Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

Decades II – The first decade (0-10) September 19, 2011

Filed under: Decades,Scenic — Betty @ 10:31 am

The Decades project II.

Thanks for waiting. In case you missed the preview, find it here so you know what to expect. If you’re not sure what Decades is about, kindly check the preview out.

Decades II – very much like the original Decade project – explores the wholesomeness of womanhood as lived in ten-year intervals; Girls; Ladies; Women; Mothers; grand and great-grand mothers all. They live the same life we live, experience the same joys and pains unique to their decades and maybe we can learn a thing or two from them. Find the subtle connections that link their lives together and get lost in stories told. Decades II.

Please do subscribe to the blog to follow the project. (Column to the right for PC browsers or in the comment section). Also, we hope that you’d be kind enough to leave a comment. Your feedback is important to us.

The first Decade (0-10) by @CeceNoStockings


ENTER @Koromonay
She prayed in the shower this morning,

She prayed for Cinderella’s glass slippers,

She prayed for a carriage pulled by unicorns,

She prayed her beauty away and wished

Ugliness her way because she was so tired

Of her father loving her the way he did.

ENTER @CeceNoStockings
“What exactly are you saying, Mrs. Ibekwe?” my mum asked the principal in her usual calm, barely audible voice. My dad still hadn’t spoken a word.
I stood in the principals office, fingers clasped in front of me, head bent low, staring at my feet clad in sandals from Clarks. My parents were on either side of me, and I didn’t dare look at them. As far as I knew, I was in serious trouble and this time needed to be spent coming up with strategies for attracting a less severe punishment rather than throwing pointless, pitiful looks their way.
I wasn’t worried about mum. She hardly ever yelled, and never raised a hand on me no matter how upset she got. Dad had forbidden her to. You see, I am my dad’s. I belong to him in every way, and he was responsible for me.
I’m the youngest in my family, and have six sisters ahead of me. Yes, my mum had six girls before me. From what I heard, she had kept trying because father desperately wanted a boy and, when my mum conceived for the seventh time, he convinced himself I was lucky number seven. In a bout of ignorance he went ahead and purchased all things necessary for a baby boy. My mother had secretly had an ultrasound—secretly because father had requested she didn’t—and knew she was not carrying a boy. Did she say anything? No. She loved all the attention she was finally getting, and nothing, not even the truth, would detract from that.
The day my mother went into labour, father was more excited than anyone else, mum inclusive. He beamed from ear to ear as he held my mum’s hand while she pushed; dreams of father-son bonding swimming around in his head. That is, until they announced, “It’s a girl!”, and placed me in his stunned, disappointed hands.
Nothing really changed for my dad. He wanted a son, and he was determined to have one. Nothing he bought was returned. In his eyes, I was the son he had always wanted.
As an infant and a toddler my mum, and everyone else, barely had access to me. I was constantly in my dad’s office with him. He owned his own company and had decided to work from home after my birth. I didn’t go to a creche or kindergaten. My dad was my tutor, and gave me all sorts of activity books to occupy me. I stayed under his watchful gaze, only handed over to my mother when I needed to be fed, changed or bathed. And even that stopped when I turned five.
As my father got busier, he decided to enroll me in primary school. He supervised my extra-curricular activities throughout.There was football practice, and martial arts lessons on the assigned club days in school, and afternoons spent shooting hoops in the backyard, at home.
Though he got busier as I got older, my father never wavered in his love for me. Any spare time he had was devoted to me and, much to the resentment of my mother and siblings, I got everything I requested.
When he deemed me old enough, at about eight, my dad and I started going on camping trips. My mother strongly protested against this and was even more aggravated when even her suggestion to take my sisters along was turned down. My father called these trips training exercises, and they were filled with all sorts of manly activities. He was responsible for my training and upbringing. No one was to intervene in my discipline, but report whatever was perceived as bad conduct to him. My punishments were harsh, but he would constantly remind me how much he loved me, and how necessary they were. I adored these trips, because those were the times daddy would ocassionally refer to me as his “perfect little girl”.
So as I stood next to his domineering frame in the principal’s office that afternoon, it was father’s reaction I was truly worried about. Father’s face hardly ever gave away anger, and I’d never be able to tell if he was angry until he spoke. Since his arrival, he hadn’t uttered so much as a greeting; he just sat there watching. The silence was unnerving. I began to wonder how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I snuck a look at my mum, who was still discussing with the principal. Maybe it was just me, but she seemed a bit excited about me being in trouble. This was her fault anyway.
I was spoilt silly by my dad. I had everything I needed, all that I wanted and much more. Dad showered me with all the love, gifts and attention that he deprived my mum and six elder sisters of. Needless to say, mother was most unhappy about this. All her pleas to father to tone it down fell on deaf ears. As I grew, I was spoilt even more. Father would reward my excellent academic performance with gifts and trips to somewhere new. By my tenth birthday, I had been to places I didn’t even know the names of. It was also when I turned ten that my mother had decided she’d had enough. She convinced father that I was smart enough to skip primary six and move ahead to secondary school. By lacing her arguments with words he loved—discipline, building, physical activity—she managed to bend him, and I was sent off to boarding school.
I didn’t really mind. Sure, it was a bit difficult adjusting to the mediocre environment at first, but all father’s training began to pay off. I made the necessary amount of friends, male of course, to keep me from losing my mind, and became very active in sporting activities. I had only one problem. Girls. I was in a dorm surrounded by them, and I had started struggling with feelings I was uncertain about. A room mate in particular was the center of attraction for these new feelings. Some nights, I’d watch her from my bed after lights out. Watching her reminded me of nights with dad on our camping trips, when he’d taught me how to “take care of myself”. He’d told me this was all I needed to do to show him how much I appreciated everything he did for me. It was our secret, and it strengthened our bond.
So even though I was aware of what my room mate was doing, I was unsure about why it made me feel the way I did. It pushed me to the very edge, and one night I fell. I got up and walked over to her bed as she touched herself and offered to help her out. That was the beginning of our wonderful friendship. We’d sneak out of class and hide in the uncompleted buildings, or take bathroom breaks together whenever we wanted to play. Unfortunately, we weren’t as careful as we needed to be, and we got caught one afternoon during siesta. There was no excuse we could give; both our panties were down and we were deeply engaged when the security guard had walked in on us.
My mind was drawn back to the room by my father’s deep voice.
He sounded calm enough, so I raised my head and looked at him.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
Show no fear. One of his lessons flashed through my mind. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth.
“Daddy, I’m sorry. But I really like Anari. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”
My mum started to mumble something about me speaking nonsense and I could hear the principal going on about one punishment or the other. I think I might have heard suspension. But all that didn’t matter. My eyes were locked on my father’s, because I knew his decision was the one that mattered. I kept a straight face, masking my fear for as long as I could, and then he smiled before turning to the principal.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said. And then he turned to me. “Tobi, go pack your things. We’re leaving.”
My name is Oluwatobiloba Akande, and I am my father’s son.



