“You come here every day…”


“You come here every day and you stare in our window.”



The little girl looked up at the young man, her brown eyes large with earnestness before she said solemnly “Because you have DSTV.”

“DSTV?” The young man blinked in surprise.

“Uhn.” She nodded to drive home her point. “My Mommy says maybe one day we’ll be able to afford DSTV, but until then I come here to look.”

The young man looked her over, amusement tugging at his lips. She couldn’t be more than seven or eight in his estimation. Indeed, he was only twice her age.

He bent over, resting his palms on his knees to bring himself to her eye level. “What’s your name?” He asked, taking in her smooth coffee coloured skin as it glimmered in the dusky afternoon light.


“Nasa…” he echoed, testing the name on his tongue. “Would you like to come in?”

From then on she came every day, shy to knock on the door but with eagerness dancing in her eyes. They soon had a ritual of sorts between them. She always watched the same thing; Beetlejuice, then Johnny Quest, sitting on the floor next to the couch he sat on, supported on one arm, eyes glued to the screen, and munching on the fruit he’d set out for her. Just before early nightfall at 6pm her housemaid would come knocking on the door, signaling the daily end of their easy companionship and the beginning of rituals of bath and bed.

Then one day she wore that skirt.

It was not as though he had not seen the skirt before. She wore it every other day, but today, this day, it was different. Something was off about it. It seemed shorter than before, tighter than before and yet looser than before so much so that it was wont to ride up to give teasing glances of a suddenly delicious looking ass.

What happened?

Pius shook his head to clear his thoughts but they seemed determined to set his feet on the road to hell. There she was, lying prone on the carpet, her face in her hands, laughing at the antics of the no good black and white hero on the screen, and all he could see was the sweet little cleft her panties were drawn into when she shook with laughter.

Pius blinked. Severally.

“Dede Pius, can I have a Fanta?” Her brown eyes were staring into his own, making his head spin.

When the hell did she get up here?

Grateful for a break from his traitorous thoughts, he rose from the couch and made his way to the kitchen to retrieve the requested drink for her. It was ice cold but she gulped it down and burped her thanks, even as her eyes shone with pleasure from the sweet drink. He knew he shouldn’t be giving her Fanta without her mother’s permission and she knew she shouldn’t be asking, but he couldn’t help but indulge her and she knew he wouldn’t tell.

When she dropped the bottle, his heart skipped a beat. The glass bottle made a dull hollow ringing sound as it bounced on the carpet. She bent over to get it but it slipped through her fingers causing her to lean even further to grab at it. Pius mopped the sweat from his brow with his hand. Why was it suddenly so hot?

Why do I feel like this? Oh God, I can see her panties again. They’re right in my face. They’re clinging.. . Wait, is that her pussy? Oh God, what the fuck am I thinking? She’s just a kid. Hell, I’m practically just a kid too. Oh fuck…!

Nasa having retrieved and replaced the bottle safely on the table was kneeling in front of him and staring at the very conspicuous bulge in the middle of his trousers.

“What’s that Dede?” Her hand reached for the hidden foreign object as the words left her mouth but soon she squealed in surprise as his hand encircled her wrist roughly yanking her away from the prize she sought.

“Don’t… touch it.” He ground out from between clenched teeth. He was now sweating profusely and it trickled down the sides of his face in rivulets.

“W-why? What is it? I’m s-sorry.” She wailed, looking to be on the verge of tears.

The image of a weeping eight year old girl sniffling and dripping snot all over him was enough to shake him out of his near dream state.

“Don’t cry…” he said softly, gathering her up into his arms to offer comfort as though to apologise for his earlier gruffness. Sniffing she nodded and hugged him back, indicating her momentary hurt was gone and re-cementing their friendship once more.

They stayed like that for long minutes, each simply enjoying the warmth of the other’s body and the steady thump of their hearts, until Nasa began to squirm. Her leg had fallen asleep so she wiggled trying to move into a more comfortable position.

