You won’t tell God

By Timi Abdulsalam. Timi, 14, is a student at Nobles International School. He lives in Eket, Nigeria. Please read his article and leave your thoughts and comments below.

“What if someone does a few bad things?”

“No, girl, you have to be good; do only good,” Mum said, looking straight at your eyes. She knew how daring you had become ever since you told her about how you beat up a bully at school.

“Only good?”

“Yes. Only good.” She then paused to see if you would try to keep talking, then she added, “God demands only good from you. You cannot trick him.”

“What if God doesn’t see me?” you questioned.

That was it – the last piece of evidence any detective needs to put cuffs on your wrists.

“Stop scaring me,” she huffed. “You’re a good child. Stop acting like you’re preparing to do something bad.”

“Okay mum.” You turned to go. Your mind was made up now. You were not going to tell her anymore of how Uncle raped you. This will not be a sin, you thought, as you took a knife from the kitchen and headed for his house.

*         *         *

You went through the bushes so you would not pass by Dad’s shop and have him send you back home.

“Teacher said that minus multiplied by minus is equal to plus,” you said to yourself as you hurried. “So two wrongs will definitely cancel each other out.”

You were the only one in that bush, you were sure. No, you were not; especially as it was not only your footsteps, and the chirping of birds, that could now be heard. But it was okay, it was not too frightening.

“Yes, two wrongs will…” – you wanted to convince yourself before you heard footsteps approaching from behind you, at a very quick pace.

“Okay, this is it. I’m dead.” You did not turn to look back yet. You sprinted as fast as adrenaline could carry you. You kept running for only a few seconds before you turned to look back, and then you wished you did not.

It was a dog – a big, white, overgrown puppy with visible incisors – coming at you fast. Then you looked back again and it was few meters away already. You thought of stopping to face it, but who are you, a big fat, overgrown girl? You had now fallen to the ground. It kept coming, straight at you. You took the knife that was meant for Uncle’s belly and waited for it to come pouncing. Then you drove the knife into its throat; pushed it away with your legs, and saw it make loud throaty sounds.

You moved away from it and hid yourself, in case the other wild dogs came seeking for revenge; the same reason why you were going through this bush.

“This is a second wrong. Damn!” you muttered to yourself. Well, if God did not see this happen, you will not tell him.

There was a relative silence, so you decided to come out of hiding and scurry away. That was when you saw the dog’s eyes open up wide. If it had recovered and come at you, who would have told your story?

7 comments on “You won’t tell God

  1. Suleiman Joe on

    Very, very beautifully told story. I love it. I love it. Well-done. It got me thinking of how much I need to listen to my children.

    Reply
  2. Rachel Ayodele on

    I feel somehow most times when my child returns from school and talks only about her uncle (that is what male teachers are mostly called in Nigeria). I want to question her, but I begin to feel that I may be going to far.

    We had a talk sometime ago that resembles the one in this narrative. Now I’m scared.

    Thank you, Abdulsalam.

    Reply

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