My siblings and I were hoarded us like a mother hen does her chicks. You dare not be seen outside when my dad returns from work. Our neighbours living in the next were all male police men. Little wonder the protective measures; what more for someone that had 3 young girls.
Despite all these, any little time we get, we go visit the occupants of the next flat. I was only a child who saw “a father” in some of the men living in the next flat. Never in my innocent mind did I envisage that the one I saw as a grown up fellow was not really what i thought. On one of such visits, the so called man started little games with a nine year old child. Call it sexual abuse, you will be right. He started fingering this child.
Thank goodness he never went beyond that. And funny enough, this little baby wasn’t complaining even though he was hurting her. And she didn’t even think to tell mama or papa. Whenever she visits and he gets any opportunity alone with this baby, he carries out his devilish act. How could she was being abused sexually.
Somewhere along the line, he stopped and then got transferred out of the state.
Fast forward to my early days in secondary school, JSS 1 -2 thereabout, the father of one of my classmates offered to help drop me off at home from school, only for him to start caressing my laps with teasing remarks “you have fresh laps o, what cream do you use? I told him Vaseline. I became way too uncomfortable and amazed at the same time with him his display of shame. I couldn’t even tell him to stop. I was too timid to stop him. I was more concerned with him not getting angry or embarrassed if I confronted him. I wished I had the boldness I had now back then. Na slap for follow am go house.
Then, I wasn’t perturbed by both men’s actions. But growing up and coming to terms with the gravity of their actions filled me with disgust for them. Whenever I think about the first scenario painted above, my emotions vary from anger to disgust to shame to fear; fear of the little ones coming behind me. Fear of every child out there. Fear of someone taking advantage of their innocence. Fear of pedophiles on rampage. I thought I had gotten over the emotions provoked by these thoughts until this campaign. I still remembered how I wept within me while I was in a bus some weeks back. I couldn’t cry out before people will start asking questions. The tears had already formed threatening to force its way out of my eye balls but I held them back in till it was subdued.
My little princes and princesses are not sex objects.thats not who God made them. they are made for more.
No one is a sex object and none should be treated as such.
not your employees.
not your colleagues male or female. not your students.
not your sons and daughters, and certainly, not the little innocent children.
I strongly believe Sex is beautiful and meant to be explored in its fullness only in the confines of marriage.
It’s high time we see people in the light of whom God made them to be.
Let our young ones know they are not instruments of sexual gratification.
Teach them dignity!
Teach all the they need to know about their body makeup.