FIND THE ART OF @CeceNoStockings here
N.B. The project goes on for the following seven days. Tomorrow we have The Second Decade by @UcheAnne.

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column or in the comments section) to follow the project).

90 Responses to “Decades II – The first decade (0-10)”

  1. papyrusczar Says:

    As expected from coco. An exciting start to a wonderful project.
    I’m looking forward to the next one.

  2. Kesh Says:

    This is awesome.

  3. Mz_Shadee Says:

    Yayy!!! Me likey.

  4. @edgothboy Says:

    Eccentric take on a child’s perspective, I could tell what was happening but you made me read it just to be completely sure! Brilliant!

  5. afrosays Says:

    Her relationship with her dada is so weird.
    I wasn’t completely sure what was going on because she wasn’t playing victim, I knew but I didn’t want to believe her dada was touching her… after all his forming sergeant daddy upbringing?

    Seriously I had to call darkBetty to be sure I got this twist right.

    And I was freaked out that I did.

    Up @cecenostockings. You rock! Great start! And I even love it more that you didn’t travel the well beaten victim path on this. It’s wrong but it’s teaches without necessarily begging for our sympathy.

    Watch you husbands giving your daughters extra time?

  6. s_Hotzs Says:

    Nw u have ma full attention, nice wrk I tell you. Can’t wait for the next post…..@s_Hotzs, let the famzing begin

  7. freshprinz Says:

    Cocobutter mi…my sweet sugar cocopops, this was story is amazing. Totally not what I expected but I loved it. Brilliant writing. *kisses*

  8. anon Says:

    nice one there. i guess tobi’s Dad made a real ‘man’ out of her. i look forward to next.

