A STORY ABOUT SEX

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We all gathered around a broken chair, huddled together discussing matters that made us giggle. We knew we were touching on sensitive issues, we knew our conversations were moving from just talking about how handsome the new boy in class was to things that were so sacred, and we actually made a vow never to reveal any of our discussions. We were a group of ten 16year old girls in secondary school.

'I'm scared to have sex, they say the first time is always painful' Aisha said this with a twisted look of pain on her face. 'Yes, I heard that too, but how then do we now graduate to women if we can't face the pain', Maryam interjected quickly. She was the de facto leader of the team and the one who was canvassing for us all to have sex before our graduation day.

We had discussed the matter like this every break period consistently for almost three weeks. We had decided it was time to finally allow have a taste at the awesome three letter word. Plans were made; girls were hooked up with guys. Girls who were scared were intimidated and taunted. Maryam was great at making you feel bad, I didn't want to be on her bad sides, so I acted as if the idea wasn't strange to me, kept a straight face during convos, didn't say much as I was always scared that my mouth would betray my heart and show all the fear that was in my heart.

It was just one more week to Graduation, and only three of us had actually given out the 'bearded meat' as Maryam always termed it. Maryam and two other girls had had sex; they acted like they were far above us. They always whispered things to each other which made the rest of us die slowly with jealousy. We all longed to know what they knew that we didn't. We all longed to be seen as cool girls who knew what to do when left alone with a boy in a room.

That day, Maryam had a big plan. She had transferred ten pornographic videos from her elder brother's phone and planned to watch it with all of us after school. I'm very sure none of us concentrated in class that day. Interestingly, time went so slowly. I caught, not once, not twice, some of the members of our group glancing at the wall clock, waiting for the sweet melody of the ringing bell, signaling the end of class that day.

We gathered at a spot, an uncompleted building beside our school. About ten of us in the group and a boy came along too. He was Maryam's boyfriend and so, had the right to be in the group. We didn't say anything about it. No one dared talk against the Boss!

We watched! Video after video! Some parts were utterly disgusting; others really made my eye get bigger. After watching, Maryam, gave us a small lecture and reminded us that it would be a shame if we were still virgins on the day we graduated from school.

So, I got home that night with renewed desire. My mind set on doing it, my body began to obey...and soon, I began to feel funny sensations all around my body.

I picked up my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, but hanged up before it even started ringing. I changed my mind and decided not to call him again.

Tolu was actually a nice guy. He was my classmate and we had been dating or should I say wasting each other's time for about six months. He was my age mate, handsome, but really childish. I only accepted to be his girlfriend when the pressure was becoming too much. It was sha a relationship. He bought me snacks in school, and I massaged his ego by being his girlfriend, which made other boys respect him.

I knew he was a baby. He wouldn't be able to do what I wanted. My mind went back to the day I asked him to kiss me and he ran away. I had passed him a slip of paper with 'I want to kiss you after school today, meet me at the back of the library' written on it. I waited and waited for almost an hour, he didn't show up...only to tell me he was scared and couldn't come. I was pissed, but didn't let him see it. I didn't want him to think I was desperate. Actually, I was. Maryam and the gang were hitting it in our faces every day that we were kids and did not know the wonderful things of life.

I actually wanted that kiss so much, because I was already living a lie. I had told my friends that I had been kissed before, even painted a picture and they all believed it. This made me always scared, as I didn't even know how to kiss or what the procedure was. I was always scared that someone would find out my secret someday and expose me. The ridicule I would face would nearly kill me. That was why I needed that kiss...and that idiot who called himself my boyfriend wasn't capable.

I didn't want another fiasco, so I let Tolu be. But the rumblings in my body were becoming unbearable. I was confused and disoriented. I never knew it could be like this.

Then, this beautiful idea struck me. I remembered Stephen, the cool dude who lived opposite my house. He worked with an Insurance company, had a car and lived alone. His job was not a fixed one, so he was most times at home during weekdays. I used to see him bring different and several girls to his house on a daily basis. He was that kind of egbon that could send you on an errand to buy something worth two hundred naira and end up dashing you five hundred naira.

And so without thinking, I stood up and went to his house. The urge was killing me. I wasn't thinking again. I was ready to shamelessly lay with him. I knew he was matured, and he wouldn't reject the offer or run away like my boyfriend. I knew he would know what to do. I planned to tell him that I was a virgin and didn't know what to do, but desperately wanted it.

So I knocked and he opened. One thing led to another and I finally had what I wanted. Truly, after the whole thing, I didn't feel bad as had always been preached to us. I just felt normal. I even felt angry because I had actually thought sex would be one mind blowing experience. I was seriously disappointed. I just lay there and went through the whole process like I was in a trance.

So this was the sex. I went back to school the next day and my shoulder went some inches higher. You know, I could see respect in the eyes of some of the girls when I told them that I did it...and interestingly, it wasn't with all these small mosquito legged boys, it was with a 28year old dude...even Maryam raised her eyebrow, but didn't reveal any emotion.

Things went well, until three weeks later, the due date for my period came and passed and nothing happened. I thought it was just a delay until another full week passed and still nothing.

Panic set in immediately. I called Stephen. I told him I had not seen my period. He sounded calm, told me not to worry.. He told me that since it was my first time, there was bound to be a shift in the cycle. I agreed with him. He was the matured one na.

