Words Not Said

1

Dearest Mama,

As a boy, you always told me to keep shut that as time grew, I would learn to figure things out on my own.

You warned me to never talk about family to outsiders, yet you never heard me out, you always complained of what I did and did not do.

Dare I mention Papa? He was hardly ever at home, but He never failed to leave us with scars.

Thankfully Sister Becky went to off to school in Ondo state and hasn't steppedfoot in this house ever since.

At 15, Mr. Tomiwa, my mathematics teacher, suggested that I see the school counselor, Miss Janet. He said she would help me with my constant gloomy looks and now falling grades.

At our first meeting, I barely said anything as your sound warnings kept on ringing in my head. At the second meeting, she did not talk much also.

Instead she gave me her phone to play games while she kept on watching me like a hawk.

At the third meeting which was the following week, she gave me her phone again, but this time slipping in a few questions here and there, which I answered with as few words as possible.

I got what she was trying to do, and it was pretty nice of her. Or maybe she was just trying to do her job.

Several sessions after, we got to talk more and I felt more open towards her.

Miss Janet never failed to compliment me. She called me handsome, smart and strong.

Although I did not know where the 'strong' part of it was coming from, considering the fact that I told her all about Papa's constant abuse and even showed her some of the scars I hid using the school cardigan.

She told me that Papa only does that to make me stronger, it did not make that much sense to me, but somehow I trusted her words.

Sometimes she would make consoling gestures when I became sad, rub my arm or pull me in for a long hug and sometimes she would touch me in places and ways that made me feel insecure.

I was getting a bit of attention so what did it matter?

She told me you loved me, she told me you cared. And then felt me up in ways that I only knew of when you still gave me baths.

So I figured out that if you were the only person to ever touch me like that and she had previously mentioned that you loved me, then she must love me even more if she was doing this even without giving me a bath.

It made me feel happy. I felt important to someone.

That day I came back home happy, I couldn't wait to tell you all about Miss Janet.

I guess I fell asleep while waiting for your return because I remember waking up to loud crashing sounds and Papa's voice echoing through the corridors.

Sometimes I wonder if he's trying to bring the house down then I felt the sadness rushing in all over again.