You wake up to a nightmare that you are in a white-walled room. All you can smell is that harsh germicide called Izal. The bed isn't comfy like your bed, it had no room to roll and you had something attached to your hands. With slow movements and barely open eyes, you find out all that. You couldn't open your eyes because you heard your dad's voice.
Your dad only came to Lagos for one week during the holidays, and easter had passed. Something must have happened. While you continue to pretend to be asleep, your parents are arguing.
"Don't come near me!" your dad yells as your mom gets up from the seat beside your bed to apologise. Hearing them makes you fight back your tears, everyone is looking at you. Something has happened to you, you realise.
"For goodness sake Godwin how could I have known!" your mom cries. "I just wanted her to smile. Angel barely smiles, she's been miserable since that day. I just wanted her to make friends and be happy… I just wanted her excited, she was excited about being nominated for the Ego awards thing", your mom wipes her tears with the back of her hand. A tear finds a way to slip out of your grip and roll down your face.
"Tunde! Call that doctor! Why isn't my daughter waking up? Is she in a coma?" your dad asks.
"Sir the doctor said earlier that she'll wake up as soon as the drugs she ingested wear off", your dad's Lagos driver Tunde replies, he is pitying you. You could hear it in his voice when he says, "Sorry sir."
"This is all your fault!" your dad yelled. "Patience! Angel is our only child now-" you could hear your dad swallow back his tears. His voice becomes low, just like it was the day he received the first package. "Those are all excuses! You let them r@pe our daughter", you hold your breath in shock.
"This was a nightmare?" you tell yourself and try to pinch yourself awake but end up tugging the thing attached to your hand. If you open your eyes, you'll see properly, so you open them when your mom comes back to the seat beside you.
"Mommy did daddy mean r@pe? Like r@pe – r@pe?" you ask your mom as you open your eyes from the shock. The room had your mom, your dad, and your mom and dad's drivers. "Daddy I wasn't raped! I couldn't have been raped, I wasn't even dressed slutty, see", you look down and see that a bluish-white hospital gown had replaced your cord set of a buttoned-up crop top and high wasted pants.
Tunde runs out to call the doctor and your dad comes closer. "Angel honey, who was it?" your dad asks in his low voice but he didn't know that you didn't know.
The doctor comes in, "We are awaiting some test results, but it seems you're one of the lucky ones-"
"Are you mad?" your dad yells at the doctor. He is fuming with anger. "My daughter was raped!"
"Stop saying that!" you cry sitting up. "Daddy, I wasn't raped!"
"Then what happened to you yesterday? Why didn't you come home last night? Why did I take the first flight from Abuja?" your dad looks at you with teary eyes. "Angel-", your dad's mouth begins to tumble like he didn't know what words to use.
"What happened yesterday?" you ask every emotion that has taken hold of your body. But none of them could reply and neither could you. You couldn't remember.
"Angel my love! Who raped you?" your mom rubs your back. "Tell mommy Mm!" your mom coos but the part of your brain that stores the memories of the after-party is having a power outage.
"Justice Obinna, Mrs Godwin, I apologise for my language", the doctor starts. "Although the test results aren't out, your daughter has a bit of scarring and bruising in her-", the doctor takes another look at your father's angry face and turns to face you. "Angel we've given you some STD preventative medications and contraceptives. So by God's grace, your body will be fine."
"Sir, we would like to connect your family with a centre that deals with cases like this. Though we've reported it to the police, the centre could help your daughter deal with the trauma of being raped", the doctor says passing your dad a card which your mom intercepts.
"Thank you doctor", your mom says ushering him out of the room. "But we don't want the police involved." Your mom responds and your dad looks at her like she has gone mad.
"Why don't you want the police involved? They need to catch the criminal that defiled our daughter!" your dad yells as the doctor excuses himself.
You begin pinching yourself at intervals, telling yourself to "Wake up!". Instead of waking up from the nightmare, you begin to feel the pain coming from below your waist. It begins to feel real. The pain feels worse than your worst cramp. Your mom looks at your dad with her signature we-need-to-talk look.
