This Life Episode 1

My name is Tata Bala, I live in Kaduna state Nigeria, and the only child to Mr. and Mrs. Bala.I can't say how and when I started digging this ditch that almost became the death of me, I can only tell you one thing.....While digging that ditch/pit, I didn’t make the smart choice of staying outside it while I dug.I remember my first day in queen Amina College, kakuri, Kaduna. I remember how very innocent I was back then. Innocent & curious.My insatiable curiosity back then (even as a child) was my glariest feature, it was the one thing that always got me in trouble I was always exploring and trying new things which were just unbelievable food combinations during the first few weeks I was there There was no stopping me back then - I won’t stop snooping around.Whenever I saw something that ticked my 6th sense, I was sure to follow and find out whether it was something I could try or not.It didn’t take me long to learn about the vicious activities going on in the students' hostels and sometimes even outside school;The secret intake of alcoholic drinks by the seniors, the sneaking out of the school through the fence by both snr & jnr girls...To attend parties (and get laid) outside the school, and of course lesbian activities.I won’t drink or sneak out of school because even in my childish brain I know my parents would skin me alive if they ever find out.

Before the end of my first term in the school, I was adopted by one of the many seniors that wanted me as ‘school daughter’...The beautiful senior Kareemah became my school mother.Snr Kareemah exercised seniority to get everything done for me; she made my mates & even my seniors who were at that time her jnrsWash my uniforms, do my portion etc– to cut the long story short – I enjoyed my js1 days because my school mummy spoilt me rotten.On resuming the 2nd term in js1, senior Kareemah moved me into her corner; she’d cover the down bunk with a blanket draping...draping from the up bunk, making it impossible for eyes outside the corner to see what was going on inside and touch me all over.She'd ask me to do to her everything she did to me – uhmm I will spare you the details.I can't say I felt anything other than discomfort when she did that but I didn’t object to it, I did as I was told.Some nights she will keep me up late and I’ll wake up the next morning feeling all sore and tired, that was taken care of......It was taken care of since she could get someone to do my portion and I didn’t even have to bathe myself.I had all the time to study since everything else was taken care of by my school mum, I always went back home with good results.By the time I wrote my JSSCE exams, I was saying goodbye to school mum no. 3 & was fully aware of what the touching & (mute) was..By the time I started ss1 I was already bored of being chased and so I started chasing my own ‘daughter’ and ‘darling’.

Yes, we courted girls like us the way boys do girls; we buy gifts, we do all the sweet talking and fall in love (or so we thought)Anyway I got so addicted to lesbianism by the time I got into ss2 and I couldn’t go more than 2 days without getting down. Uhmm During holidays I’d meet up with my ‘darling’ in her home or mine and indulge the urge behind closed doors, the circle continued.. When meeting Juju was impossible, I'd just hide in my room and touch myself – I became worse by the day.This continued even after sec sch but it took a different turn. I went from being happy about my escapades to just being desperate Even after 'getting down' I felt so unsatisfied and unhappy, I found myself growing increasingly miserable by the day. Juju got married in our 3rd yr in the university & so my frustration grew– the marriage didn’t stop our dirty affair, we continued I was frustrated because I was sharing her with her husband now. As time went by I grew more frustrated, almost depressed; I’d cry when I can't meet with juju 'cos her husband was around & I needed me some, I’d cry after doing myself & feel unsatisfied Sometimes I’d just cry because nothing. My parents suspected I was havin problems wit my academics & they started asking questions, I always answered with a lie of course My mom thought I was having boyfriend problems in school & decided to have a mother-daughter discussion about boys & relationships A little too late – but I listened with deaf ears of course because boys were far from the reason behind my frustration. Juju later realized that what we were doing was wrong in the sight of God and man and decided to break up with me She advised me to turn a new leaf but I was still in my bubble of immorality, I couldn’t understand let alone accept her advice After that incidence I became very aggressive; I snapped at every little thing, I was withdrawn in my final yr in the university. The day I returned home was the darkest for my parents, it was the first day I ever saw my father’s tears (but not the last). To say that they were disappointed in me would be like saying they ordered vanilla cake & were served chocolate cake – they were shattered. I felt bad but I had needs to satisfy. I waited impatiently for night to fall so I could get down to business while... .. While my mother waited patiently for night to fall so she could talk to me and find out what was disorienting me so. My hypertensive mumpassed out after walking in on me that night & was rushed to the hospital, my father wn’t even look at me. I wished the ground would just open and swallow me. What have I done? A week passed without a word from my father Dad spoke to juju (my closest friend to them) and she didn’t hide anything from him. My mother didn't want to see me near her hospital bed. Dad confided in his best friend who advised my parents to send me to a professional to seek psychological help; a shrink. 1 day Dad came to tell me to tie a straight wrapper and a t-shirt and also pack my toiletries because I was travelling, I obeyed. The men who had come to get me were all in the parlor, each wearing a maka wuya over his shoulders, & holding long prayer beads. “muje ko?” they chorused. I turned to look at my father to at least tell him I was sorry but he'd turned his back so I left. I journeyed with those men to a state where I thought I was going to get help from a therapist, little did I know.. I was going to a local/traditional correction home ‘gidan mari’ to get that much needed help. Life at gidan mari was very difficult but corrective (I will spare you the details), I didn’t leave before getting 'that' help. I suffered but it was worth it. I returned to my parents who had forgiven me even before they decided to send me to "gidan mari" I still asked for their forgiveness and they forgave me. Now lesbianism, like every other addictive ill, can push one to do the most despicable things just to satisfy that evil urge. That brings us to the end of this week’s episode of #ThisLife, we hope you have learnt from the story of Tata. May God almighty help us lead a good life; May God protect our children in all fields of life from the evils of this world.