# UNLOCKEDI
 
It's a joy to see so many young ladies sitting together and interacting.I must commend the planning committee of this program for making it a great one.
 

 
I don’t think I’m worthy to be one of the guests on this program, but as God may have it, here I am today. My name is Okonkwo Obioma, and I am a student at Nnamdi Azikiwe University in Awka, Anambra State.
 
I was stranded the day I came to school to write my aptitude test. Due to some technical issues from the ICT center, we couldn’t start and finish the exams on time.
 
I started looking for my black goat at night because I had no plans for where to pass the night earlier.
 
I took a bus to the famous school gate, but where to go from there was a question my head didn’t have an answer to.
 

 
While standing at the gate, the thought of passing the night in a hotel room didn’t occur to me because my thoughts were limited to my pocket size.
 
The only thought my mind could buy then was to go back to the school premises and take cover in one of the school hostels or maybe in an empty classroom. 
 
My head was already filled with thoughts on what the night would look like in an empty classroom.
On turning back to find my way back to the school premises, I crashed into a tall and good-looking guy.
 
"Sorry" was the only thing I could say at that moment. I was unable to look at him in the face. I could be regarded as the shy type then.
 
"You look stranded and worried. I hope your exam went well. " He asked while standing with a young girl who is about the same height as me.
 
I replied, "Exam was fine, just  that..." All of a sudden, I was stammering.
 
"Just that what... what’s the problem?" he asked. I don’t know where to go from here; it’s too late to start going home and I don’t have anywhere to pass the night.
 
He smiled and said, "Don’t worry, you can pass the night in my place if you’ll be okay with it." He introduced himself as Stanley. 
 
I was very skeptical about his offer, but he said that the young lady standing beside him was his cousin, who had taken the same aptitude test as me and would be passing the night in his place. So both of us can have his room while he sleeps at his friend’s place. 
 
What I had been looking for in Lagos was what I got at my doorstep, and it’s only a fool that would refuse to eat the meat that was thrown into his or her mouth.
 
I quickly accepted his kind offer and went home with them, spent the night there, and traveled the next morning. 
 
We exchanged contacts with each other, so we started getting along on Whatsapp chat. He always told me that it was my beautiful look that got his attention, so he used "worried and stranded" as a pick-up line.
 
That’s how I started to get closer and closer to this guy. I mean, do I have an option? Someone that housed me when ideas of "what next to do" deserted my head.
 
Finally, the great news came: I was admitted to my course of choice, but we all know what it takes to be a first-year student. I mean, the financial requirements were very heavy. My family was able to raise my acceptance and school fees, but what happens to my accommodation? 
 
Stanley has told me several times before now that I can come and stay with him until I’m able to get a house for myself, but how do I explain to my parents that a guy wants to accommodate me? A guy that I barely knew seemed to be a nice guy for the little period I stayed with him.
 
This was me trying to convince myself to go stay with Stanley. 
I lied to my parents that my friend said I should come and stay with her until I’m ready to settle down on my own.
 
They didn’t have an option other than to let me go because, as our people will always say, "He who holds someone to the ground holds himself." Yes, they can not ask me to stay back since they can’t afford to provide one for myself.
 
So I left to stay with Stanley in school. 
Every day at his house was like a honeymoon. He didn’t allow sand to get to my body. Sometimes he drags the kitchen with me and insists on making the food we eat.
 
Stanley was very intelligent to the extent that he helped me with most of my schoolwork, but I disliked one of his lifestyles, and I could not change him. Rather, he influenced me with that.
 
The first time I indulged in that lifestyle was the first time he had his way into me. He was the first man I gave my body to, and I did not regret this act because I felt Stanley’s love and care were enough to have his way, but I regretted smoking and drinking with him that day because it became part of our lifestyles after that day.
 
Most of the time we don’t go to school, we stay back at home just to smoke, drink, and have sex. Things I was afraid of doing before became part of my daily routine."'
 
At first, chewing gum tastes so sweet but loses its sweetness over time as you chew it. Things started getting sour; Stanley started staying up late, hanging out with strange people, and coming back drunk.
 
