He was an elderly cousin who lived with us for a while to learn the making of soy products and kebab from my Dad to help rebuild his life after he dropped out of school. He always got drunk and chased unkempt ladies of his caliber in the neighborhood. That day, he was seriously fused with drunkenness and made his usual lewd remarks of how he’d marry me and a whole lot of nonsense-carnal-talks. He entered my room for the first time with the two of us alone in the house. My parents were out and were scheduled to return in the evening.
I was quite uncomfortable in his presence but kept a ‘straight mind’ to be accommodating. I panicked when he tried locking my door. He always talked about having sexual feelings for me even when he wasn’t on alcohol and how he’d ‘hit it (have sex with me)’ one day if he had a clear chance to execute. Moreover, he entered with his belt unbuckled and leering eyes so I thought to myself “Today is execution day”. I pushed him out of the way to run towards the main door. I got there to realize he had already locked it. Fear began to breed in me as my mind revolved around any possible danger he had planned.
I started screaming but nobody could hear me from outside. Nobody came to my rescue. I ran to the kitchen to get a knife to threaten him but he didn’t seem scared to stay back. He fearlessly kept walking towards me. I had no other alternative plan of escape from this forthcoming menace. I struggled to break free from him but I wasn’t successful. He then went ahead to strangle me while the knife was still in my hands with its apex pointing up.
In the course of the struggle, I mistakenly pushed the knife into him. I quickly left the house to our neighbors after taking the keys to the main door from the floor. I didn’t tell them what just happened. I was scared and didn’t think anything bad could happen. My desire to break free didn’t prompt me to check if he bled or not. I came back much later when my parents had returned and narrated the story to them. My cousin laid down in a pool of blood covering almost every floor-space in the kitchen. “Is he dead” I asked myself.
I cried and felt apologetic for what I had done. I couldn’t contain myself anymore nor carry the guilt. But what other choice of escape did I have? I was fourteen years of age and didn’t want to be a victim of sexual assault. Before this incident, I always told myself if I ever got into such situation, I will “pee” or “poo” on myself to deter the offender but I couldn’t remember a thing as this took place. I feel a lot of regret because when I think about it, he was drunk. Maybe I could have found another way? Allowed him to ‘hit it’? No way! “What if I get pregnant” I thought to myself. “Or what if I had told my parents about his usual erotic assertions. Maybe he could have been warned and this wouldn’t have happened”.
I couldn’t sleep alone for months because I saw him in my dreams almost every night. I was mentally unstable for a while than the result of his assault would have caused me. I was caught up in a stream of numerous “what ifs” and “buts”. Deep within, I couldn’t forgive myself neither could I have opted to allow him have a forceful sexual advantage of me. I have overcome the experience highly than before. The haunting dreams have stopped. I think about it occasionally and I’m no longer afraid but I feel sorry to be the cause of another man’s demise.
© 2017 Eben Ace