He was my school father, the one who promised to take care of me in an all-boys seminary school. At the time, he was the hostel captain. I knew nothing, as I was barely 13 or so and in JSS2. But I was brilliant and as beautiful as a teenage girl. Along the line, my school father started making dirty passes at me: he'd make me stay behind in the hostel, while my classmates were rallied on the assembly ground for one function or the other. Then he'd forcefully kiss me, trap me on the bed and suckle my nipples. Once, I begin to scream really loud, he'd let me go, but it would take time before he came around. Then he'd repeat it from time to time and I would always get sick after each abuse. It was when I threatened to report to the school authorities that he stopped, and kept a distance, because the school usually expelled students when caught. But he took another beautiful boy in, who currently is confused sexually. Another senior boy, one day, on the stairs, while I was coming down from night devotion, dragged me to a dark corner, and forcefully kissed and touched me all over. I felt so dirty and ashamed, and I cried myself sick. I wasn't bold enough to report to my parents or school authorities, but I kept pushing for change of school.
One other senior boy, who was the refectorian at the time, came for me. I threatened to report him if he as much as try anything funny with me. I was a little exposed then, in my JSS3. One night, while everyone was asleep, he crept to my bedside, creamed my thigh, my buttocks and all around that region. Maybe he wanted to mount me or penetrate me, I don't know. But as I jerked up, I saw him flee, and noted exactly where he hid. I went over there, saw him whimpering and pleading that I shouldn't implicate him. I don't know why, but I didn't report him. Instead, I became sick, was taken home, hospitalized for days and my parents, perhaps, sensed something was going on about me, decided to change me from the seminary to a mixed boarding school. But my life had changed already. I feel sick at the slightest touch by another man. I became disturbed, withdrawn and depressed. I would rather sleep on the bare floor than with a fellow male student. I didn't have friends, definitely not a guy. The aroma of that particular cream that guy used on me makes me throw up. My life just changed.
In 2008, after the demise of my parents, a Christian organization sent me to a camp meeting, which my parents worked with. It was a very huge pastors conference, with over 20,000 delegates yearly from around the world. I went alone. I stayed on my own. The first night, while eating in the cafe, a nicely dressed man walked up to me and we got talking. Soon, he had made me narrate to him a few stories about me, especially the demise of my parents. He sounded concerned and promised to be a brother to me. He's a pastor from Lagos and a bank manager. He decided right there to be paying in 5k into my account for upkeep, pending when I will get into the university, which he promised to sponsor as well. I was excited. He told me to leave the public hostel and stay with him in the suite he paid for. I didn't even give it a second thought: he said he is a pastor and my brother. I forgot my past experiences and joined him to this suite. Mr man, at midnight, started touching me. I was shocked. I was a little more confident then. I held his hand away frommy body and made to leave the room, but he had locked it. I cried and cried. He kept pinning me to a point in the room, touching my thigh and kissing me. He hit me several times, but I refused to let him have his way. Somehow, he stopped, started crying and confessed how he got possessed in the university and craves for men. I just folded myself on the floor until morning, and I left that place. I stayed through the camp, but whenever I saw him something in me would be bitter. I would cry. I would be sick. I would cry. Later I was admitted in UNTH Enugu, due to a gunshot injury I sustained to my femoral left thigh. I was very friendly with all nurses, but one particular nurse Azu, a guy, came really close. He gave me attention which some other patients envied. My cousin, who was staying with me, was not very comfortable, but we later agreed that Nurse Azu is just being kind. Soon he started massaging me,claiming that somewhere in my folder, I needed to be massaged to avoid muscle damage. I let him. Soon he started coming to my bedside very early, around 4am, to massage me. His entire job on me became massage. I couldn't understand that, but I was calm. Soon, he left my thigh and came up to my penis. The first morning he did that, I did not confront him, but I told my cousin that I am no longer enjoying the massage. Another time, he massaged my thigh, got to my penis and began stroking it. I jerked up, grabbed his hand and called out for my cousin. But before he could understand what I was trying to explain, Nurse Azu had fled. For more than two weeks, we he didn't come to work. I was traumatized. Again, I became sick. The doctors were shocked and wondered how I could become sick all of a sudden. They thought it was an infection in the ward and transferred me to another ward. Now, I don't know why men have been trying to go down with me. I behave like a boy, a withdrawn boy. These experiences affected my relationship with fellow guys to the extent that I still don't let guys touch me. I can't rub cream on my body. I can't sleep on the same bed with a guy. I get sick when any of this happens. My worry is that my little brother attends an only boys secondary school, and I can't imagine him going through such kinds of molestation from people and still keep mute about it.
My advice to him and every growing boy is never to bottle up painful experiences.
Is your kid strangely pushing for change of school without any pronounced real excuse? Take it serious