My Mom Drove Her Boyfriend Out Of The House But She Didn’t Know The Secret

My mom had my elder sister when she was only eighteen years old. She hasn’t told us what happened, but from what we heard from those who knew, my mom was raped. My grandparents, instead of seeking justice, went for the money and left the man alone to flee. A few weeks later, my mom found herself pregnant, and the child that came out was my sister.

My mom pushed every man away when she was at the ripe age for marriage. She was still hurt and didn’t want a man next to her. My sister was eight years old when I was born. My father is there, but my mom didn’t marry him. I don’t know much about their story. My dad took care of me, sent money for my fees, and sometimes came for me to live with him and his wife.

I was fifteen years old when my mom found herself another man called Dawson. I don’t know where my mom picked him from, but he came to live in our house right from the start. He was trying to be a father to us, so he bought us gifts and took us out. I loved the attention he doled out on me, but my elder sister wasn’t that enthused. She told me often that she only tolerated him.

One evening, I was home alone with him when he entered my room. He came with a dress and new shoes for school. He asked me to try them on. I thought he would go outside so I could put the dress on, but he didn’t, so I wore the dress over the dress I was already wearing. He said, “What are you shy of? I’m your dad. Take it off and put the new one on.”

While my arms were up and taking my dress over my head, he touched my budding breasts and called them beautiful. For some reason unknown to me, I didn’t feel bad about it. I knew he loved me as a daughter, not knowing his intentions were not pure. From that day, he did everything to be alone with me whenever he was in town. He would take me and my elder sister to town, and all through, his attention would be on me.

He entered the bathroom once while I was bathing. He stood there and watched me. He asked if he could join me, and at that very moment, my body started to shiver. My mind hadn’t yet registered the danger, but my body had picked up on it. I said no. I asked him to leave because I was shy. I folded myself into my own arms. He stood there and watched.

I don’t know what happened, but one evening, I went into my room and saw my mom questioning my elder sister if Dawson had made any move on her. My sister said no. Mom insisted that she should tell her the truth, but my sister kept shaking her head. My mom told her, “If he does it at any point in time, tell me.”

Then she stormed out. My sister cried, and I stood there watching her cry but couldn’t say anything to her. Dawson had visited and left. After that conversation, it took months before we saw him in the house again. He came with gifts for us. My mom was there when he gave each of us our gifts. She left with him into her room.

One Saturday, when my mom left for the shop and my elder sister was out to play, he tried getting closer to me with motives, but my sister came back with her friend to diffuse the situation. At this time, I was scared to be alone with him but couldn’t tell anyone.

I was out playing when I saw my mom coming home from the shop. She asked me, “Where’s your sister?” I answered, “She’s in the house.” She screamed at me, “So why are you here when she’s in the house?”

My mom walked briskly, almost running to the house. I followed her. Dawson was watching TV. My mom didn’t even greet him; she went quickly into our room to see my elder sister sleeping. Her dress was off her body a little, so you could see her panties.

My mom woke her up and asked me to leave. She was with her for several minutes. When my mom came out, she went inside with Dawson, and we could hear them arguing very loudly. My sister started crying. She said, “He didn’t do anything to me. Why is mom doing this?”

That very evening, Dawson picked up his bag and left the house. That was the very last time we saw him. My mom suspected he was doing something with my elder sister. She didn’t have any evidence, only suspicion. It could have come from intuition or from her experience. She drove her man out of the house because she suspected the man had something to do with my sister, but the truth is, I was the one the man was chasing around.

I saw my sister defending herself, swearing by heaven and earth that nothing was going on. Even after Dawson had left, my mom still had suspicions. She didn’t hate my sister because of that. If anything, she drew her closer, going everywhere with her and telling her not to go after men. She thought I was too young to attract her man, but I was the one. I couldn’t say it until we grew up.

I confessed to my sister. She screamed, “Wow, so mom was right after all. Why didn’t you tell her when you knew she was accusing me wrongly?” I couldn’t answer that. She asked me if we should tell my mom about it, and I said no. But she told her anyway. My mom cried. She said, “All my life I thought I had driven a good man away because of my own insecurity. It haunted me often. I even wanted to go and apologize to him. So I was right.”

I Left Him Because He Didn’t Help In The Kitchen

She didn’t ask me why, and she didn’t ask me how. She didn’t ask what happened and what didn’t happen. She was content to know that she drove him away before he could carry out his devilish intentions. Sometimes it haunts me too, for not saying it early, but I was only a child—a scared child, for that matter. I’m glad that it ended how it did, and mom could also know the truth eventually, and the truth would set her free.

—Frema

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