Pius, while quite understanding of Nasa’s need to move, was now painfully aware that she was sitting right on his still engorged penis. Every movement she made sent delicious sensations fluttering up his spine but the guilt of it all was threatening to eat him alive. She made one particularly pleasurable wriggle and this time he actually let out a small groan.

Nasa’s eyes snapped to his face immediately. “Dede, are you alright?” Her voice was full of concern, thinking she was somehow hurting him. “Am I too heavy? My Mommy says I’m growing really fast.” There was a hint of pride at this fact. She was now the tallest in her class.

“N-no.” He panted out. “You’re not too heavy.” You’re just perfect.

“Oh, okay then.” And she wriggled once more, annoyed that she seemed unable to get comfortable.

Pius’s hands flew up to steady her fidgeting form.

“D-don’t move.” He whispered, his voice roughened by lust. She stopped, watching him, more out of curiosity than anything else. He let his hands trail down her back before the slipped underneath that ridiculous little skirt and cupped her ass.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. No one had ever touched her there before. Not really. Except for bath time, and Mommy had said she was becoming a big girl now and would have to bathe herself, so no one had touched her there in a while.

This touch felt different though. Rough, and full of possession. Nasa didn’t know what to make of it so she said nothing.

“Now,” he said, his voice low, “move… like this.” And his hands guided her back and forth as she slid along his erection providing delicious friction.

“Faster!” He choked out, his hands moving on her slim hips in a frenzy.

The friction… feels so good… but I need more. I need… more… heat.

Reaching between them underneath her skirt he undid the zipper of his jeans, exposing himself to her then he yanked the crotch of her panties to the side so that she was bare against him while her heat drove him to brink of a pleasure induced haze.

“Dede, I want to stop. My legs ache.” came her whine but he didn’t care. He wanted too much, could feel too much. He wanted more.

“Just a little longer Nasa.” He whispered in her ear as he held her to him and dragged her hips forward with one hand.

“Just a little longer and you can stop. This makes me very happy. You make me very happy. We’re friends aren’t we? Don’t you want to make me happy?”

Nasa’s leg ached, but it was only a little cramped, and she did want to make Dede happy. He was her friend after all, and probably her best friend too because which other friend did she have that could let her watch Cartoon Network on their TV? She didn’t have many friends even. She was always lonely anyway, but Dede was so nice to her.

“I want…”she panted, energy depleted from the effort “I want to make you happy Dede.”

At this he smiled, and kissed her on the forehead. “Best friends forever?”

She nodded. “Best friends forever.”

“Good girl.” He nuzzled her and held her close. ” Friends do nice things for each other. If you do this nice thing for me sometimes when you come here, I promise I’ll let you watch Cartoon Network whenever you want as much as you want.”

Nasa’s eyes widened at this promise that seemed almost too good to be true. Her heart was full to bursting.

Dede Pius is such a nice friend!!

Not wanting to let her best friend down she redoubled her efforts but registered some alarm when he began to groan and shake uncontrollably.

“Dede, are you okay? Should I stop?”

He didn’t answer but gently pushed her off him before reaching for a cloth that was lying on the end table and turning to shield her from the sight of his semen coating the rag.

“You’re such a good girl Nasa.” he touched her cheek gently and marveled at how she leaned into his touch. She was so starved for attention, and when they were alone like this he paid attention to her and only her.

“This is our little secret, you know that right? So you mustn’t tell anybody. Not even your Mommy or Aunty Bose or even your best friend at school. Do you understand?”

“I understand!!” Her smile was radiant. She was still basking in the joy of being told she had any time access to all her favourite cartoons.

Suddenly, the door bell rang.

“I guess it’s time for you to go. See you tomorrow, and remember to keep our secret or I’ll be hurt and I won’t let you watch cartoons.”

“I’ll keep our secret! I won’t tell anyone!” The little girl promised earnestly, worried that somehow their fragile pact might be broken by the slightest misdeed.

“Good girl. Now go find your shoes while I answer the door.”

Giving her once last glance as she scampered off to find her jelly sandals, Pius strolled to the door to let Nasa’s mother in.

“Thank you so much for watching her!”

“No problem Ma, any time. She’s a good girl. She sits quietly and does her homework, and after that I put on cartoons for her.”

