Chapter 3 My Story

Deja

I don't always ask my victim why they did it before I kill them and I never will. My name is Deja Bamidele. I'm a twenty-four-year-old Nigerian woman. At the age of nineteen, I left Nigeria for Canada to further my education. Well, that's the main reason my parents think I left.

On the day I turned sixteen, I was sexually assaulted by someone I trusted. That day changed everything about me. The pain from my assault increased when I found out my father had somehow become aware of what happened to me. Instead of using that opportunity to be a supportive father for once since I've known him, he told me to keep my mouth shut and never speak of how I have disgraced the family with my promiscuity.

I was sixteen! And born to strict Nigerian parents, where was the chance to be promiscuous? None!

But Daddy dearest always figured out a way to blame it all on Dejare.

As time went by, I made up my mind that I didn't want to live that way. When I was done with secondary school in Nigeria. I started looking for ways to leave.

After months of researching online and asking different Nigerians who had traveled abroad, I finally had a sufficient amount of information about schooling overseas. So, one day I summoned the courage and told my mum about my plan to travel abroad for university.

My mother told my dad about my plans and after all her persuasion he still said no, like I expected. But I didn't give up. I started saving up money from the hairdressing job I found.

It wasn't a fair income, and at a point, I felt like all the suffering and stress I was going through wasn't worth it.

But every day I woke up and I had to stare into my father's eyes and pretend like I didn't hate him, that motivated me to get the hell out of Nigeria.

After a year I had finally saved up enough money and then some to get my passport done. And I did all these without my parents knowing. Although, I'm sure my mother suspected.

My dad got a new job working for this huge company that seemed to be popular in the United States. They had just finished the grand opening of their new branch in Abuja, Nigeria and my dad got a job there as the head of security for the first floor.

After my eighteenth birthday, I decided to try again. This time I went to my dad personally and I told him that all he needed to do was help with some money for my flight because I was given admission and a scholarship to study in Canada to resume by September. I explained how my feeding and accommodation would be taken care of. But he said no again.

I didn't give up either, I was an angry, and desperate eighteen-year-old.

Angry because I was left with limited options at my disposal. I was angry because the people who were put on earth to protect me were the ones who hurt me the most but I had nowhere to run, no other choice but to wait it out and wait for an opportunity to miraculously present itself.

Which it did.

One day my father came home looking happier than usual. He called me to the living room and told me to have a seat. He started talking about how I need to be a better child and not forget the child of who I am - the usual Nigerian parent advice.

At a point in the discussion, he told my mum to get a glass of water for him which was just code for, "You need to excuse us." After she left to get the water, my father said, and I quote. "No matter where you go in this life, do not ruin the family name more than you have. I wanted a male child but only God our creator knows why he gave you to me. So, Dejare I'll say this again. Do not embarrass this family." My stomach churned with hurt and anger. How am I to blame for my assault? How is your sixteen-year-old daughter getting sexually assaulted, an embarrassment?

I stared at my father with deep hatred and there and then I made a vow to myself. As far as I walk this earth. As far as I'm aware, no man would treat me or any woman the way I have been treated by my father and the person who assaulted me.

Unfortunately, my mother has been undergoing that disrespect from my father since they've been married till now.

The advice finally came to an end when he asked me if my scholarship and admission were still available because he finally had the money to send me abroad for my studies.

I was so excited to have finally found a way out! For the first time since that day, I didn't feel like a prisoner, an embarrassment, I felt free. I was going to have control of my life again and this new phase of my life is going to be good.

My mother was able to get some money for me to go shopping and then September finally came around and I was ready to go. The morning of my departure I couldn't wait to get on the plane. It felt like the more I delayed, something was suddenly going to happen and I would have to go back home causing me to spend the rest of my life living with hatred and pain.

I hugged my mum and that was it. Goodbye, Nigeria.

The plane ride was a reality check - I was hundreds of miles away from home and I didn't care. I was happy.

If only I had known that my decision to travel would change the course of l my life, I don't know what I would have done but I don't think I would be in Nigeria.

I should have asked my father how he got that money. Especially if I had known he signed my life away after he got the money.

Unknown to me, My father had signed an arranged marriage contract on my behalf, without my consent or my wants in mind- with his boss after he was given the money.