Daniel had walked up to madam in the parking lot to express his concern about Happi – she had been in an altercation with one of the boys and he wanted to have words with both of the children. Happi had been shocked that the incident she was certain Pastor had been referring to had warranted a talking-to. Kene, the boy in question, had ordered Happi out of a seat he had reserved for his friend and after a feeble attempt to resist his bullying, Happi had conceded and found herself a different seat. Surely she wouldn’t be in trouble for that!

But madam had glared at her “What have you done now?”

“It’s nothing that serious” Pastor had quickly assured her, “We just want to make sure we exploit a teachable moment. The moral fiber of Children these days is so delicate”

“Of course, Pastor” madam had stated piously. She turned again to Happi, “Oya, follow Pastor and do your punishment” she was muttering her complaints about Happi’s failure to heed instructions to no one in particular as she rummaged within her large hand bag and came up with a crumpled two hundred naira note, “When you finish, take a bus to the house” she had pulled on her ear, “Make sure you come straight home, no branching!”

Pastor had smiled as madam deliberately expressed her distrust of the girl. “Children of these days! One needs to be hard on them sometimes.”

“You can say that again, Pastor! It’s not easy with them.” She bundled Ikem and Ngo, who were both subdued by hunger, into the posh Range Rover and climbed into the driver’s seat, “Please don’t keep her too long, we are expecting guests at home.” she had called out to Pastor as she kicked the SUV to life.

“I won’t keep her long” Pastor had promised.

They watched madam drive out of the church premises and then Pastor had turned to Happi, “Go to my office and wait for me there.” he instructed in business-like tone “I need to discharge some people first”

Happi did as she had been told.

She had sat alone in Pastor’s dinky office with the hard furniture, listening to the persistent whirring of the standing fan, for nearly thirty minutes before he came through the door. He had walked in buoyantly, expelling an elaborate wheeze that signified relief but also an air of self-importance. Pastor was dark skinned and lanky. He was in his early thirties. He wasn’t handsome but he was always properly groomed. His hair was cut very close to the skin and his clothes were always starched and pressed with extreme care. He carried himself with statuesque deliberateness.

“Finally, some respite! These people do not allow me to rest” he had glanced at Happi but she just stared at him quietly, “Do you know why I have asked you here?”

“Because of Kene” Happi had stated evenly.

Pastor started, “Well, yes of course! The boy you were arguing with in Church today. That’s correct.” he had nodded fervently. “You know very well that it’s wrong to behave that way in church, don’t you? It does not please God to see you fighting.”

Happi had wondered if the moment was appropriate to issue her apology to Pastor or if she would be better served praying to God for forgiveness. She also wondered when Kene would be arriving to join her on the receiving end of Pastor’s telling-off.

“I have a strong compulsion to punish you for your disrespectful behavior” he had spoken contemplatively. “Maybe that’s what you want. It definitely is what you deserve” Pastor’s gaze had dropped to Happi’s ample breasts and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“But because we serve a forgiving God, a stern lecture will probably be enough” Pastor had been saying, “God just wants us to keep improving ourselves, after all. Do you want to improve yourself, Happi?”

“Yes” Happi nodded.

“Good, Good” Pastor had said, “You see, I have been touched by God to minister to you, this afternoon, in a special way. My first intention was just to caution you and then send you on your way. But when I started speaking with you, I felt a chill. A very powerful force. And I can tell you that you are especially blessed because God has a message for you.” Pastor had paused for an effect that was lost on Happi, “God wants you to know more about Obedience, Happi. Do you know what it means to be obedient?”

Happi nodded, “To do as I am told”

“Good! That is exactly true.” Pastor had lauded, “to do as you are told. At all times. You see, the Bible says: Obey your parents and your days shall be – shall be longer. It is the only one of all the Ten Commandments that comes with a promise. This shows you how important it is to God that we obey him and that children obey their elders” his eyes had been fixed on her breasts again. “Now, I don’t know why God has decided that you should be lectured on obedience today. Maybe there’s a problem between you and your madam that requires smoothing over, or maybe he is preparing you for a future situation.”

