This is the story of my life and I think I just found the man who raped me some 17 years ago when I was just 11 years old. The sad thing is he is my husband now. He doesn't know it, and I don't know how to make him confess it was him as I just saw a clue that led me to that conclusion. Please, read through and tell me what you would have done if it was you.

When I was just 10 years old, I left the village to stay with my aunt who was well to do and she was living in Lagos. A big city I thought, but life over there was not as simple as it was in the village. I spent most of the time alone because she had no child then and I was enrolled to a school within the neighborhood while she and her husband were working and they always came back home very late due to Lagos traffic.

I remember after spending about a year at her house, on a certain evening when I went to buy somethings. On this lonely path that led to the shop I was to collect candles and few things we would need the next day morning, I was attacked by few guys. They were four in number and not too older than myself. I recall they dragged me into an uncompleted building after showing me a Gun. I obeyed and followed without shouting. The eldest of them all was about 18 years old. And he led the group as they all carried out all his commands.

I remember he had armless basketball T-shirt which was red in color and carrying a dreadlocks that I would never forget because the hair was covering a part of his face while he was ontop of me and the others held my hands and legs. I cried with no one to help me but they reminded me each time I was getting louder that I was going to be killed if I keep shouting so I endured. They all took turns but didn't take long as they were also scared someone might come and catch them, atleast that was what I thought.

After everything, they reminded me again that if I told anyone, they would kill me and then they left me there. Being a village girl that I was , I stood up and even though I don't know where I got the strength from, I still walked to where I was going, got all the things I needed, and I went back home. I bled but it wasn't for too long and it stopped and I slept off.

I wanted to tell my aunt the next day but she wasn't all friendly with me all the time as all she gives me most times were the list of things I needed to do before she gets back home. We never had conversations that would lead to knowing if I was fine or not but she was an Amazing lady. So I felt it wasn't necessary to tell her because she might beat me for deciding to go out the time I went.

I grew up not having friends as the picture of that event kept appearing in my dreams and I couldn't let go. I just didn't want to have anyone around me not to talk of male friends. All through my University, I didn't have a single boyfriend to the point everyone started suspecting I was a lesbian or I had hidden toys I was using to satisfy myself.

As God would have it, I got a job in Lagos shortly after my youth service as a procurement officer in one of the leading firms in Lagos. Things were moving on just fine and I was starting to get over my fear for men through a psychological therapy. I knew the next thing was to get married so I braced up for it.


I met kunle who happens to be my husband now. I had gone to deliver some goods the company got from UK in his name and we had a little fight over some little delays. But after meeting him, he apologized for insulting me earlier and he already had the office line in my position so he kept calling until he got my real line.

Well, To cut the story short we got married 2 years after we met and he is a data analyst for a big bank in Lagos doing well for himself. We are both working really hard and not at home most times only on weekends.

On this faithful day I came home before him, he had the wardrobe in our master bedroom scattered because he needed to get a document and he was in a hurry and couldn't arrange everything. So when I got home and saw it, I was trying to arrange that when something caught my attention. I saw old pictures of him I hadn't seen before. I didn't see these ones when we were still dating I probably wouldn't have married him if I had seen them. I started flipping through all those pictures as I saw something that took me back 17 years before now. A picture of a young black boy with three of his friends, he was bigger than the rest with the same T-shirt like the man that raped me and same dreadlocks I would never forget.


I cried all night when he came back. He kept asking me what the problem was and up until this moment he doesn't know why I cant eat for days and I've been sober. After seeing that picture, I now see the resemblance and I wonder why I didn't see it before. Is it because he now keeps a descent hair cut? Or he now looks well kept and very tall and handsome? I asked myself so many questions. What do I do? We don't have children yet and I can't live with him all my life knowing he was the same man that almost destroyed my life years ago. But my mum is a strong believer who feels for better for worse is the true religion and I've been thinking, I don't want to end up killing him. I just keep getting random thoughts.

What do I do? I am in pains.