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My Personal Demons

Dear Chimere,

When I confessed my feelings to you, and then asked you to be my woman, you’d asked me if there were any secrets I was hiding from you. Although you’d said that joculary, I was hit by a tsunami of guilt, and with a fake smile, I had replied that you would have to find those out yourself.

Yes, we have been best friends for over five years now. And although I have told you things about me; although I have opened up myself to you; although I have shown you my flaws, there are still some parts of me you do not know, parts of me you would not imagine would belong to me even in your worst nightmares. I now want to open up these catacombs of dirty secrets to you. I hope you can stand the stench.

When I was young, my mother had wanted me to be a Catholic priest. It was, for her, a way to give back to God her first fruit. So early enough, I knew that I was meant for the seminary, and all my actions were geared towards my getting into one of the best seminary schools around. I studied the Bible with the same fervor with which I ate, knew my Catechism by heart and could recite everything that was said at Mass before I was ten—in Latin.

But Fate had other things in store for me. My life turned around two days after my eleventh birthday. I discovered sex. Funny, right?

That day, I had gone to watch movies at a neighbour’s house. My father had financial problems, so the power company disconnected our house from the general power supply. There were three other children that had also come to watch movies with me. I can still remember the movie we watched, a Nigerian movie by the title Market Seller. It was an interesting movie, but halfway through the movie, I slept off.

I woke up to find the daughter of the occupants of the house on top of me, kissing and licking me all over. I was bemused and made to stand up, but she held me back, whispering words that were beautiful yet indecipherable. Now, thirteen years later, I cannot recall the details of that evening, but the effects of it had stayed with me.

I cannot count the number of times I had sex with that particular girl, Linda, although she was seven years older than I was. What was more interesting to me was that I enjoyed every bit of it. And when she later left for the university, I found out that I loved sex more than anything. I tried to forget my escapades with her, but it would have been easier to breathe underwater than to delete those moments from my mind.

Sex had become a part of me, and I had to find a way to satisfy myself. It was during this time that I did the most abominable thing a human being can do. It was one hot afternoon, I was hungry and I went into the kitchen to look for food. When I saw no food there, I barged into my sister’s room to find out why she hadn’t prepared the food mom asked her prepare.

But as I swung open her door, I became still; I was rooted to the spot because I beheld a sight I was not supposed to see, yet couldn’t bring myself to turn away from. She had apparently finished taking her bath and was dressing up. She turned suddenly, and I took a sharp breath of instant, naked lust. In quick, hungry strides, I closed the distance between us, and stared into her shocked eyes. Then as if possessed by a demon I had no control over, I landed my hungry, hot lips on hers, allowing her to feel the full blast of the wind of my lust.

And she returned the kiss with the same intensity, sucking and nibbling and at my lower lip. Deftly I removed her barely worn clothes, and as my rough hands touched her breasts, the light of reasoning, which hitherto had seemed disconnected, was fixed again. I pulled away from her as if her body was hot coal, and with an ashamed look at her, I flew from her room.

I was thirteen then and in my JSS3. After the incident, I pleaded with my parents to send me to a boarding school. I had wanted to be as far away as I could from my sister. I was feeling so guilty of my actions that I would have run away from home if they had not acceded to my pleas. They had agreed because I was a bright student; they saw my idea of being a boarding student as a way I could study more, away from the distractions at home (if only they knew how right they were about the distractions). They had also wanted me to change to a seminary school then, but I told them that I wanted to finish secondary school first, so as to have an experience of what a normal school felt like before joining the seminary. They had also agreed, but I knew then that priesthood was not for me.

Boarding school proved to be a tough affair, but it did not help to quell the fire of lust in me. Within the first few weeks, I discovered that there was a mini-brothel close to the school, and that was it. I would usually scale the school fence with some of my classmates during night prep and with just N200, we would have the fire in our loins extinguished—at least for the night. Back then, N200 was a huge amount of money, but I had no problem bringing it out. This was because I was usually winning inter-school competitions, and the prizes were enough to sustain me. Then there was the money my parents sent to me regularly.

Sometime in my SS2, my mother gave birth to another boy. It was one of those unexpected late pregnancies that shocked everyone. I was ecstatic about the birth of my brother, because I believed that he was the priest my mother wanted in her home and not me. I was sure that I was not cut out for the stringent rules of seminary life and the celibate life of priests jangled my nerves.

As I predicted, my younger brother was the one with the gift of a priest. He is currently in the seminary and I have no doubt that he would make a good priest.

As for me, I became unhinged; I became a living, breathing image of sexual desires. Throughout my university days, I was jumping from one girl to another. Most of my girlfriends (you know many of them) were not able to keep up with my demands for sex and they quit the relationship. Others did not want a relationship based on sex and the relationship crashed like a poorly built skyscraper.

You have always taunted me about the way I changed girlfriends, but what you do not know is that I have a sex demon living inside of me. I had complained to some of my male friends, and they had laughed it off. They had told me that my village people were really on my case.

Maybe my problem is from the village, maybe I’m possesed by a demon, maybe this is how I was made, but now that you know what I am, would you accept me as yours?

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