“Mommy!!!” The little girl launched herself at her mother, her feet now clad in sparkly pink see through sandals.

“Nasa, say good night to Uncle Pius, and tell him thank you for allowing you to watch cartoons.”

Whirling around, she put on her sweetest smile and half-curtsied.

“Thank you Dede Pius!! See you tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome Nasa! Come back any time.”


A girl walked into the Surulere branch of Union Bank clutching to her chest a piece of paper. She had turned sixteen two days ago and now she was here to deposit a gift from a generous aunt. In her hands she held a cheque to deposit into her very first account.

Waiting in line for the teller she couldn’t help beaming inwardly. Her very first cheque, and for more money than she had ever had all together in her life. Her mother had always said something good had to come out someday of having rich relatives.

I guess she was right.

Her aunt had been especially generous, and as the teller beckoned towards her she stepped forward to declare herself two hundred thousand Naira richer.

“Alright ma, I’m about to deposit it, just sign here please.”

“Excuse me,” Nasa looked up. A man was trying to get her attention. “Excuse me. Do I know you?”

Nasa rolled her eyes.

You would think the pick up lines in a bank would be any better but they just get cheesier and cheesier.

“I don’t think so. And I don’t know you. Maybe you have the wrong person?” She signed the back of the cheque with a flourish and a small rush of pride. She had just perfected that signature the week before, for just this very event.

“I’m not mistaken. I do know you. You’re Nasa.”

Nasa paused and turned to study the young man, trying to figure out how he could know her name. To her eyes, he bore a fleeting resemblance to another young man, one who had lived in her compound that her family shared with two other families, but he had moved away years ago, and the memories were mostly cottony fuzz.

“I’m sorry but I don’t really remem-”

“Nasa! ” He took a step forward. “How could you forget me? Don’t you know me? It’s me! Pius!”

Nasa felt a bone-chilling cold wash over her soul. Yes, she did remember him. And with remembrance, terror came close on its heels.

“Nasa!” He came closer, a smile plastered on his face. “Nasa …”

Nasa turned and fled.


In 1996, we moved to Surulere, and Nasa was the seven year old me.

Pius’ name hasn’t been changed but his age has, albeit inadvertently. I just realised I wrote Pius as being twice Nasa’s age, when in reality he was at least three times my age at twenty-one or possibly older.

Looking back as an adult, I now understand the reason for Pius’ sudden disappearance. Based on my experiences as a Nigerian adult, It has dawned on me that Pius must have simply been visiting with his married older brother Andy while he was waiting for his university to come off strike or some other such situation.

The scene at the bank never happened.

I simply wrote it as a way to gain closure for something that tormented me for years causing me to struggle with a crushing sense of guilt about it as I remember that I was a willing participant.

The problem is though, a seven year old cannot be a willing participant to sexual activity with a grown man.

To my seven year old brain, it was impossible to understand the things he made me do with him, and the things he did to me. All I remember is that they felt good, and so I wanted him to continue. He told me not to tell anyone or I wouldn’t be able to watch cartoons anymore, and so I never did.

There are 35 comments

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    • sugabelly

      It haunted me for the longest time, but slowly, eventually, I was able to let it go. I don’t think I am chained by this experience anymore. Later experiences, yes, but no longer this one.

    • sugabelly

      It is not the duty of mothers to raise children. It is the duty of both parents. Boy children also get molested too, AND not only men do the molesting.

  1. Rivers Boy

    Excellently told. So real and It still happens. Thank you for exposing this. Shame some mothers still leave their female child at the mercy of temptations. What a way to get her hooked to such fun at such tender age.

  2. anonymous

    This is so sad, even if nasa enjoyed it she was continuously raped at a very tender age. But the thing is that her mom made the biggest mistake cos d guy was young too. I’ll never leave my daughter in the care of any male!!!!! God knows.
    Who knows? They may become close and start something serious that’s if its a true life story. I guess that part would make the bitter story somewhat sweet.

