Let’s pretend that everything I’m about to tell you is the honest to goodness truth, no jara, no embellishments. Take this at face value, with an open mind.
Can I trust you to do that?
The first time I saw sex happen, it was on a TV screen. You won’t believe how many people find out about sex that way. I was 8 years old and restless as hell. I can’t remember what I was looking for when I stumbled on a VCD case hidden under the bed in my uncle’s room. On it was a picture of oiled butt cheeks and a man between them, his penis completely gone. It was like magic.
I remember feeling a tingling in my pants almost immediately, with a near-instinctive urge to watch the disc immediately. At least back then I still had sense, so I stole it and waited. A few days later, I had the house to myself (I thought I did anyway), NEPA was faithful and everything seemed to be in place just like devil had intended.
I barely put the thing in before the actors started taking off their clothes. Next thing, people were using their mouths and fingers in places I didn’t even know was possible.
I should have lowered the sound but I was too shocked to look away, let alone manage complex thought. So imagine my horror when the door slammed open and my uncle entered the living room, to catch me with my 4-inch erection in my hand.
My heart was racing and my life flashed before my eyes. My mother is Muslim and terrified by the thought of having a wayward child, and she flogs like she is possessed by the devil. I was already wondering what kind of grave they were going to bury me in. That was when I noticed our maid, Rachel standing beside him. They were both butt naked. The look on his face told me I wasn’t the only one who got caught.
He stormed into the living room, dick dangling everywhere, ejected the disc and stormed back to his room, leaving me and Rachel alone. I don’t what kind of evil took me, but I didn’t have to say anything and all I did was turn my attention to a certain part of her body.
She already knew what I wanted.
For the next few months, Rachel and I snuck around the house when my uncle wasn’t around, messing around. Twisted as this all sounds, back then it felt like a game and a kind of ‘fuck you’ to my uncle. I got to share vaginas with my uncle and get do things only the ‘big’ kids were only dreaming about.
Talk about a big fucking score right?
This lasted until nearly a year later, my mother decided she was done with having housemaids under her roof. Here I was, 9 years old with the libido of rabbits and no way to relief myself.
There was one silver lining though, with Rachel gone, I could finally freely talk about my escapades without worrying that somehow it would get back to her or worse, my uncle or mother. So I started talking to all the ‘older’ kids, dropping details that you would only know if you’d ‘done’ it.
Because I was young and stupid, I eventually told them who I had done all of the interesting things I knew with. And how I had (accidentally) started it. Once the idea was planted in their heads. All the 13 and 14 year olds in my estate crazed by puberty started building secret porn collections (it was/is ridiculously easy to buy porn right off the street in Lagos). The trick was, find a way to get your maid alone, slot in a porn flick, wait till it starts doing her body like…
It worked, at first. A lot of the boys had maids who had grown up with them, so it wasn’t hard convincing them. Once they had done it a few times, I’d ask to join in, and get some. But we were kids and stupid, and before long somebody got caught and started snitching.
Once the snitching started, it spread like wild fire. We started hearing some serious horror stories about the other kids getting caught and receiving the kind of beatings that gave me secondhand chest pain. Some even got sent to the village, others to boarding school.
My mother heard about it and didn’t even waste time. She didn’t want her innocent son to be moving around with all those wayward children so she told me to pack my things and get ready for boarding school.
I pretended to protest but I was more than glad to leave. By that time the people I had had sexual relations with had gone up to double digits. I knew if I stayed at home, someone would snitch on me or I would get caught.
How was I to know that boarding school is a whole different game. I was jumping from frying pan to fire.
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