The Neighbour’s Handbag

Abigail Adetola Childhood Chronicles Faith and Hope
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I remember one neighbor from way back. Anytime she’s going to visit her then boyfriend she’d take me along. They used to call me her “handbag”

We’d get to this dark single room that her boyfriend lives in and they would sit me by the window with all the lights flooding in, meant to blind me. You know, not really see what they’re doing but register my presence. A solo audience or something


They would give me huge bowl of popcorn to munch on. I’d eat for a while, get tired and scrunch them up with my feet but by bit fill it’s all gone

It took me many years later to understand what those dance-like movements are

Took me years to understand that what they did to me was absolutely wrong

For so long they preyed on my silence but how could I have known that I was supposed to talk about it if anyone had cared to tell me it was wrong?

Now I know better
I should do better
I will do better.

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