Child Abuse – A Touching Story of Sunday, A native of Abeokuta.
Daily, I hear people around me mention violence acts here and there. Some ending up to the loss of lives even at the expense of shattering their dreams at an early stage. Sometimes, the outburst of pain growing deep down the minds of those betrayed seems not to have an ending even when their hopes of living happy and gaining freedom now sounds like a dream or wish not coming forth to reality.
The fact that children whom are being taken to unknown locations both home and abroad with the mindset of making it big in that society where they moving to, now end up having a different storyline at the end of the day.
My ordeals with house-helps seem to give me a reason to express my dissatisfaction as regards the whole scenario. I easily could recall vividly how one had a narrow escape during the sojourn of his life journey. The thoughts of Sunday Kediri, a native of Abeokuta (Kuto) wouldn’t even give me a choice other than sharing a part of his ordeal in Life.
At the early years of his childhood, age 10 to be precise, Sunday had been left with no options other than setting out of his abode for greener pasture even out of his own will.
While narrating his ordeals, Sunday mentioned how the whole event began way back from his hometown where he was enticed with just a set of toys and his parents were given the sum of N20,000 that year for so-called upkeep.
The only positive message they used in getting their attention (i.e. his parents) was that they could make him i.e. their son; secure a good education, proper upbringing, comfortable abode, nutritious food and well-trained family who would adopt him and sponsor him all through till he becomes a full grown man.
Their terms went further in stating that at the end of each month, his parents were entitled to the sum of N50,000 to cater for their needs at home. However, on the condition that they won’t for once have the thought of visiting him for whatsoever the cause may pose to be. He said the mother couldn’t have agreed easily except for his father who remained adamant on heeding to their agreement. Since he wasn’t even financially stable to cater for the rest of his siblings (6 in total).
The journey overseas now becomes an interstate type. The then Sunday to whom his parents had been convinced of moving abroad now becomes the Sunday of “Lagos”. He got adopted parents as stated in the regulations compliance form for both parties but the relationship becomes that of boss-to-house help thing. It just wasn’t conducive.
Education background becomes poorer, going on a tattered uniform, worn-out sandals, malicious beatings, and maltreatment received regularly even on a daily basis from both the Master and his Wife. Within a year or two, he’s been sent to another abode.
Thinking of living for good still seems debarred again by the social constraints of things around him. Tears stream down my cheeks as he speaks and I felt like fighting on his behalf but have got no weapons in defense. I really felt touched by his last words of truth before his departure when he said;
“Do not feel pity for me alone, pity instead, the families and children of those who are abused like me in the Society. Help them so they won’t be abused at their early childhood days. As for me, it’s too late. I’m gone!!!”