The thing about being molested is
Nobody believes your side of the story.
Nobody believes that
Your fat comely Uncle with deep
Potbellied laughter resonating around the room
Brought you from the village
To continue your education in the city
Just so he could do such a thing.
You sound like an ingrate
Look at all he had done for you.
Look at his daughter
About your own age and
Could he do a thing that sordid when he has his own?
Look at his wife, she is beautiful
Her plump breasts and buttocks
Looks good enough to care for him
And because no visible scars or
Purple circle under your eyes
From Physical scuffle,
Or bruises between thighs
Your words go unheard.
But deep down you don’t know how
To say that every night your uncle slinks into your room
Tells you to wrap full lips he likes
Around his cock
Suck until he comes,
Else he’d discontinue your education,
Send you back.
He makes your stomach sick
But your mother’s words,
When she said: be obedient to your elders
Don’t do anything to piss or change goodwill.
With tears rolling down your face,
You swallow the vomit.