Happi couldn’t think of a reason either. She had always considered obedience to be her strongest suit.

“It is not always going to be easy to be obedient” Pastor had continued evenly, “sometimes, we are asked to do things we do not agree with – things that seem bad to us because we lack wisdom to see things how God wants us to see them” he had paused again to scrutinize Happi’s face for a reaction. He got none. Her face had revealed nothing.

“Do you know the story of how God asked Abraham to sacrifice his only son Isaac?” Pastor had asked, to which Happi assented, “God asked Abraham to kill Isaac. And we know killing is wrong. Abraham knew killing was a sin. But God was testing his obedience. So Abraham took Isaac to be slaughtered in sacrifice to God without asking questions. How many people today do you think will be as obedient as Abraham was?”

Happi had shaken her head slowly.

“We will all get tested at various points in our lives just as Abraham was. You will be tested as well” Pastor had declared brusquely “If you were tested would you pass?”

“Yes” Happi had stated confidently, eager to please.

“Are you sure?” Pastor had chuckled, “Don’t be so quick to claim you would pass the tests you would be faced with, it requires the grace of God after all”

Happi had stared at him evenly.

Pastor had worn a mixed expression of slight puzzlement and self-satisfaction. “Is the grace of God with you, Happi?”

Happi wasn’t sure about this so she shrugged, unwilling to commit to a definite response.

“We will find out soon enough” Pastor promised.

Happi had remained silent as Pastor got out of his chair and came round the desk to where she was sitting. He began to slowly but deliberately unbuckle his belt. As he did so, he had looked Happi straight in the eyes. He must have seen the quiet panic begin to stir as her composure cracked because he had smiled. “Relax, it’s just a test”. He had unzipped his fly and pulled out his fully erect penis.

It was a menacing size and seemed to be the third person in the room. An almost completely black thick shaft with bulging veins connected to a lighter engorged head, which oozed a thin drool of colorless liquid. It was ugly – strange looking – and it jerked sporadically of its own volition.

It wasn’t the first time that Happi had seen a man’s penis. When she was eight years old, the year she had come to stay with the Okafors, Uncle Henry had taken her, Ikem and Ngo to a carnival in Aba. It was a colorful spectacle with several masquerades on show. Children darted about freely, enjoying the festivity. The area was densely packed with spectators forming a circle around the performers. Happi had been standing with Ikem close to the action while Uncle Henry stood behind carrying Ngo in his arms giving her a vantage position. A man standing behind Happi had suddenly put his hands on her shoulders. She had glanced at him briefly but made nothing of it. Then, a few minutes later Happi felt him push his pelvis against her back, she had assumed that the pressure had resulted from all of the pushing going on within the excited crowd. But then she felt the growing hardness in a specific region. She quickly turned around to see what the intrusive object was but caught only a glimpse of his exposed penis as he quickly thrashed out a hand to grab Happi and pull her back into position to conceal his indecency. The little exchange didn’t bother anyone, people remained intensely absorbed by the activities within the ring. The man let go of Happi’s shoulders when he had safely tucked away his tumescent penis in his pants. He then gave her a little nudge implying that it was alright to move. Happi had taken Ikem’s hand and led him towards Uncle Henry and Ngo. She never spoke of this incident with anyone.

“Do you know what this is?” Pastor had asked as he caressed his member until it grew even larger. Happi had stared him directly in the eye, refusing to look at it, “Of course you do. You’re a big girl, aren’t you” he reached for Happi’s jaw, running his thumb lightly over her lower lip, “Take it in your mouth” he had instructed as he thrust his hip forward, prodding her tightly closed lips with the head of his penis, “Open!” he urged.

Happi had turned her head away.

“Obedience, Happi, remember?” Pastor had cautioned.

Happi had shaken her head.

“Come now” Pastor berated her, “don’t give up so easily”

“But it’s poisonous!” Happi had lamented.

Pastor had laughed – a slightly disconcerted and breathy sound, “Poisonous? No, it’s not. It is protein, like breast milk. Taste it” he coaxed, “Come now, open! I won’t lie to you, I’m a Pastor. If I lie, I go to Hell” his tone had assumed a thick quality as a result of his arousal, “I won’t poison you. Why would you think I would do such a thing?”

