Outcast IV

Sleep completely eluded me on my first night in Aunty Patience’s house, not even the accumulated fatigue from the rather tortuous journey to Lagos could induce me to sleep. The children slept on a raffia mat in the sitting room whilst Aunty Patience and her husband slept in the only bedroom. I was used to sleeping on soft mattresses and having to sleep on a raffia mat without a pillow felt so wrong on many levels. I laid there wide awake with closed eyes, wondering how the other kids (Clara and my four cousins) were able to find sleep on that hard floor. Perhaps, it was the piglet-like snores all around me that made it impossible to sleep. For a moment, I felt like an umpire in the middle of a snoring competition with the kids trying to out snore each other. Towering over them all was Aunty Patience’s ‘locomotive-on-the- move’ like snores booming from the bedroom. I quietly wondered if snoring was genetically transmitted. Aunty Patience’s eldest child (Suzie) lay closest to the wall and was bordered by me. Clara lay next to me and the other kids followed in that order. I was soon to find out the reason for this sleeping arrangement that Aunty Patience sternly warned must be adhered to. I and the wall on either side of Suzie were to serve as wedges to protect the other kids from being crushed to death in their sleep by Suzie. As she turned in her sleep she placed her fat leg on my neck snuffing air out of my larynx. As I struggled to move her leg away, she turned and replaced it with her fat hand. I was still struggling to wade off Suzie, wondering what kind of sleeping disorder this was when I heard footsteps and froze. I felt a shadow fell across my face blocking the light rays from the electric bulb that had been filtering into my closed eyes. Minutes later, I opened my eyes slightly to see why the shadow was still there and who it was. I was shocked to see Uncle Bello (Aunty Patience’s husband) squatting close to Clara, clad only in a wrapper that was loosely tied around his waist. For some minutes I couldn’t wrap my brain around what I was seeing. My eyes clamped shut in a fast reflex motion as the scene before me started registering. I was pressed and needed to go empty my bladder. So, I stealthily opened my eyes hoping he would have gone but the idiot was still there. Uncle Bello had one hand on Clara’s breasts squeezing them so hard that the mere sight of it made me wince. It looks like he was bent on squeezing out milk from the girl’s huge breasts that were now fully out of the slackened white-turned-brown singlet that Clara wore. His other hand was in between Clara’s leg. At first, Clara was feebly pushing away uncle Bello’s hands while her eyes remained closed. I peeped and noticed that Uncle Bello was still deeply engrossed in his pedophile act. With a swift motion he pulled up Clara’s covering wrapper revealing a mould of thick black pubic hair. My eyes flew wide open as I watched with mouth agape. She started to spread her legs wider to allow uncle Bello’s probing fingers further access into her thick black mould, I could clearly hear her heavy breathing as she move her body rhythmically. Her jutted chest and wide spread legs reminded me of the barbecue chicken hanging on the grill at the suya stand back when I used to go with dad to get suya for mom. Still shocked at the sight of the horror film like scenes unfolding before me, I noticed she was now moving her waist wildly, her face heavily twitched and her breathing coming out in silent moans. At this point I started feeling a strange sensation in between my legs as I began to get excited induced by what I was seeing.