SCRIBE & INK

CHAPTER FOUR (The Voyeur's Path ) But the night sky also revealed my dark desires, a twisted side of my quiet and innocent side I couldn't tell any of my friends I was still a virgin. I wouldn't survive that mockery and if i did, I would lose the feeling of belonging and my only source of answers as well. If you've blazed the trail of teenage years, you would understand. You know it’s not just me, it’s not a male thing. It’s the status quo. You know it without seeing it. I often cook up dumb stories to sound hard core but I’ll avoid being explicit because i still lacked knowledge of the chemistry of sex and human sex organs. This trying time as I count them to you Diary, brings tears down my cheeks. If only someone was there, if my mom had seen the invisible lines and if my dad wasn't only interested in discipline but my body too.

Chapter Three (My Friend Henry) Sex is so sweet I wouldn't mind dying to have it anytime of the day...  at sixteen he was already having sex with prostitutes. A t fifteen hairs had grown out of my pits and my pubic hair was much more visible. I made some interesting friends in my Secondary school; a mix of brains and brawn but nonetheless they were my friends. They were blunt discussing issues, they made their private lives public interest; it was subject to applaud and criticism. With them nothing was spoken in parables, this is the guy’s clique; we make the lies good and the truth blunt too. Perhaps, you might have such friends during your teenage years... I bet you do.

Chapter Two ( The Urge) What was more disturbing to note is the fact that my dad treated me as one with a plague. P uberty brought with it certain daily demands, sexual arousal was one of the daily rites. I was afraid to walk the streets during the day without tight underwear we referred to as " Paiint " in the Nigerian Pigin language, because of the bulge inside my shorts due to an erection. Other times I had to hold down my erected male organ through one of my pockets to weigh down the bulge.

...I became afraid. No! Terrified to bath in the bathroom even when it was vacant, even in his absence I feared him... Chapter One Dear dairy, the nightmares began when I woke up one morning. I was fifteen years old at the time; I headed for the compound’s public toilet as was my routine most mornings. Immediately I opened the toilet door I noticed the floor was wet and I could smell urine, which signified am not the first to visit, the single toilet was shared among at least twenty three neighbours of all age brackets, it’s a miracle the ceramic toilet bowl retained some level of whiteness. I had always loved the toilet floor dry. It somehow aids me in doing some level of thinking, although I always go into the toilet with my own plastic mobile potty.

In a world where internet connection disconnect family ties, where eroticism is projected into the minds of children, parents are struggling to hold a special place in the hearts of their young ones, struggling not just to talk but communicate with   their children. Lots of kids are becoming more enclosed to their immediate environment while opening themselves to the world beyond their homes.