How I met Big Daddy Jake

Last week, I gave some background information about where I’m from and how the journey to my sorry present started. (You can read that here: https://www.nairaland.com/3101296/how-started-life-street-hustling ) Today, I’ll talk about the most painful episode of my childhood. Please read on.

Why would anyone call him Big Daddy?! Even though I was only 10 years old when I met Big Daddy Jake, I was smart enough to know he doesn’t deserve the name. A tiny, kind of shrunken slightly disheveled man, Big Daddy looked liked he was in his 50s even though I later got to know he was only in his late 30s. Big Daddy Jake can’t be more than 5ft 5. Very small for a man called Big Daddy I must emphasise again. As the weeks went bye however, I clearly understood why Aunty Debbie fondly called him that name. That understanding came at around 1am one very cold night.

I slept early that night maybe because I ate the popular Nigerian fufu and egusi soup, it was quite tasty. Even when everybody was in the sitting room chatting and laughing away their time, I sneaked into my room, but I noticed that Big daddy winked at me – I never knew he had a nocturnal intention.

So that night, I woke up to take a pee and I heard the squeaking of a door, or was it a door opening and closing? I just heard the sound of a door. I ignored it and went back to bed. After a little while, I noticed something was scanning my arm.

“Oooooooooooooooo, all these mosquitoes would start again, I cannot afford to light another mosquito coil, No!” I thought.

The tickling by the mosquitoes moved up my breast and I knew there was not going to be sleep again, as these mosquitoes were hell bent on giving me ‘unwanted’ sensations. But I was not interested in lighting a mosquito coil that night. The last time I did, it caused a catarrh.

It seems the mosquitoes understood my thoughts and, left me for a while. But they came back more determined. This time it was inside my skirt, and I too was determined to get the catarrh than lose sleep this very sweet night.

So I turned on a candle and as I turned to get the coil where it was kept I saw a figure before me and as I attempted to scream, my mouth was closed.

“Don’t shout joor! I heard your rumblings about the mosquitoes and I decided to come help you”.

I was dumbfounded. I just glared at him. Didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

“Don’t worry about the mosquitoes, let’s just go to your bed, there is something I want to show you”.

In my astounded-ness, he took me to my bed and started saying things I can’t even remember because I was still trying to understand what was going on.

When he noticed that I was not quite listening, he shook me then started explaining why he loved me. At this point, I spoke.

“Big Daddy, how did you get…?”

“Don’t worry about that, I would tell you later”.

He then started playing with my lap, moved up my chest, came back down my skirt. It was at this point I felt the same mosquito sensation but I just thought it was not right, so I resisted. He removed his hands but replaced them almost immediately. When I resisted again, he told me I would love it and should stop struggling.

I tried to cry out but he advised me not to alert other people especially my aunt, who does not sleep too well at times. It was then I remembered how she dealt with me the last time I went to school without washing the plates.

When he noticed I was now restful, he put his hands inside my skirt, the other hand he used to rub my chest. It was an interesting sensation; I did not like it but couldn’t shout for fear that my aunt was going to use odo (pestle) on my head.

He continued this for a while, then in a swift move, removed his worn out boxers and asked that I remove mine too. He eventually did it himself as I was motionless. Now, I was both dumbfounded and scared.

“What was happening?” I thought.

He started licking my body, his finger back in my skirt. After less than two minutes, I noticed he was trying to insert something bigger than his fingers, I resisted again, he reminded me of my aunty. I again remembered her ‘wicked’ ways of dealing with me, and freed my body.

Continue Here: http://vibes.ng/diary-hustling-single-girl-episode-2/

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