He had reached down the front of her blouse and fondled her breasts. Her nipples were hard. “See? You want it” Pastor had boasted. “Open up”

“I don’t want it” Happi had protested.

“You are lying to me now, Happi. Is that what you are? A liar? See how hard your nipples are?” he had pinched them between his thumb and index finger until Happi winced, “See? That means you are enjoying what I am doing to you.”

Happi hadn’t known that her aching nipples were a declaration of pleasure. She hadn’t felt any pleasure. She had known, however, that she felt extremely uncomfortable and deeply shamed.

“Please” she had begged, “Can I go now?”

For the first time Pastor had gotten visibly enraged, “What type of girl are you? Do you want me to tell your madam how you are behaving?”

Happi couldn’t imagine what Pastor had planned to tell madam but she had known that whatever the tale would be, it was bound to end really badly for her.

“No”

“Oya, open! I’m not playing”

Pastor had moaned fervently as he slid his sizeable penis into Happi’s small mouth. As he moved his hips to and fro, he had spoken incoherent words of endearment. They seemed to be meant more for his encouragement than hers.

“Do you like it?” he had asked. Her mouth stuffed with his manhood, it was doubtful he had expected an answer but he kept asking, “Do you like this? Hmmmm...Do you like this?” shoving himself deeper into her mouth until she had choked.

He had pulled out his penis which was covered in Happi’s slobber and then he had shoved it down her blouse, between her breasts. He grinded up against her until he squirted a thick sticky deposit of semen down her blouse which trickled down her belly. As he expelled the fluid, he had taken hold of Happi’s hair and let out a muffled cry, his body jerking violently. It had taken him a full minute to recover. He zipped up his trousers and handed her a tissue from the desk as he sat back down in his chair.

Happi had taken the piece of tissue and wiped away the stain of Pastor’s assault. The only thing that came off was his semen.

“You are a good girl” Pastor spoke eventually, he had avoided eye contact. It seemed as though he regretted what he had done. “If I weren’t already married, you are the type I should make my wife.” He had offered graciously to the eleven year old girl.

Happi had felt the pungent stinging of a gathering flood behind her eyes.

“But you can be my secret girlfriend” he had decided in truce, “Would you like that? I would take care of your petty needs. Soap, recharge card……. things like that. Do you own a phone?”

Happi had shaken her head.

“You see, I can get you one. But your madam mustn’t find out” Pastor had said “In fact, it is better to keep everything a secret from her, okay? If your madam found out about you and me, she would, immediately, send you back to your poor parents!” Pastor pointed out “Do you want that to happen? I can speak with her on your behalf so that she isn’t so tough on you all the time. But only if you promise to behave yourself.”

He had walked to the wooden receptacle which had been used to collect the offering at service, he pulled out four five hundred Naira notes and held them out to her, “use this to fix up your hair” he had explained, “And stop crying! I didn’t do anything, nothing will happen to you. So don’t worry, Okay? Just use that money and make yourself happy”

Happi did not want Pastor’s money. She did not want anything from him. She had not planned to tell madam any of it either. Not because Pastor had asked her to keep it secret but because madam would have blamed her for everything. She would have beaten Happi with every ounce of loathing she possessed, having finally ‘caught’ her with a man. But she would find out soon enough, Happi thought, because she was certain that Pastor had gotten her pregnant.

*****

A month after the incident with Pastor, Happi had come down with a fever. She had lain in her bedroom in the late afternoon covered in her wrapper up to her ears. She had been shivering nonetheless. Ngo had skipped into the room blithely, eager for some attention and when she didn’t get it she had pouted but then eventually asked “Are you sick?” When Happi didn’t reply, she ran off to the kitchen to get her a bottle of Fanta, urging Happi to drink it. Finally, she had called her mother.

Madam had walked into the room a little bit later. “What is wrong with you?” she asked. Happi hadn’t responded but madam hadn’t expected her to.