  9. ibetapassmynebo Says:

    this is def d handwork of ori nri. .lukn 4ward to d next one. . .

  10. anon Says:

    i guess tobi’s Dad made a real ‘man’ out of her. hehehe

  11. padded Says:

    Erm. Interseting. Very well written I must say. But the concept of abuse is just pervading everything I see online these days

  12. loba Says:

    Oh Jesus, did he do what I think he did to that little child, all that pressure wasn’t enough? Poor poor child. Still looking for her father’s approval.

  13. chei..dis is sers yoo….buh i love love love dis…nyc one cece…(y)

  14. Beautiful writing Cece, quite a different twist to child abuse.

  15. As expceted from Cece…wonderful story. And d twist was lovely

  16. lade Says:

    Wowwww…….. @ cece….. I doff my hat + my head sef….. Great writing mam…… I love

  17. theGeneralsDaughter Says:

    I just knew it’d be great. Off to an awesome start. Well written.

  18. Tomboxe Says:

    Coco you’re an idiot. But you’re my idiot so it’s okay. Loved it. How could you possibly be nervous about an entrance as brilliant as this?

  19. jumie Says:

    fan-tas-tic start 🙂

  20. Beautiful writing Cece, quite a different twist to child abuse. The minute i saw this line “You see, I am my dad’s. I belong to him in every way” i knew it was a story about abuse.

  21. @deolaaa Says:

    CoCo writes very well. Brilliant (y) 🙂

  22. afrosays Says:

    Ok oh!
    Didn’t anyone read the poetry? We need your feedback too oh!

  23. OOkpoechi Says:


  24. omoJ Says:

    What I really love about this piece is the subtle play of victimization. You are good. No doubt.

  25. 0latoxic Says:

    Wow! Just Wow!

    We’re off to an amazing start. I’m already beginning to see why it took so long after DecadesII was announced for it to get served up and I can see another epic series through and through.

    Forgive my ‘ignorance’ in such matters though, but I’m a little confused… What exactly did her father do on those trips? Teach her to masturbate, hand-job her or have her hand-job him? And how does this translate if he saw her as a ‘son’?

  26. You guys are too generous with praise. Fortunately, I’m shallow and insecure enough to accept it all 😀

    But really, praise should go to our task master, Betty. Wouldn’t have been as good as you may see it now without her.

    And Tox, why are you the only one that will now ask question? Warris the problem? Anyhu, I left that open for the readers. Didn’t want to beat the abuse drum too much. And, her dad is very aware she’s a girl irrespective of the fact that he treats her like a boy. That’s why she enjoys the trips. Those are the rare occasions she feels feminine. Satisfied?

    • 0latoxic Says:

      Ah ahn, I already ‘pled’ ignorant nah. I would have settled for your leaving it open if it wasn’t that everyone who had commented before me seemed to have a clear picture that I didn’t have. Thainz for the clarification… somewhat…

  27. ThinkTank! Says:

    Love the intro by Koro!!!
    It gives away a bit of the concept of the story but not much. I guess I’d prefer if the poem came after the story. Kind of an artistic closure to the facts established in the story. Still, doesnt take away much. very nice.

    As for the story itself, I agree with Banxman, its a well-trodden path but Cece walked it with new shoes. Mildly predictable (especially with the poem at the beginning), but thoroughly engaging story.

    Attention from fathers to daughters is a dicey thing… Hard to say when its too much. If it were her mother doting over her so much, I wonder if the feeling and the notion of ‘abuse’ and the associated ‘wrongness’ would be the same? Ah well…

    Great Beginnings. Did I mention that Afrosays is now my favorite blog? (Yes, I even like it more than my own).

    Carry on, Carry on…

  28. Genesis Says:

    First off, I CANNOT, in my 8 Minds, Picture Me, sitting between My Dad and Mum across from some Principal to discuss Homosexual incidents between me and another dude. Warner Bros and Disney plus Touchstone Pictures doing a collabo with Spielberg as Director KENNOT MAKE THAT PICTURE COME ALIVE IN MY HEAD. That is the Absolute singular WORST thing one’s earthly folks could hold against one’s Destiny. 😀 … Having said that, Lovely writing. Glad I read it. Plus Koro’s Poem too. 😀

  29. PreyingMantis Says:

    Cecenostockings, cool story bruv (Y).
    Did you consider that maybe her father is actually the victim here?

