Ìrètí [Completed]

9| TIRED

"Rape." I say to myself as I glance through the article in the old newspaper I'm going through.

This issue of rape is really bad. I can't even imagine it happening to me. I always pray against it whenever I hear about it or read about it. I always feel for the victims and wonder how they feel. Those that are experiencing it but can't voice out, how do they feel? Even those who voice out and get delivered from it, how do they cope? How do they feel when other people get to know that they've been raped before? In this our society, even if people feel sympathetic towards them, some people will still view them strangely. That mark of being raped before will be on them. The way most people will look at them will change. In their sympathetic gazes, there would still be hints of condescension. How do they cope? Some are strong and put the hurt behind them, working hard for a better life while some are weak and can't just get over it. People tell weak people to become strong but they don't tell them how to or help them do it. Not everyone can become strong without help.

Just like us. My siblings and I. How would people relate with us if they find out our parents were direct cousins? I'm sure the news reporters will be so eager to have an exciting and strange story to report on.

I sigh as I close the newspaper and drop it with the other newspapers neatly arranged on the shelf.

My thoughts are all over the place now. I'm thinking about meaningless things now and I'm trying to divert my attention away from things that might make me sad.

Mother's burial was yesterday. It was a very brief and quiet affair. Mrs. Oyedele took charge of the whole thing. She paid for all the bills in the mortuary and even bought the plot of land where we buried Mother in the cemetery. She bought the coffin and hired the undertakers. She paid for all expenses and took control of it.

The burial was brief. We were just few. My siblings and I, Mrs. Oyedele and Tolu, Mummy Ayo, Baba Ahmed and our other three neighbours. The woman in charge of the school tuck shop that Mother supplies snacks to also attended.

A pastor from our church took charge of the of the burial process.

It was really a sad ceremony but I didn't cry at all. I just watched everything calmly and did all I had to do quietly even when I had to pour sand on the coffin when it was lowered into the ground. Itunu had cried uncontrollably especially when she was paying her last respect and I felt so bad watching my sister in tears. Iyanu also had cried even though he didn't fully understand what had happened. We just told him he would never see Mother again.

Father came towards the end of the funeral but he stood afar, watching everything. He had stared at Itunu and I and looked like he wanted to talk with us but we ignored him. Ever since Mrs. Oyedele took us from our house days ago, we didn't see him until yesterday.

We left without talking to him except Mrs. Oyedele who talked with him for a while. We left him at the cemetery. I don't want to see him for a while.

I'm trying to be strong, to be strong for my siblings. As their elder sister, I have to be always be strong for me and comfort them.

I know Itunu is extremely sad. Though she's no longer crying every time and she has stopped refusing to eat, I know she feels so devastated. She doesn't sleep well at night and she has kept to herself. She's always in the room we stay in, just being alone there and staring into space.

I really don't like seeing her like that. I feel awful too but I must try to look like I'm getting over it all and encourage my siblings.

Mrs. Oyedele has been so good to us. She's really taking care of us and she doesn't behave like we're a burden to her. She brought our few clothes and things from our house for us and even helped us buy some new things. Tolu also has been encouraging. He's always trying to cheer up Itunu and he plays a lot with Iyanu. I really like them and I'm so grateful to them.