She had walked up to the edge of the bed and touched the back of her hand to Happi’s forehead, “Hmmm!” she had scoffed, “You see? Someone will be telling you people to close your windows so mosquitoes wouldn’t come in but you wouldn’t listen. Now you have malaria”

Madam had left the room and returned fifteen minutes after, dressed up and keys in hand, “oya, get up! Let’s go and see Dr. Charles”

Dr. Charles was the family Pediatrician. A big burly man in his early sixties with a retrospective afro that had turned respectably grey. His face was pleasant as he waved madam and Happi into the seats before his expansive desk. His private practice was doing rather well, as could be deduced from the expensive-looking furniture. After the customary pleasantries had been exchanged, Doctor leaned back in his seat and examined the folder the nurse had set on his table.

“So, what’s the matter with your girl?” Doctor had asked pensively

“She has malaria” madam had stated emphatically.

Doctor smiled, “Is that your expert diagnosis Mrs. Okafor?”

Madam laughed, “Isn’t it always malaria?”

“More often than not” Doctor had agreed, “But while you are here…” he had turned his attention to Happi, “Are you feeling any pains?”

Happi had worried that if she told Doctor about her stomach ache he would discover that she was pregnant. He would then tell madam and she would send her back to the village.

“No, Sir”

Doctor had caught the moment of hesitation. He turned again to madam, “You know what, Charity? Why don’t you allow us make you more comfortable in our new lounge for our special patrons while I speak with your girl privately. We serve snacks”

Madam had looked suspicious at first but after Doctor had referred to her as one of his ‘special patrons’. She allowed herself be shown to the lounge by a nurse.

“Okay” Doctor leaned forward, “It’s just you and I now, try to relax” he had smiled and then repeated, “Are you feeling any pains?”

Happi had nodded.

“Can you tell me where?” Doctor had asked patiently.

“I am pregnant” Happi blurted out as she welled up. She had considered it futile to lead Doctor on a trip about the bush. He was bound to discover the truth in the end.

Doctor did not seem fazed. “You are pregnant?” he had asked evenly, “How old are you?”

“Eleven”

“You are eleven years old. Have you started menstruating?”

Happi had blushed, “Yes”

“When was your last period?”

Happi considered this. She hadn’t been paying particular attention but it was definitely the day Auntie Esther had come visiting.

“Two weeks ago”

“Two weeks ago” Doctor had repeated slowly. He paused as he examined the face of the young girl sitting timidly in front of him. “Why do you think you are pregnant, Happiness?”

“Because Pastor touched me”

Doctor had been horrified, “What?! What happened?”

“Madam says I would get pregnant if a man touched me because I started seeing my period”

Doctor had been perplexed. But then he started laughing. Hard and heartily. He imagined the Pastor laying hands on this innocent and ignorant little girl for the purpose of anointing and prayer. He imagined the girl suddenly beside herself with fright as she believed she had definitively fallen pregnant as a result of such harmless contact.

“You are not pregnant, Happiness” Doctor had assured her.

“But madam -”

“Your madam was only trying to scare you to keep away from boys. As well you should.” He had added sternly, “It is true that you could get pregnant, now that you have begun menstruating, but not by a mere touch from a man”

Doctor considered educating this girl properly but decided that it was not his place to do so. He would speak with Mrs. Okafor, as soon as possible, to caution her about the dangers of failing to adequately inform children about sex. It irked him that so many guardians shied away from the difficult and embarrassing conversations for their own convenience and to the detriment of the children.

Happi had still not seemed convinced. She continued to look worried.

“It probably is just malaria” Doctor tried again, “I will send you to the lab for some tests, is that alright?”

“A pregnancy test?” Happi had asked hopefully.

Doctor had regarded her thoughtfully. “Would that put your mind at rest?”

Happi nodded.

“Okay” he had scribbled something on a sheet in the flat file.

There had been a brief rap on the door after which a man in scrubs peered into the room.

“Ehen, Peter!” Doctor had said to him, “Abeg, carry am go lab” he had handed peter the file. Peter scanned the scheduled tests and shot Doctor a quizzical look. “She thinks she is pregnant”

Doctor had told Peter everything.

