Afraid.
“What is happening?” my mother asked.
The officer stepped forward.
“You will come with us.”
My father frowned.
“Why?”
“For what you allowed to happen to your daughter.”
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
My mother’s face turned pale.
My father tried to speak—
But the words didn’t come.
Then my grandfather appeared.
His head wrapped in cloth.
Eyes burning.
The moment he saw me—
He knew.
“You have destroyed this family,” he spat.
I trembled.
But this time—
I didn’t run.
Because someone stood in front of me.
Protecting me.
“No,” the officer said firmly.
“She saved herself.”
Those words hit differently.
Saved.
Not ruined.
Saved.
As they took them away…
The whole village watched.
Some shocked.
Some ashamed.
Some… silent.
Because maybe—
Deep down—
They knew.
Later that evening, I asked Mr. Ade the question that wouldn’t leave my mind.
“If it’s not tradition… why did they say it was?”
He sighed.
“Because it’s easier to control people with fear… than with truth.”
I looked down.
Tears fell quietly.
“So they lied to me… all this time?”
He nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
That night, I lay down again.
Same place.
Same small mat.
But everything felt different.
The fear wasn’t gone completely…
But it wasn’t in control anymore.
Because now I knew something powerful:
What happened to me…
Was never my fault.
And no matter how they tried to hide it—
Wrong…
Is still wrong.
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