I remember it like it was yesterday. We were bored. At home. With nothing to do. The mboch had gone out to the market. To mama mboga’s as usual. She was going to be gone for long. We were bored. Yea, I know I repeated myself. It was that bad. We were young. Very young. Still in primary. Day school.

He suggested we play a game. I didn’t know the game. It wasn’t kalongolongo. It was something else. He asked me to touch him. Where? Down here sweetie, he told me. It was soft. Thin. Had skin on top of it. Mine doesn’t look like that, I told him. Let me see, he said. He pulls up my dress. I quickly pull it down and tell him, wee, tabia mbaya! He says to me, just wait, you’ll like it. I let him put his hand there. It felt good. Really good. How is it? He asks. Nice! I reply.

Okay, lie down now. He tells me. Why? I ask. Just lie down. I will show you. See yours is a hole and mine is a stick. Here. See how it goes in? I pull away. Wee, wacha hiyo. He cajoles me. I give in. It felt good. Really good. He went in and out. In and out. I didn’t resist.

We did it again the next day. Then the week after. I am now 13. He made me pregnant. He is 14. We don’t know what to do now.

I thought it was innocent. I wish I knew better.
c: Barbra Jolie