A Good Girl

He had only been in the country for a few months, the sharp whip the winter winds slashed across his cheeks were nothing like his brother had told him back home. The continuous Nigerian heat ensured a good mood most of the time, and it was only since landing in London that it became quite clear why the people of London were what he considered to be bloody miserable.

She had a lovely round face and a smile that left twinkles in his eyes – completely lovable. She laughed the most contagious laugh, which had a hint of a snort at the end when he tickled her in the spot in her right armpit. She squealed, kicked her legs, threw her head back and revealed a faint dimple in her right cheek.

If only she wasn’t five years old, he often told himself.


He was my friend. Mummy and daddy go to work all day. He takes me to school and picks me up too. He can’t cook, so sometimes we have McDonald’s if Mummy didn’t leave something for us in the kitchen. I always wanted a big brother, but I don’t tell him my secrets. You can’t tell secrets to big people. They tell other big people and then you get into trouble. You get smacked on the bum, or you have to stand with your hands up against the wall for days and days. And you shouldn’t cry, because if you cry you will get into bigger trouble, and get more smacks on your bum, and maybe have to carry books as more punishment.

But I’m a good girl. I don’t tell big people my secrets. I like Wasiu because he tells me jokes, and he tickles me. Daddy doesn’t tickle me. Daddy is so busy with work. He doesn’t play with me. Sometimes he smiles – if he isn’t too tired. That’s only sometimes though. But Daddy wouldn’t hurt me. Or tell me to see him like that.

Wasiu did. I don’t know why. Maybe I had been naughty – maybe it was a new punishment for being naughty. But I don’t remember doing anything naughty to him. Mummy had always told me to knock before going to the bathroom, because the bathroom is a private place – where we use the toilet and wash our special parts. I didn’t understand when Wasiu called me into the bathroom. I thought maybe he was stuck. Don’t we shout when we are stuck? He didn’t shout, but I still thought he needed help, so I went.


8 thoughts on “A Good Girl

  1. This story was just illustrative of the fact that things happen that some communities would rather not talk about. I have another one brewing along the same lines, but it’s even less pretty and will make some people feel sweaty under the collar. But the truth is that although the characters may seem fictional, the situations are real in the lives of some out there. *sigh*


  2. Haunting, you’ve written it so beautifully I thought I was there. God, I felt like throwing up. I’ve met so many people who have been abused and are too ashamed and scared to say anything, meaning the pedophile will just do it again to somebody else. It also taught me never to leave my kids with anyone except those I trust completely; even if I don’t have that option I will find a way to always put my child first. I’m not blaming anyone, just saying what I promised myself long ago.


    • I hear what you’re saying, sis, but research has shown that children are most abused by someone in their family. Can you imagine? I know I didn’t illustrate it very well, but in this story Wasiu is actually a distant cousin of the little girl. Scary thought, huh?


  3. Well, I was excited to know that you were intending to write up what I first thought would be ‘easy reading’, hmmm, I should of known better lol. Inciteful, harming, stomach churning, let me at ‘im type of stuff. Considering my Social Work education and the many adults and children I’ve had to work with, that have been subjected to such abuse you think I could read this easily…NEVER! More awareness needs to be raised, keep up the good work sis, forever a fan xXx


  4. suspense!!! This is a typical example of what happens these days, I pray by the time u finish the story, the lovely 5yr old act wouldn’t fall a victim*sad face*….I wish for a happy ending


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