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ADA by Chikadibia
PAINS

She was not sure exactly what they meant when they promised her a better life and the good things of the city. But Ada knew the situation she endured was not exactly what she nor her parents, anticipated when they let her go with Uncle Francis and his wife to the City.

She adapted quickly to her reality, washing heaps of clothes everyday. The despicable oddity of washing her Uncle’s Boxer Shorts and his wife’s blood stained underwears, seldom terrified her anymore.

The better life earlier promised her, turned out to be a pleasant pseudonym for ‘full time house help’.

Ada was the only daughter of her parents. She called her Uncle and his wife, ‘Daddy and Mummy’. Her Mother told her that her aunt and uncle, would be her new parents in the city. “They will feed you, clothe you, provide for you and care for you. They will love, guide and protect you just like your father and I. Don’t worry my daughter, they’re your parents now, Obey them in everything. And call your uncle, Daddy and your aunt, will be your Mummy. Ada Nna, Inugo?”

It felt like ages ago, when Mother tried so hard to hide her emotions behind long admonitions before she bade her goodbye.

Ada never believed anyone could treat her like her parents, much less become her ‘new parents’ as mother had put it. She had hoped to be proved wrong by uncle Francis and his wife. Then again, she took all the promise of ‘a home away from home’, with a pinch of salt. It helped her swallow the bitter pill of manual and debasing labor forced down her throat by her ‘new parents’. She looked forward to her secondary education in the city, but she knew well by then, that her uncle had no plans for that. Yet, the realisation that she won’t be seeing the four walls of a classroom soon or perhaps ever again, hurt her deeply whenever she had any free time to let her mind wander. She really hoped to “go to school and make her Mama proud.”


The searing pain around her waist and the pounding headache that had plagued her for almost a week, would not let her dwell on her sorrows, in peace. As she slowly hurled her tired frame to her room, ten year old Ada, secretly wished she could turn back the hands of time. She wished to be back in the village savoring a hot plate of roasted Yam and palm oil spiced with a mother’s love by the open fireside under the moon.

She wondered how fast time went by and changed only the good things. On the bright side, she mused, “I have a whole room to myself here.” “Good things of the city!” she shrugged, with the faintest hint of a smile on her face.


“Ada! Hope you’ve had your bath this evening!?”
From the sitting room uncle Francis’ coarse voice jolted her out of her reverie.
“Yes, Daddy!”

“Good. I don’t want you smelling around my house.”
His sudden interest in her hygiene was strange at first but it amused Ada.

Maybe because she stank like a pig, Uncle Francis didn’t want to unleash her on school children. That must be why she was locked up all day like a hedious foul smelling beast, washing and scrubbing away her odorous existence with each underwear, boxer short, dirty floor and plate she washed.

She had caught some scenes of the fairy tales on TV; Princess Rapunzel, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast. But she was no fool, there was no Prince Charming searching for her.

Still, wondering why or if she smelled so bad, bad enough, to force her uncle to take interest in her personal hygiene and concorting theories and stories based on her distortion of the fairytales she saw on TV was easily the most captivating escape from her reality that her young mind had conjured yet.


“Ooooh God!” she exclaimed.
She picked up her bed sheet. She had forgotten to wash it during the day. She did not relish the thought of using the sheet that night, not with the strange smear on it. It had dried in and left a visible, distinct and irregular shape on the sheet.
It looked like candle wax or Pap smear. She had woken up in the morning, feeling strange aches and sensations around her pelvis. As If that wasn’t strange enough, she noticed the semi viscous fluid, on the sheet. It had become a routine occurrence.

She could still recall vividly, the first time she noticed it about a week ago. It was fresh in her memory because it was the first time uncle Francis barged into her room nagging her to bathe before bed. She was not clothed. She was about to tie her favorite night wear; a wrapper.

It was then uncle Francis walked in without knocking. Ada chuckled, as she recalled the embarrassment she felt in that moment. Uncle Francis fixed his gaze upon her young frame. His eyes darted from north to south of her body.

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