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in #writing6 years ago

I couldn't sleep. What the house maid did to my genitals the other day replayed in my head. I had to put my head under my pillow at some point but I still couldn't sleep. I checked the time. It was 3:03am. I stood up and started p
Pacing to and fro my room. I felt used. I felt useless. I couldn't cry anymore. I had cried enough.

The door of my room suddenly opened and my mother came in. I had been instructed never to close the door to my room again so that people could enter and leave as they liked. No one trusted me even my mother. Anyway, I was just 11 years old. They think I didn't need the privacy .

She took a few steps into my room and closed the door behind her. My heart skipped a beat as she walked into my room and folded her arms. I could see her eyes communicate disappointment to me. I just stood there frozen.

"Pastor said that I would soon catch you in the very act. So this is it, Biodun, you are a wizard?", she said, no single emotion remained in her towards me.

I could not even relate with what she was saying. Wizard? Me? Before I could process her words in my thoughts, she landed a hot slap across my face.

"Aje ossssshhhiii", she screamed. Why was she calling me a wizard?
"Who gave you Biodun? Where did you eat it from?", my mother was shouting. The slap she gave me made my eyes bleed with tears.

In no time, other people in the house came to my room. Just my dad and my elder sister were at home.

"Kilon shele ? What's happening here?", my father asked.

"E wo Baba Biodun. Look. See what your son did to me. ", she showed him a little cut she had on her neck.

My mouth went agape. Where? When? How?

"Pastor said I would soon catch him in the act.", she continued. "I woke up and came here only to find him wide awake with that in his hands." , she pointed to my right hand. It was then I realised that I had picked up a toothpick on my table in my absent-mindedness and reverie.

"I didn't do it.", I managed to mutter.

"So Biodun, you're the witch in this house. You made me lose my job and led my car to an accident. See your sister's JAMB result. Why do you hate us so much." , my father said bitterly.
My sister, who also believed so much in pastor left the room in tears. Everyone was disappointed in me. How was I going to say I had to idea of what they were talking about?

The next day was the worst day of my life. I was not allowed to go to school. My sister who loved me started treating me like a disease. In the evening , I was taken to pastor.

I trembled as I saw the fat cane the pastor brought out from his cupboard.
"Diostensens", he called out while looking at me.
My mum and dad were puzzled.

"That's the name of the demon in him. It is cast out only by flogging."

I started crying. I was going to be flogged for what I didn't have an idea of.

"Confirmed. The demon cries. This is really Diostensens." pastor said and began lashing me.

The first stroke hit me. I felt like dying. The pain was so much that after three strokes, I couldn't breathe well. I received 30 strokes of the cane. At some point, I passed out. I was woken again by lashes of the cane. My body was badly battered. I had been defaced too. I didn't cry again. I was hardened.

I looked at my mother, I saw hate. I looked in hate at my father. The pastor and all he represented would mean only hate to me.

I swore on my blood to avenge these people. I will become that wizard.

#Hate

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That child doesn't need 'deliverance', he needs love. The child is in need of who to talk to about his fears, his mistakes, his dreams, his vision. The child needs parental love. Don't conclude on what you do not know. That child is in need of listening ears. That child needs yours!

And to all of you misrepresenting God, repent. God is not in a fault finding ministry. Demons are cast our by words of mouth, not by violence.
The child may not be possessed. The child is just a child!

God is love and any thing not of love is not of God.