Think this is great? Share with your friends!

Nigeria's leading story blog. Inspiring Story, AIDS, Education, Chemistry, Teacher, Abuja, HIV-AIDS, Germany, Dubia, China

Just when I thought my nightmare was over, my chemistry teacher began to ask me to fetch him water. His wives lived in his village in Tangaza, while he lived alone in Sokoto. He visited them every few weeks. “Ina bukatan ruwa, don Allah za ka zo, a kamo ni daga ruwa daga rijiyar da yamma (I need water, please can you come and fetch me some water from the well in the evening),” he would ask of me. At first, it was just water. Then, one evening, he shut the door and pounced on me. He was lightening quick. Before I could react, he was breathing heavily over me. His breath reeked of cold, sour soup while his discolored teeth flashed maliciously at me.

 “Na san ka so da shi, Amina (I know you want it, Amina),” he said sadistically as he devoured my body. I fought hard, but he had his hand over my mouth while the other hand pinned me firmly down. Why me? I wondered. I have never been the type to show off. In fact, I am shy. I keep to myself the best I can. Why would these men seek me out? I wondered as he rocked jubilantly on top of me. As soon as he rolled off, I put my clothes on. I was terribly disgusted and shattered to my bone marrow, but I could not say a word to anyone. “Na san ba ka kasance budurwa. Girls jinni da farko. Ba na son cewa (I knew you were not a virgin. Girls bleed the first time. I don't like that),” he said as I dressed up. His voice was filled with malice and devilish sadism.

I ran out of his house in the teacher’s quarters and headed for the hostel. I found a dogonyaro tree just a short distance from my hostel. I sat down under the tree and cried. I had never felt more worthless. Daggers of pain stabbed brutally at me. When mosquitoes began to feast on me, I rose to my feet, wiped my tears and walked back to the hostel as if nothing had happened. About a week or two later, I began to experience a burning sensation. My Chemistry teacher continued to approach me for another ‘water-fetching evening’, but I ignored him. He threatened to fail me if I did not show up, but not even that would make me budge. I was ready to fail. Nothing really made me happy anymore. I kept the burning sensation to myself, expecting it to go away. I was wrong - the pains got worse, leaving me in an excruciating pain. I would take time in the shower to look at the rashes that had invaded parts of my body.

I feared the worst; HIV-AIDS. I had heard my Biology teacher talk about it. Maybe I should let it kill me, I concluded, having assumed that I had the deadly disease. One evening, the pain got worse. I could no longer take it. I left the school premises and walked towards the general hospital. It was some distance away, but I did not care. I made it there on foot. It was dark when I arrived. The hospital was partially closed. There were nurses attending to patients, but the doctors, pharmacist and lab technicians had left. I knew there were two lab technicians and the pharmacist lived. They were youth corpers who resided in a small bungalow opposite the chief medical officer’s bigger bungalow. I asked the security man for the corpers in case they were still at the hospital. I made sure to avoid nurses. They talked a lot. I did not want words flying around that Amina was infected with AIDS. The security man told me that the corpers had gone home. I walked to their bungalow and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I knocked again, and again. Finally, one of the lab technicians opened the main door. He was shocked to see a young Hausa girl at the door. Afraid that he might get in trouble, he told me to wait. His Hausa was disjointed. I waited. A minute later, he returned with the other lab technician and the pharmacist. One of the technicians spoke better Hausa. My English was not that good, so I was relieved to know that he spoke decent Hausa.

“I think I have…I may have a sexually transmitted disease; maybe AIDS,” I said. They looked at each other and then at me. “Why do you think so?” Asked the pharmacist. The lab technician translated. I explained my recent ordeal to them. They were afraid that someone might think they brought me back to their bungalow. We were standing outside in the open as we discussed. They asked me to return the next day for a test, but I insisted on a test immediately…at least to leave my sample with them. They took me to the lab and had me give them my urine and blood samples. Three days later, I was back. I made sure to go there at night. They had my result ready waiting for me. “Ba ka da AIDS (You don’t have AIDS),” they assured me. I was somewhat relieved. At this point, a part of me wanted to die and leave this world behind. They told me what it was – yes, it was a sexually transmitted disease that I don’t want to talk about here. They gave me drugs for free. Soon, the rashes and sensations began to disappear.

After secondary school, I went to Usman Dan Fodio University to study Education. My secrets followed me, but I was getting stronger, refusing to let anyone mount me like a donkey anymore. I studied aggressively at university to improve on my English. All I wanted to do after my education was to be a teacher. Thankfully, I got a job as a teacher at Nagarata College, one of the most respected secondary schools in the whole of Sokoto State. The former president of Nigeria, Alhaji Shehu Usman Aliyu Shagari studied there. At this point, my father began to pester me to get married soon after graduation. “I have given you everything you wanted. It is time for you to marry. It is getting too late, my daughter,” he would say each time I visited home. Soon, I had a suitor from the neighboring Kebbi State. Everything happened so fast. The Aure (wedding) was glamorous. My husband to be lived in London. He was a medical doctor. After the elaborate ceremony, I was somewhat afraid to be in bed with my husband. My past came back to haunt me.

