One day, I [email protected]£ across Daniel who was my school father back at the school I attended in Lagos. I saw him at the university of Port Harcourt. I had gone to hand something to my uncle, aunty Mary’s husband who worked as a professor there. He was the one who saw me first and called out to me. I remember having mixed emotions when seeing him. I wasn’t sure if I was to be happy or sad or angry. It was just strange seeing him after a very long time. He looked really different. He kept a nice hair cut with a well-trimmed beard. He certainly didn’t look like the boy of yesterday. I mean this was about three years ago since the last time I saw him. He gave me an awkward hvg and smiled at me for a while before speaking up. He asked so many questions from where I had been, what had happened and when I arrived Port Harcourt. I only told him that I had moved and started a new life after the death of my parents. He showed his condolence and made a joke in order to ease the tension that alre-ady formed in the air. He told me that he had just recently arrived Port Harcourt to continue his higher education. I didn’t tell him about my babies nor uncle Sam. I avoided anything leading to questions I wasn’t re-ady to answer. I spoke to him about a few other things before letting him know that I was on an errand. He asked for my contact but I couldn’t give him any because I didn’t have at the moment so the last thing he said to me before I left in a hurry was; “I’ll see you some other time, Meso. Take care.”
Many times I had cried to God, tears of thanksgiving because he had given me a second chance. Yes! I was abused by a man who was supposed to be my uncle but I had also given him the opportunity to do the many things that he did to me. I was manipulated, deluded and abused but because I was blinded by what I thought to be love at such a young age, I put myself at risk and caused a lot for myself. Even when I was [email protected]£d by this same man, I still let him into my life because I believed he would slowly heal the wounds that he had caused me. I gave myself to a per-verted man who used me to fulfill his own plea-sure. The many lies that then, seemed like they were genuine. I used to look at him like a father, a good-hearted uncle, a loving and caring man because he in the past, was always there for me, my family and had good intentions. I didn’t know what went wrong and the unexpected happened. If he was still alive, the nons-en-se could have continued and maybe things would have gotten out of hands. Each time I look at my babies, I remember the day a mistake began. I remember the man whose own relatives didn’t want to remember. I think and think of the many explanations I would give to my babies but each time I hold them close to my che-st, they remind me of the second chance I obtained and I never cease to thank God..