C1 CAGED

"Hey!"

I looked up quickly at the smiling face of Peter; a new student who had been admitted into our school five weeks ago. He was jovial so he made friends quickly - he had more friends than students who had been in the school since JSS1.

I was shocked he was speaking to me. I expected him to stay away just as the rest had - my classmates hated me and I couldn't blame them. I couldn't expect people to love me when I didn't love myself.

One would wonder why, as people find it much easier to love themselves than others but how could I do so when I hated the life I was leading?

My grandma - the woman I had lived with all my life - didn't make loving myself easy for me. Sometimes, I wished I was never born; that way, I wouldn't have to pay for a crime I didn't commit.

Peter waved his hands in front of me when I didn't reply and I looked around. As expected, people were looking at me and I could feel chills run down my spine as I willed myself to take a deep breath.

I wanted him to go. I couldn't talk to him. I didn't want to get into trouble. Grandma could walk in any time and see him speaking to me just as she had done in the past. I could still remember the event clearly like it had happened a few hours ago when it had occurred many years back.

It had been my first time playing with a boy and I had enjoyed the game we were both playing but grandma had seen me with him and had slapped me very hard on my cheek.

I was just seven then and Timothy had been my classmate; we had both been waiting to be picked up from school and while we waited, we decided to play a game but grandma had walked into the school compound and had seen Timothy holding me tightly on the waist. Without waiting for any explanation, she dragged me from Timothy's grip and had landed a heavy slap on my cheek.

I felt nothing but pain each time I remembered that incident.

"Hellooo!" Peter dragged the words to get my attention and I sighed heavily, hoping he would leave if I ignored him. I tried to focus my attention on something else but Peter standing before me and thoughts of what grandma would do to me should she walk in - since she was known for paying me unannounced visits at school - consumed me instead.

Living with grandma all my life, I couldn't remember staying elsewhere other than the four corners of her compound: a compound I had come to greatly despise. It was on her floor I had crawled; my first walk had been in her house. She had been my guardian ever since I came into this world. How I wish I could go back to wherever I came from. It must be so much better there than here.

My mum, her daughter had given birth to me out of wedlock. I was given birth to after she completed secondary school and after my delivery, she had stayed with me for just a year before going to further her education. Ever since then, I had been left at the care of her parents: my grandparents.

Though she had visited me often while she was in school, her visits became less frequent when she got married.

Before then, I had pleaded with her to take me along with her but she had smiled and made a promise to take me after she was done with her schooling but she never did.

The man she got married to refused to take in a kid that wasn't his and so my mother was left with no other choice than to leave me in the care of her parents.

Since then, seeing her was like harmattan season which came once a year.

Her seldom visit made me cherish her presence. I looked forward to her coming like a groom waiting for his bride. Each time she came, I ask about my little siblings whom I had never seen before, physically.

I would ask her about things relating to her new family. I asked her about everything but one: My father! The last time I did, my grandma had glared at me like I had said a forbidden word.

Honestly, even without asking, my grandma gave me tips about him for she spat words of insults on him almost every day; raining curses on him wherever he was.

Due to my grandma's incessant insults on my father, I concluded that he was useless and so not worth any attention, therefore I stopped asking about him.

My mother found this a great relief; her face took different shapes each time I brought issues of my father up.

"I would have said you were dumb had I not heard you speak before. I'm Peter!" He offered his hands, bringing me out of my reverie.

I stared at his hands like it was a scorpion that would sting me should I touch it. Peter smiled shyly as he dropped his hands and sat next to me. I looked away from him and shifted my gaze to the window.

"I noticed you don't interact with anyone in this class. Why is that?" He asked and I didn't respond. He sighed wearily.

"Could you stop ignoring me, please?"

"Can't you see I don't want to speak with you?" I finally said. If I spoke to him harshly, maybe he'd leave me alone.

I was not ready to explain myself to anyone. It would provoke more mockery and laughter.

"Wow! You're rude. I guess they are right about you."

I ignored him as I made attempt to leave the class but he followed me. It had been so long someone tried to speak with me.

Everyone had accepted the fact that I wouldn't speak to them. I wondered why Peter was trying his luck. Did he think I'd treat him any differently?

Grandma had made it clear to me to stay away from guys without white hair or beards. She had said all men but when I asked about grandfather, she abruptly said that.

My grandfather - who had been the only fatherly figure in my life - passed away when I was only five. He was the love of my life.

He protected me from grandma's strict rules. He felt I should mingle with my peers but grandma being the person that she was, felt differently. She made it clear to me to stay away from the opposite sex.

She told me scary stories of how I would end up like my mother should I flout her rules.

She went further by saying my child would be denied of a family just as I was; that I would be a dropout and never achieve my dreams - if I even had one. I couldn't even think for myself.

This spiel got to me always but then, how would I have kids when I was ordered to stay away from anything male? I couldn't ask this so I resulted in adhering to her rules.

However, it was so hard avoiding the opposite sex seeing that I attended a mixed school with both sexes as classmates.

Grandma had wanted to enrol me in an all-girls school but my mum refused; why she refused, I didn't know and never asked. I had grown to accept a lot of things without questioning them.

Grandma resulted in keeping a close watch on me because of this reason. I could understand why she didn't want me anywhere close to boys but girls? Why?

Since I couldn't be friends with boys, I had maximized my friendship with girls and so made friends with any girl I set my eyes on. I was very popular in my primary school.

Though I had my clique in school, I didn't have one at home and for this reason, when Zainab's family relocated to my area and became my neighbour, I became her friend quickly.

Zainab was very fun to be with. She told me many things I never knew. She told me about her favourite TV show and other programmes she watched on TV. It was funny how we had a large flat-screen television yet I had never seen a movie before.

I was forbidden to watch TV alone; the only programme I saw was the news. To grandma, other programmes were filled with pieces of stuff that would corrupt me.

The housekeeper just like every other worker followed grandma's orders strictly so there was no way I could watch television in my grandma's absence.

The reasons for this strict obedience were: One! my grandma never hesitated to sack anyone who went against her instructions - especially when it had to do with me - no matter how hard-working that person was.

Another reason was she paid very well; she paid double of what any worker requested to be paid. To her, there would be no reason to rebel if paid well.

"I have so many questions to ask you." Peter was still talking. "Why do you run off immediately the closing bell rings? Are you so eager to go home? Why don't you -?"

"Leave me alone, Peter! Can't you see I really don't want to talk to you? What's your problem?" Anger was already welling up in me.