My hands started shaking again.
“What if they send me back?” I whispered.
Mr. Ade bent slightly and said,
“Look at me. Nobody is sending you back.”
His voice was firm.
Steady.
And somehow… it held me together.
A female officer came to us.
She didn’t rush me.
Didn’t shout.
She simply sat in front of me.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
Simple question.
But it broke me.
Everything I had been holding in…
Came out.
The words.
The pain.
The fear.
The nights I wished I could disappear.
When I finished—
The room was silent.
The officer’s jaw tightened.
“That is not culture,” she said slowly.
“That is abuse.”
I blinked.
“Abuse?” I repeated.
“Yes,” she said. “And it is a crime.”
A crime.
Not tradition.
Not something I was supposed to endure.
A crime.
For the first time in my life…
I felt seen.
By afternoon, everything changed.
Police vehicles entered my village.
Sirens loud.
Dust rising.
People gathered in confusion.
Whispers everywhere.
My parents stood outside.
Looking shocked.
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