The first time I tried to figure out what was going on with him was the first day he raised his hands on me. His habit of hitting me continued after that day.
 
I wouldn’t have been standing here with you if not for Baron. Baron is the only guy who can stop him whenever he raises his hands to beat me.
Whenever he overheard me shouting and crying, he would run down to our room, knowing fully well that Stanley was at it again. I was living like someone that was locked up in a prison. 
 
A place that was not suitable for me, but yet, I couldn’t leave because I had nowhere to go. I've had several abortions for this guy, and I've given him everything I've got as a lady, and now I see what I've gotten myself into.
 
Until one night, he came back messed up. As soon as he entered the house, the fragrance of the room changed.
At first, I could not trace the smell to a particular thing; cigarettes, drinks, sweats, and at some point, I perceived urine.
 
I could not hold myself anymore and before I could finish what I was saying, he pounced on me like a hungry lion. I could not defend myself.
 
All I knew was that I woke up in the Baron's room with patches and scars on my body.
 At that point, I took my things to the baron's house and started staying with him, at least for a while, because the bush where a child got a snail is where his eyes are drawn to.
 
Baron had been my saviour all this time. 
 
Staying with Baron wasn’t a bed of roses either, but at least he didn’t raise his hands on me, and the rest still felt like I was in Stanley’s house.
 
The Baron had his way. Yes, he had sex with me while I was staying there. After all, you can't expect a goat to not eat yams if you leave it in a room full of them.
 
At some point, I thought this was a plan by both friends trying to take turns on me, but then, this is someone that rescued me from the hands of Stanley. 
 
How I got through this period was still a source of ambivalence for me: leaving someone I care about for his friend, even sleeping with this friend, but was I the one who forced Stanley to start living this way, or was he pretending to be someone he wasn't to get off my pants?
 
All these were questions and thoughts that crossed my mind as the day went by. 
 
I used to ask God, "Is it in my favor?" I was trying to make noodles for lunch when I heard Baron shout. I rushed to the room and found him shedding tears like a child that had lost the key to his parent’s house.
 
This was the first time I saw him cry. Hmm, something must have happened. I need to know where water entered the stalk of the pumpkin. 
 
I asked him in a calm voice, but he didn’t reply. Then, as I was about to leave for the kitchen, he said, "Stanley is dead." He was shot dead along ifite-Awka road.
 
Stanley dealt with me, but that’s not enough to be happy because he was late. He was very nice to me. Both of us cried until tears became part of our faces because there was no one to console us.
 
The next day, Baron left the house as early as 5 a.m. for an unknown destination and said he’d be back when situations in Awka were calm. This was when I knew that I had been eating, dining, and sleeping under one roof with cultists because it takes only a cultist to stop one.
 
Oh, this was why Baron was the only person who could save me from Stanley whenever he acted inhumane. 
 
All the mistakes that I had made were echoing so loudly in my ears that my eyes could not contain my tears anymore. I didn’t know where to go from here because staying in this house made me one of them.
 
I could not go home. What should I tell my parents? I finally resorted to our campus fellowship, where I narrated the same story to them. 
They accepted me as one of their own and have housed me to this day.
 
I’m still on the path to correcting my wrongs, appreciating myself better, and letting go of past habits and addictions.
 
Today, I want to ask you:
who are you staying with on campus?
 
Who are your friends? 
 

 
Parents, where is your daughter or ward today?
Just like most girls who are about to make such mistakes, I gave my parents and every other person the impression that I was fine and everything was alright.
 
Secondly, I hid my scars and endured this pain in silence due to fear of humiliation, rejection, or whatever spirit it was that held me down.
 
Young girls should be given the orientation to always be bold enough to speak up.
Speak up and cry out for help before it gets out of hand.
 
Every 1 in 3 women worldwide have experienced physical and/or sexual violence in their lifetimes, and this can only prevail when young girls are afraid to take necessary precautions. 
 
 
If you like what you read, please share this post. You might be saving a life. 
 
Ernest Onyedikachi Maxwell.
 
# StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTellingChallenge # StoryTelling