One more week, and still nothing. I was becoming so scared already. As at that time, we had already graduated from school, and so I couldn't meet with my friends so regularly, there was no one to ask questions.

I was scared to death. I kept on staring at my mum every day, trying to read her mind, so I could ask her questions, but it was just difficult. My mum and I were never close. We talked, but never deeply. I couldn't imagine, how awkward it would be asking her about sex and pregnancy.

I stopped eating. I was really scared. Days went by, I usually stayed alone at home. I would re-wind events that led to the day I went to Stephen's house and feel sorry for myself. What if I was really pregnant? I shuddered with dread. My father will kill me; my mum will shed hot tears when she will realize that the father was the same Stephen she always condemned for being the official playboy and destroyer of female lives on the street.

With tears forming in my eye, I marched to Stephen's house. He was at home. The initial excitement and desire that lit up in his eye when he thought I was coming back for another experience died instantly when I told him I hadn't seen my period.

He told me to wait behind in the house, while he went to a nearby chemist. He got something that looked like a stick and told me to go into the toilet and urinate on it.

I did exactly so and brought it back to him. When he saw it, something happened. It was so quick, so sharp, so fast, so instant...yet I caught it.

The small stick had two lines across it when I urinated on it. When I brought it to Stephen, there was a sensation that passed through him. I could see it. It was short and sharp, but I caught it. It was like he was scared. He quickly changed demeanor and told me not to worry, that everything was fine.

He told me that I wasn't pregnant and that the two lines meant that I was not pregnant. I then asked why my period still hadn't come, he gave me the same response he gave me before. I wasn't so satisfied, but I went home all the same. My fear had gotten to a very high level. I was already avoiding my mum. If truly, I was pregnant, it meant I was already six weeks gone. I felt my mum would be able to notice.

I went online, I googled ‘home pregnancy test kit’, I saw lots of info on it. I saw that the stick Stephen told me to urinate on was a pregnancy test kit, and that if it showed two lines, it meant the person was pregnant. I remembered that it showed two lines. I also remembered Stephen told me not to worry, that the two lines actually meant the opposite…that I wasn’t pregnant. I got confused the more. I read the more, I saw more articles.

Then it hit me, and it hit me hard. Stephen lied to me. I was indeed pregnant. The he-goat had lied to me to get me out of his house. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had escaped and ran away already. I felt angry, used, stupid and cheated. I didn’t know when tears came down from my eyes. I was naïve. I had allowed myself to step beyond a boundary.

I wondered why I wasn’t like the other girls who did it and nothing happened to them. I wondered mine was different. I wandered what Maryam would do if she were in my shoes. As I thought and thought, I cried harder and harder. I cried so much, my pillows were wet. Thank goodness I was the only one at home.

Then my phone rang. It was Stephen calling. I didn’t pick at first, he kept on calling. The fourth time he tried it, I finally picked. He said he wanted to discuss something with me. He was outside my house.
I went to meet him, he told me he knew I was pregnant, but didn’t want to scare me and wanted time to be able to think before he could take any action and that was why he lied to me initially. ‘So you think I’m a fool, shey?’ I shouted back at him. I was blinded by pain, tears and guilt. He didn’t reply, was very calm. I gave him words, I insulted him, I shouted. He just smiled.
He shut me up with just one sentence; ‘it was you who brought yourself to me’.

I went silent immediately.

He patted my hair, told me not to worry. He told me I was now a matured girl. He told me he would handle it…and that I should trust him. Errrm, like I had any other option other than to trust him.
He pressed a sachet of drugs into my hands, and made me cover them tightly with my palms. His instructions were brief and direct. ‘Take one of the red capsules today, take the second one two days from now, after you take the second one, lie down for an hour then take the white ones, then go to the toilet’.

He made me repeat his instructions. I knew what the drugs were for. I knew it was to abort the baby. I never thought I would get to this stage in my life. I felt worthless. So, I would join the list of people who had abortion stories to tell. I died that day. I went inside my house. I nearly fainted. I walked straight to my bed and cried for two straight hours.

I took the drugs. Two days later, I took the second one and the white tablets as he said. After like twenty minutes, I began to feel a bit of pain in my tummy. I went to the toilet and it happened. I menstruated for the next two weeks, before the flow reduced. No one knew…not even my mother.

I felt dirty. Yes, I grew up…yes, I had sex, yes, I experienced it. But the pain that eats away at my heart every day since that day is something I can’t explain in words. I actually died that day. I deliberately didn’t want to fall sick, so that my mum would not notice and force me to go to a hospital. I had to be strong. For the two weeks, my tummy was in constant pain. I cried every day. I slept with tears on my eyes. I lost my humanity. Yes, I wanted sex…I just never knew, I would have to also go down the abortion lane.

I was sixteen, young and naïve. Now I am twenty-two years old…and I have stayed without sex. Its crazy, but I have been waiting. Sometimes, I wonder if I would have the courage to tell my future husband about my abortion… I get scared that he might not understand.

Sex is awesome, but I feel comfortable staying without it. I am a born-again virgin. I am waiting, and indeed I can wait. Truly, sex is worth waiting for.

-----Written based on a true story. ***Names have been changed***



Akan Imoh is a creative writer and many other things. Follow him on Instagram - @mrAkanImoh.