I was not a virgin…that bothered me to death. Thankfully, he was too tired the night after our wedding. The next day, he and I travelled to Abuja, where he owned a house in Maitama. He is from an influential family. I would not dare mention their family name. My misery was compounded that night. He was eager to return to work in London in a few days, so he wanted to make the most of every moment he had left in Nigeria with me. As soon as we arrived in the house, he cornered me in the bedroom. My heart was beating like a shunting train. I was supposed to be happy…excited, but I was traumatized. The first time was ‘atrocious’. I could see disappointment all over his face. He left the bedroom, walked into the living room and immersed himself in the TV. When I joined him in the living room, he had little interest in me. The next day, he told me that I had fooled him. “How many men have you slept with?” He asked me. I broke down in tears. “You won’t understand, Abba,” I said through a deluge of tears. “I was raped…” “I don’t believe you!!!” He hurled at me. “You went to university and made a mess of yourself.” His words stung like a hornet.

I was sent packing immediately. I left his house brokenhearted. I went to stay with a friend, crying my eyes swollen for weeks. Soon, word began to fly around that I was a whore. My husband divorced me swiftly. Slowly, I managed to find strength to live again. I never left Abuja. I felt alive in the big city. It was a better buffer for me that my small hometown in Sokoto where everyone knew everyone. My father was terribly disappointed. Of course, he began to regret having put me through school. I mustered the courage to narrate my experience to him – all of it!!! He went after Kabiru with a machete. It took the entire village to calm him down. Kabiru ran away…he has not returned ever since. As for me, I am now a teacher in Abuja. I find meaning in what I do – inspiring the younger generation, especially girls. I have refused to marry again. I devote my whole life to my work and my father. He still tends his land and animals. I visit him as often as I can. He still asks me to find a husband. I chuckle at that and carry on. He knows not to try finding me one.

Sometimes, I am still overwhelmed with sadness…sadness that someone robbed me of my childhood and virginity. It hurts even more knowing that it all started with someone who was supposed to look after me. I have days when I want to become a detective and go looking for him, with the intention of putting a knife to his throat when I find him. On other days, I just let it go. My Chemistry teacher eventually died of AIDS. He could not help himself. He continued the same lifestyle and it eventually claimed his life. I’d be lying to say that I was not somewhat delighted to hear of his death. I am still working on letting it all go!

When I see joy, passion for life and desire to live in the eyes of my pupils, it drives me to let go and live each day to the fullest. Recently, I went on a conference to Germany. I have been to Dubai and China as well. What more can I ask for? I love traveling, so when the opportunity presents itself, I hop on the plane and go see more of the world! Maybe someday I will marry again, if I find the right man or if he finds me…maybe never! I won’t sit around and cry though…There is work to be done in our world and life is not all that bad if I do my part with joy!

The above true life story was sent in by Amina Wamako (actual name withheld) and was edited by editorial team. Amina Wamako found us on Facebook and after reading some of our stories decided to share her story with us. Please be kind enough to leave an encouraging word for Amina. Thank you.


If you like this story, please could you share it on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Pinterest ETC.

...also don't forget to leave a comment on our blog, we love to read from you. You will find the comment box at the base of every story page. Thanks! for breathtaking stories and exciting articles, every day!!!

NOTE: The contents on this site are the intellectual property of the writers. No permission has been granted for the reproduction of our contents to any individual or to any organization, in part or whole on any platform, electronic or otherwise.

Poster Source: claims no credit for any images posted on this site unless otherwise noted. Images on this blog are copyright to its respectful owners. If there is an image appearing on this blog that belongs to you and do not wish for it appear on this site, please E-mail with a link to said image and it will be promptly removed.




Action Comedy Epic Horror Inspiring Podcasts Romance Series Short Stories slider Story Videos
item An African Literary Blog: SHATTERED TRUST - Episode 2
Nigeria's leading story blog. Inspiring Story, AIDS, Education, Chemistry, Teacher, Abuja, HIV-AIDS, Germany, Dubia, China An African Literary Blog
Not found any posts VIEW ALL Readmore Reply Cancel reply Delete By Home PAGES POSTS View All RECOMMENDED FOR YOU LABEL ARCHIVE SEARCH ALL POSTS Not found any post match with your request Back Home Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat January February March April May June July August September October November December Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec just now 1 minute ago $$1$$ minutes ago 1 hour ago $$1$$ hours ago Yesterday $$1$$ days ago $$1$$ weeks ago more than 5 weeks ago Followers Follow THIS CONTENT IS PREMIUM Please share to unlock Copy All Code Select All Code All codes were copied to your clipboard Can not copy the codes / texts, please press [CTRL]+[C] (or CMD+C with Mac) to copy