“Can you imagine the ignorance of parent’s these days? You think you’re protecting your child by keeping them in the dark? They need all of the information so that they can protect themselves! You aren’t going to be with them all the time” Doctor had ranted in frustration, “I will have a word with Mrs. Okafor.”

This declaration had worried Happi. What had Doctor planned to tell madam? Whatever it was, it was guaranteed to cause her serious hardship. Madam would send her home. But first, she would slap her so hard that it would be heard all the way from Port Harcourt to her village.

Happi had followed Peter to the lab. He had still worn the amused expression with which he had received Doctor’s narration minutes before. He instructed her to sit on the examination couch while he prepared to draw a blood sample.

“I am going to put on these latex gloves so you don’t get pregnant when I touch you, is that alright?” Peter had teased but he did not get a reaction out of Happi. She remained somber and serious as he took a sturdy needle to her vein. He proceeded to go about his task quietly, slightly bored with the plain expression of his charge.

“Keep pressure on this” he had instructed, guiding her finger over the cotton. “We are finished” he had declared.

Happi looked perplexed. “What about the pregnancy test?”

Peter had bristled.

“I just took your sample”

“Doctor Charles said I could get a pregnancy test too” Happi had insisted.

Peter wondered about Happi’s ignorance. Surely an eleven year old girl couldn’t be so clueless! He decided to amuse himself.

“Alright, take off your pants and get back on the couch.”

Happi had immediately obliged.

“Spread your legs” he had instructed.

Then Peter had peeled off his latex gloves and inserted his finger into Happi’s dry vagina. Almost instantly, the blood trickled down his hand. Happi winced in pain and Peter gasped in disbelief.

“Good news!” he had said, “You are not pregnant”


*****


Happi had never been kissed. She had lost her virginity. She had been forced to take a man’s member in her mouth. She had coughed up the salty taste of his sweat. She had wiped semen off her skin. But she hadn’t been kissed. She once used to dream about it, like most young girls do – that first intimate show of affection. But not anymore. She did not dream of it now. She dreaded it. The boy who would kiss her someday would surely taste Pastor’s sticky ejaculate all over her. He would taste all of the indignity which had depleted her self worth.

As she stared at her reflection in the cracked mirror, the ugliness the stared back had very little to do with the pimples or the patch of grime on her left cheek. She could take a wash cloth to the filth and wipe it off. And in a few years, the pimples would be gone too. But there were indelible blemishes here that would ruin her reflection for as long as she lived.

You write very well. One of the reasons I followed you in the first place.

Chuksemi:
You write very well. One of the reasons I followed you in the first place.

Thanks, dear.

RaggedyAnn:




Thanks, dear.

Would you end the story like this? I am already imagining what will happen to her eventually. Though I get the message you are trying to pass.

Short Story? Really?

Chuksemi:



Would you end the story like this? I am already imagining what will happen to her eventually. Though I get the message you are trying to pass.

Yes, I can also imagine how this would affect her. How she learns to take control of her sexuality and begins to use it as a currency. The trouble she would get into. I might eventually expend it into a novelette.

BestySam:
Short Story? Really?

Literarily, yes. As in, under 7500 words.

@RaggedyAnn you are an exceptional writer.
I've read a lot of crap on nairaland that has made the almighty frontpage, but this your writing is simply phenomenal.
Something tells me that you've been doing this professionally for quite some time. Maybe even won an award for writing (say, commonwealth...).
I am now officially your numero uno nairaland-fan. Keep dishing stories of this quality and i might fall in love with you.

coolk:
@RaggedyAnn you are an exceptional writer.
I've read a lot of crap on nairaland that has made the almighty frontpage, but this your writing is simply phenomenal.
Something tells me that you've been doing this professionally for quite some time. Maybe even won an award for writing (say, commonwealth...).
I am now officially your numero uno nairaland-fan. Keep dishing stories of this quality and i might fall in love with you.

Awww...thanks for that awesome compliment!

RaggedyAnn:



Yes, I can also imagine how this would affect her. How she learns to take control of her sexuality and begins to use it as a currency. The trouble she would get into. I might eventually expend it into a novelette.

I sincerely hope you do. The story is too good.