Yes! Yes! Yes! My name is Brenda she echoed as she confessed in her story. What is most vital is my story and not my surname, she responded as a way of avoiding the question. I am just fifteen years old but people say many things about me, most especially my physique. Age if to be considered am a minor but in appearance I hear guys say ''Babe you gather'', ''Babe you hot'', ''Babe your curve no be here'', ''chick, your waist na fire'', ''Chai! See behind''….. Notwithstanding there conscious and unconscious confessions which my own friends are not left out in the confession series. My female friends are something else, theirs are almost on a daily bases ''Babe I jealous your baka'', ''Babe dash me yansh small na...'' and so many other things that I cannot really point out now but if it is about buttock and front mine is extremely given by my maker “GOD”. What are you thinking? Hahaha..! Truly speaking every individual knows what he or she carries. Never forget that I got my mirror, eyes and hands to see and feel what I have. Most of these eulogies look sarcastic from the face of it but inane at the end. Back to my story…
We are living in a two bedroom rented apartment....”we” here means my parents and myself. I am the only child of my parents and one of the rooms automatically became mine while they both shared one. Everything I needed was provided for me by my parents despite the fact that we are not too rich however comfortable. I must confess that I have always been taken care of by my parents before my unanticipated and unforeseen incident occurred. My Mum normally calls me “Miss B” or “Angel B” while my Dad fondly calls me “My Own”. What gets me surprise most times is how my Dad looks at me. Does it mean he suspects my moves or his among my admirers? Sorry, I have not told you that even married men disturb me often; most interestingly some of these men have biological daughters that are even older than my very self yet they are carefree of my age. Not forgetting one certain time my close friend Rebecca became an agent for one of the married men who always gives her anything, all for my sake. Good a thing I am impervious so my friend Rebecca was aware her expertise would not serve in surmounting my decision so she never attempted. I had to talk about this man because of his disturbances on me becoming his “Little Angel”. On one occasion he said to me “Sweetie, I so much need you because I cherish you; your type cures Malaria and Big-man sickness”. Not being impertinent, I politely talked sense into him and advised him to spend more on his family and leave little girls old enough to be his daughters and grand-daughters alone. I watched the range on his face as I dotted my little poisonous and carefully presented speech waiting for his reply. Truly speaking about the effect of my speech on him, I noticed his face will be best explained using chemistry practical, taking about “BOILING POINT” what happens when a substance reaches this point. His face started to brighten up the moment his anger and disappointment ascending that point. He cleared his voice and said to me calmly “My daughter you are indeed decent and different, please forgive my manners”. I responded nothing further than “No problem Sir, thank you Sir” as I left him for home. I could not stop laughing when I got home that very day till date, wondering if I am an antibiotic for Malaria or antidote for Big-man sickness. I thought within me “would his reply have been the same assume I concurred?” Food for thought; absolutely “No” that is why I was never moved by his broken submission that was crystal clear pretentious because I knew devourers are always eager to devour..
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