"Please leave us", your mom says, and both drivers leave the room. "Angel honey", your mom begins removing the braids from your face. "They are gone, there's no need to be ashamed. You can tell me who it was?"
"I don't remember", you say as you feel Shame materialise. Shame sits on the edge of the hospital bed mocking you. "How can't you remember who raped you?" Shame asks. "You're just a misfortune magnet, it's only you that can get raped in a place filled with people."
"Why don't you want us to involve the police?" your dad asks and your mom ignores him.
"I'm trying to remember", you reply to your mom's inquisitive gaze, but Shame laughs at you.
"You still think this is a dream!" Shame whispers in your ear. "Wake up!" Shame whispers loudly into your ear. "Angel you were raped by teenage boys, not the big, huge men in movies. You got raped by boys who still battle pimples and body odour! By foolish boys that you probably can beat up", Shame torments you.
"Stop it!" you yell.
"Do you remember?" your mom asks.
"No, I don't remember because I wasn't raped!" you reply before lying back on the bed with your back facing your mom. "That doctor is a quack", you mutter under your breath. "Mommy please I need my phone", you say turning your head momentarily and she brings the phone out of your bag.
"Good idea, teenagers are stupid. Check if you saved the rapist's number on your phone or if he texted you", your mom says handing you the phone but you just start scrolling through Instagram. "Whatever was going on is not my business, I wasn't raped?", you tell yourself but Shame just smiles at you and says, "Really! Okay! Keep believing that".
"Patience!" your dad calls your mom's name.
"Yes Godwin!" your mom says with a hint of annoyance. She is actually waiting to see if you found the rapist's number.
"Why don't you want us to report to the police?" your dad asks mom.
"Because they have big mouths!" your mom says matter-of-factly. "Are you checking if the Instagram blog sites wrote a story about it. Good idea! We need to get ahead of the situation", your mom says peeking at your phone.
"The police force is better now, they'll keep it confidential", your dad says while your mom begins to ask you if they spell Ego with an 'E' or an 'I'. "We need to involve the police to punish the criminal that did this to our daughter", your dad didn't realise his argument sounds like babbling in his wife's ear.
"That's your own business. All I know is that I don't want people to mock me online or on a trashy newspaper again", your mom says googling 'Ego awards r@pe'.
"It won't happen this time", your dad pleads.
"How? Godwin, we both know you won't bribe or blackmail them. You won't do anything that illegal or immoral, so I have to handle it my way this time", your mom argues, she is annoyed.
"Patience! You can't-", your dad starts. "We need to let the police handle it", your dad pleads.
"Fuel money, feeding, late night fees, and accommodation while they investigated", your mom begins to list the reasons why she believed using the police to investigate a crime is just like giving them an all-expense paid work vacation.
"Is it because I didn't tell you? Did you really think Nigerian police officers investigated our case for free? I was pregnant and I still had to handle all that because my incorruptible, holier-than-thou husband wanted the police to help us because it's their job", your mom says fuming, she transfers the remorse and blame to your dad.
"I'm trying to change things, I changed things", your dad says, "The police force is better now. So just trust me and report to the police", your dad adds.
"I know you, Godwin. You think just because you're the minister of Justice the police system will improve. For goodness sake, every pure Nigerian knows it is rotten to its core." Your mom says checking Twitter. "I'll handle it quietly! No one would know it involved you."
"If you even manage to catch them you don't own a prison, where would you put them?" your dad asks and your mom snarkles.
"In hell, where else! I'll define jungle justice for them with their blood", your mom says and moments later the doctor and some nurses come into the room escorting the police.
Your mom texts your dad, "The moment you open your mouth to say 'pin' about the r@pe, I'll divorce you". The policemen greet your parents, "Good afternoon Sir and Ma" they didn't recognise who your dad is. After all, Ministers that don't commit mind-boggling atrocities are never famous. They just ignore everyone else and stand in front of you inquisitively.
"Young lady, if you don't mind, we have some questions to ask you", one police officer says in a calm soft voice.
"I wasn't raped", you say turning away. "Mommy please can I have my earphones, they are in my purse."
…