#Blogfest: Aisha

#Blogfest: Aisha

Hey guys!

It’s Christmas and the countdown to 2016 is still on as we celebrate writing, blogging and sharing with Elsieisy Blogfest. Here is me wishing you all a very merry Christmas and to also urge you to imbibe love. Love was born at Christmas. Let all you do today and always reflect Christ like in you and an unimaginable unconditional love.

Of all the piece sent in for the #Blogfest, i found this one written by Oluwaseun Ojewale most appropriate for today. Read through and do not forget to show some love as we celebrate.

Merry Christmas from Elsieisy.com

merry christmas from elsieisy blog

Read below:

#Blogest 2:0. Day 7 – #30dayscountdownto2016

Her name is Aisha

A pretty young girl who has seen her fair share of the bad side of life.Goodness to her is a strange entity, something that’s to be feared and shunned for she knows not what will be asked of her as reciprocation.

Joy is an alien feeling she hasn’t felt since being a toddler and those memories have been wiped clean by the filth she has gone through.Feeling secure and protected to her is synonymous to expecting snow in the desert.

She was assaulted at the tender age of six by people she thought of as uncles. She told her parents but they cast it aside as the rambling of a child. Uncle Kazeem and Malik can’t do that they said. Ooh I wish that were true. She was their play thing and as she had no one to turn to and no way to explain she was their perfect target.

She started hawking sachet water at six and for each missing kobo, she was whipped severely. A mere child made to hawk and give account for every kobo she was supposed to make. School was second to making money on her family’s list of priorities for her.

She was out early before six to beg and make a little income for her father from early rising Lagosians. She begs till past seven then returns home to prepare for school which she is regularly late to and is constantly punished without the tutor asking why she was always late.

Immediately after school she rushes back home for her day job is just about to start. She hawks whatever goods is placed on head and isn’t allowed to return home until she’s done with it all. This is her routine life.

At eleven when she started to understand what intercourse and sex really meant, she was raped by a so called cousin. She couldn’t tell her parents for they would not believe and she would get flogged for telling false tales.

This continued till she was fifteen. She hates the sight of any male and fears the touch of any man. Her skin crawls when men move too close to her and she literally runs when she makes skin contact with boys at school. She has been tagged a ‘weirdo’ but no one knows the pain she feels of the anguish she’s going through.

No one can phantom what she has been through in her short life; Abuse after abuse. Beaten and battered by people who are supposed to love her. A powerless young girl constantly abused by people who are supposed to care for her and with no one to turn to. She is bitter, sad, dejected and lost in a world that has only shown her cruelty.

We see countless numbers of Aisha’s around, in our vicinity, in our neighbourhood. We mostly walk past them. But have you ever taken time out to look at them? I mean really look at them. You’ll see the pain buried beneath their eyes. You’ll see the sad broken soul hidden beneath that mask she places daily on her face. You’ll see the wounds she tries desperately to cover up each day. All you have to do is look harder.

This is a challenge to all of you out there (mostly teachers at school because they spend a lot of time weekly with this kids), look harder, ask questions, care more, don’t take everything at face value. Query every injury; question every sad dejected look that passes across their faces. Don’t just do your normal day job and think it ends there.

Don’t just walk across your street and see her crying and walk on. Don’t just buy your water from her and not show care.


Even if the least you can do is to constantly say hi with a big smile, please do it.

Written by Ojewale Oluwaseun

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  1. Hi SeunThis indeed is the best post for Christmas. If we indeed celebrate Jesus for being born, then we should remember what Christ stood for which is love.This story reflects on the woes girls face in a society. You are right and I guess we are guilty. Thanks for sharing…..

  2. I’m highly touched by this story. Veey instructive.i am also very impressed with the talent of this blogist n how she puts it to positive use.

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