  30. I love, I love. Love the intro, by @koromonay….gave me subtle hints about the story. Beautiful start. Well done thatDarkbetty, Afro, Cece, Koromonay and all of you.

  31. J Says:

    Ughhhh!!!! I just knew she’ll end up being a ”tomboy”..tsk tsk. Haha… We’re actually 7 girls as well… Mum was the stricter parent, but nahh….no favoritism per se…..just that my younger sister (the last born)practically got new stuff every gadddem weekend! LOL

  32. awizii Says:

    Am I the only one that hears Koro’s voice when I read her poetry? Great stuff.

    Coco I love you, and you are so damn gifted I don’t know what else to say. There’s so much I want to learn from this and I can’t wait. I love it, love it, love it.

  33. J Says:

    Oh, now that I think about it……….maybe her mum shud have put her foot down a lot earlier!

  34. isetfiretotherain Says:

    Very well written.

    I’d just like to point out that unlike Think tank said, the poem doesn’t quite resonate with the story. From the story, she seemed to be basking in all the attention she was getting from her pa, none of that wishing ugliness her way because she was so tired of her father loving her the way he did. Besides, it wasn’t as if it was her beauty that attracted her father in the first place.

    • ThinkTank Says:

      I’d say that the story is told in such a matter-of-fact tone that you cannot tell what her emotions are. She simply relays the facts as they occured. I did’nt see any part of the story where she openly expressed happiness with the situation or discontent either. Its just factual.

      The poem is the one with emotion. which is why I feel it should have come after. Still, if you look for cracks long enough you will see them. Poems and indeed all art are very open to interpretation, this is mine.

    • ThinkTank Says:

      Minor add. the only thing she openly expresses love for are the trips. that may be due to the sexual element or a love of the wild. Lots open to interpretation. but still, generally an emotionless account of facts.

      • isetfiretotherain Says:

        Very well then. I don’t think she needed to write it there point blank. What I took away from the story was a sense of euphoria on her part. She definitely delighted in the attention she was getting, the jealousy of her mother, siblings all seemed to please her. There was no hint of an otherwise, the last line makes my conviction even stronger. She calls herself her father’s son.

        Also, Cece, if as you hinted, her father had ‘taught her how to take care of herself’, doesn’t that already make her heterosexual?

  35. zoey Says:

    *applause* this is unadulterated talent, very well written am looking forward to the next ones!!! Imagine her boldness, ‘daddy, I really like her’. Hahahaha!!!

  36. Ekwe Says:

    very nice story. but cece, you really have to stop talking about this sexual abuse thing. it worries me. I was hopin your story woud not have that theme and when i saw it in the end again,my face fell. you must have written countless things about abuse on ya blog already. i need to stop reading ya stories like a mills and boon novel, becuase i can predict most of them.
    nice work. i liked the setting and the flow of narration.

    • Beseech Says:

      Fan of your work however I tire from the topics woven common within your stories (masturbation, abuse and gay sex). The poem was a dead giveaway especially when you consider it’s a Cece piece. Found it flat.

  37. Ekwe Says:

    oh. i just read the poem. it showed discontent…while the story showed indulgence. erm…ok.

  38. Ngufy Says:

    Awesome read. Im now a devoted fan…..
    Loved the poem intro… Left the mind wandering to the tons of abuse and sexual assault to be encountered….
    *fingers crossed* hope the next read wont take too long…

  39. Tim Konyehi Says:

    Nice Story, Tobi obviously has turned out wrong because of HER (not his) father’s ‘training’ especially the ‘taking care of herself’ part. Morale of the story (to me): YOUR AMBITION WHEN IT GETS OVERBOARD CAN HURT OTHERS EVEN AS YOU END UP HURTING YOURSELF

  40. @Qurr Says:

    Awesome! Cece absolutely killed the intro!! I knew you would!

    I love Koro’s intro although it does tell another story, one of a now-self-aware girl wishing to break free of unwanted (sexual) attention she believes she somewhat deserves or has been told she deserves.