  3. Uche

    Oh my goodness!!! I knew where the story was going but the buildup was so well written, so maddening. I was getting upset reading that boy even thinking to act on his thoughts. And the years later portion…makes me wonder how long the abuse lasted and when Nasa realized it was abuse.

    • sugabelly

      I actually wrote this in 2010, but I never explained what it was or that the story is true. This is the first time I’ve decided to talk about what happened. Remembering it gives me chills too, because even though I now know what happened was wrong, all I can remember is pleasure.

  4. Dee

    Funny,I had a conversation like this with a couple of friends, only one out of us was fortunate enough to not have been molested as a kid.
    In my case, it was two ‘neighbours’, a teenage boy and a man (not at the same time of course).
    I was 8.
    I told my mum about them when i started feeling really scared and uncomfortable around them
    My mum attacked them with a pistle.
    That’s when I had my closure.
    Speak about it ladies
    Thanks Sugabelly

  5. TOr

    Go’head Shug. I think about my own story as I read again, same age. How I too enjoyed it. How it tormented me.
    and I only want to thank you for writing (y)our story. I’m glad some peace comes of it for you.

  6. Mosho

    “I simply wrote it as a way to gain closure for something that tormented me for years causing me to struggle with a crushing sense of guilt about it as I remember that I was a willing participant.

    The problem is though, a seven year old cannot be a willing participant to sexual activity with a grown man”

    The paragraphs above resonated so deeply within me. Thank you in particular for this: “A seven year old cannot be a willing participant to sexual activity with a grown man”.

    Having experienced sexual abuse from about that same age till I was about 11, with not too dissimilar circumstances as you depicted here, I always felt a bit reluctant to share my sexual abuse or classify it as sexual abuse, knowing that sometimes it felt “good” being singled out for such “special attention” and I seemed to always present myself as a willing participant. I felt, probably still do feel, a lot of guilt and therefore I have consciously blacked out that phase of my life. It’s too complicated to think about so I don’t try to. But this piece of yours gave me a sense of peace, as I realised that I just did not have the mental or physical capacity to be a willing sexual partner to the grown men that sexually abused me. Never mind that there was no real penetration but from when I was seven I already knew what semen smelt like… I guess it is a sort of “miracle” that I waited to 18 before I had my first real sexual experience and at age 33, have had “only” 5 sexual partners one of whom is my husband.

    Sugarbelly, I thank you for sharing this experience painful as it may still be. It has been a healing, worthwhile read for me.

  7. anon

    nawa ooo, great gifts comes with great challenges…..face ur dreams and the challenges would be nowhere…..u’re a great writer and ur drawings are amazing, abeg find my tweet n send ur email, lets discuss biz (my wedding pix illustration)

  8. toni

    Mmmmmm….., so short of words the imagies keep coming up in my head as i read through you piece. fear was all i got, thinking of the experience alone drives me mad. Nice work on your write ups you have this way of using your stories to free others. Am so glad am part the few that read your blogs!.

  9. Nkemakonam Linda Guyse

    Hugs and love are all I can send your way. I share in the pain of sexual child abuse and rape and different stages of my life but I survived.
    I am glad you are lending your voice to the millions out there who need to be heard. Thank you for adding your light to this dim world and sharing your pain.
    You are not alone I can assure you and it breaks my heart but that’s the truth.

    I am glad our path crossed and with all our voices and light we will help amplify the message of hope to others hurting.

  10. Miss Agege

    First, sorry that you had to experience this. Second , I love your blog . I just discovered it the other day and I’m hooked. Something of the same sort happened to me, I just don’t let it define me. Also the way you write I really really envy. Have you every thought about writing a novel ?

  11. Susan

    This was a truly emotional piece. I couldn’t detach myself from nasa. First curiosity, then irritation, disbelief, disgust, helplessness, anger and a host of vague emotions flooding in. I have some kind of partial amnesia and I can’t remember anything before my second primary 3. (We moved and I was very sick.) I have memory flashes of being molested and the major feeling is denial. I don’t want to remember or believe that any of it happened. I believe that some children somehow develop amnesia as a defense/protective mechanism to combat horrid memories.

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