    At the core it’s the one same message, but the poem and the prose knock the meaning into us from two perspectives. Then we see that what is acceptable as right and wrong have been defined in one case by a second party, a parent, and in te other case internally by the girl herself. One is thus a decisive agent while the other is subservient. Assuming both characters were the same age, their differences will expand over time.

    Oh boy leave story. Lol. Good job dear Betty, and Banxman.

  41. ach0w Says:

    your preview link is broken.

    Unclear what her dad did to her, and hence strange that she is attracted to women. More likely to result in an insatiable freak if she was abused, given the nurturing she had, or she could have got confused and become paranoid or aggressive, that is violent. Girls dont become tomboys due to upbringing. The tendency must be there to be seeded, otherwise nurture causes confusion and conflict instead. She seems to be cool, calculating and confident, not afflicted.

    My two cents. Hope you take it for what it is.

    Is this based on a true story?

  42. phantompages Says:

    Amazing story..lovely poem! Everything else is secondary! The End.

  43. thatifygirl Says:

    That poem right there. Very beautiful.
    I liked the flow of this story. Very well told. Good job, Cece! 🙂

  44. @ekwe, I know dear. And it irks me that I find it difficult to diversify my stories. But, I’m trying my hands on other stuff sha. We write continuously so we can grow 🙂
    @Qurr, hian! You sha used big english to say my mind 😀 and thanks

    Also, lemme quickly state that abuse is not the focal point of this story. But I guess I left it too open. Oh well, *shrug* thanks aagain :*

  45. @ach0wn I don’t think you can say what abuse will or won’t do to a person. Everyone has his/her own coping mechanisms. No one is the same. Even if A and B are abused ny the exact same person in the exact same way, it’s not 100% certain they will have the same reaction. Thanks for reading, and sharing your thoughts.

  46. @Qurr Says:

    @Cece Hian! Leave me to express myself jare. When I talk or type I just grab any appropriate word that comes to mind.

    And yes I agree with you, abuse is not the focal point. But yet I disagree because another form of abuse is the point. Her life was not really hers to live. That is not the way to parent. But them I’m not yet a parent so maybe I’m clueless.

    In all, Live free, girls. 🙂

    Dross Mic.

  47. Funmibi Says:

    Wow! A beautiful beginning, i can’t wait 4 d rest of it.

  48. @shettoo Says:

    While I doff my hat to the writing skill, I can’t really feel the “twist” pple are commenting about. The “when he taught me how to take care of myself” was the TELL for me and all I had to do was finish reading to see what I already “know”

    Her BOLDNESS though; a true son of her father. Nicely written

  49. This is just beautiful! Wow!!

  50. kennibal Says:

    I like this. No. I love this! Beautiful writing

  51. Just read the post again… *sigh* I can’t shout abeg. I just can’t.

  52. highlandblue Says:

    So Coco will claim I am dipping her in Jik if I say a word about this post. You rock girl. *drops pen and strolls into sunset*

  53. […] on for the following six days. Tomorrow we have The third Decade by @JadenTM. Decades so far. – The first Decade You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column or in the comments section) to follow the […]

  54. sheSays Says:

    One word for this post….BEAUTIFUL. Way to go, girl!

  55. […] on for the following four days. Tomorrow we have The Fifth Decade by @weird_oo. Decades so far. – The first Decade – The Second Decade – The Third Decade Also, Our dear AFROSAYS worked on a story in The […]

  56. MizB Says:

    Wow!these are so beautifully written!
    *doffs hat*

  57. ayo Says:

    Realy cool

  58. […] on for the following three days. Tomorrow we have The Sixth Decade by @Ms_Dania. Decades so far. – The first Decade – The Second Decade – The Third Decade – The Fourth Decade You can subscribe to the blog (at […]

  59. Fiyin Says:

    crazy!!!!!…i like

  60. while we're here Says:

    Camping trip is not a nigerian culture though..
    Great story otherwise

  61. Kemmiiii Says:

    OMG!! I can’t believe I carried last on this ish. School :(. I love eet tho.

  62. […] So, I’m here again with my monthly post. This was kinda inspired by my contribution to decades II. Some of the comments made me decide to attempt to write it from the father’s perspective. […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s