Have you ever been blamed for something you didn't do? Or for something you had no control over? I guess everybody has, at some point of their lives. Don't you think it's crazy? I mean you know, I know, we know, they know , that this is or was definitely beyond our power , how then do they expect us to prevent it?

Now, there are two angles to this. One being that you are being blamed for something in which you were the only participant. Scratch that, you were just a witness. An example is, you did the laundry and spread the clothes under the sun to dry. You had an outing with friends, got home and realized it had rained and the clothes were drenched. Remember, you did the whole house's laundry.

Mummy is angry, Daddy is livid. Is there a way that could have been controlled? Whereas, the rain didn't even give signs, there was jo warning that said 'hey girl, I'm going to be down at exactly twelve noon. This is a public service announcement, so make sure to pack in your clothes before then'. You're getting the drift, right? Then, the other angle being that you are taking the blame for something someone else did. Maybe like a burglary or a road accident.

Again, there are two angles to this. The first being that the culprit is totally unaware that you are on a grill. And the second is that the culprit is very much aware that you are on the grill, but then they don't care neither do they give two flying chickens. They're living their life, going about their day and laughing at you. Unfortunately, this was my case.

I was six when it happened. I didn't give it much thought because as at then there was no reason to think about it. Even Sex Education class, a year after still didn't give me a reason to ponder on it. My class teachers were extra and now that I think about it, it was for a good cause. God bless?

Mrs Okon and Miss Agunwa. In their words, we weren't 'too young to learn how to protect ourselves'.

My primary school was an international school. It was initially an orphanage home founded by a Japanese, in Nigeria. Children from different places and backgrounds were brought to this 'village', as it was called. Some, their payhad strayed due to various reasons. Others were brought by their biological parents who didn't have the resources to raise them. I remember seeing a newborn baby boy who was brought to my school by medical officials after his seventeen year old mother had ran away from the hospital. SOS Herman Gmeiner Children's Village was the best place for every child to be. Years later, the village decided to build a school and admit children from outside, 'outsiders' so that the 'SOS children' can interact with children other than themselves. That birthed SOS Herman Gmeiner Primary School and Kindergarten.

The school and the village existed in the same land space. The village had ten houses in which the children were shared into and each house had a mother, who was either a widow or a divorcee, and an aunt. It happened that my Dad was friends with the mother in House ten, so I usually stayed over at House ten while waiting for my mom to come pick me after school. School closed at two pm and it usually took her about two hours to get to my school and her workplace closed later. One of my classmates, Joshua was in House ten and another, Oyinda was in House nine. Being that this houses were side by side, the three of us played together. On that fateful day, I wasn't in the mood to play with the boys, so I went inside to sleep on the couch in the living room. I don't know if I had slept for long or not, all I remember was feeling someone's weight on me.

Little me thought it was a dream until I felt someone move over me like they were gliding. I opened my eyes and goythe shock of my life, why? Joshua was on top of me NAKED! He was imitating what I guess would have been erotic scene from a PG sixteen or eighteen movie . I was young but not stupid. Still trying to understand what exactly was going on, I saw that this boy had raised my school uniform to my waist, obviously my panties and tights were on display for his curious eyes. Immediately, I pushed him off me, adjusted my dress, carried my bag and went back to my class. I stopped waiting for my mom at House ten, gave her the excuse that I would rather play with some of my 'female' friends whose parents also came late.

All thanks to Mrs Okon, Miss Agunwa and Dumebi, this incident was revisited. It was school over and I was sitting at Palaba hut with my cousin, Ronke, and Dumebi, our friend and classmate. Earlier that day, we were taught in class that ' your private parts belongs to you and if anyone tries to touch you in your vagina or penis, shout and report them '. I remember we all burst into laughter because of Mrs Okon's theatrics. The girls were talking about what we saw in movies and what not, then I told them about Joshua with the ending phrase 'promise you won't tell anybody'. I even went further with 'cross your heart'.

Little did I know that the phrase 'don't tell anybody ' is the needed encouragement for your listener to become a teller. Ronke also told us her almost rape attempt by her cousin. Fast track to some weeks later, Ronke and I were summoned by our Head teacher, Mr Dada. We didn't know why, but we definitely knew it was something common to the between us. On getting to Mr Dada's office, we met our mothers. How? When? Why? Not only did we see our mothers, Dumebi's mom was present and our class teachers were also summoned.

As the sharp girl that I was and I still am, I put two and two together and concluded that indeed did Dumebi not tell anybody but she told SOMEBODY! Tell me why she told her medical doctor - mom who also happened to be the Vice Chairman of the Parents and Teachers Association. Then the questioning began with 'what did you both tell Dumebi?' and we replied with 'i didn't tell Dumebi anything ' simultaneously. The whole matter was tabled and God knows I have never see my mom angry the way she was that day, even till today. To be e clear, her anger wasn't directed at me. She asked for Joshua to be called but my class teachers said they were going to handle him. Everything was settled there, mothers hugged their daughters, and we were admonished to always let our parents know whatever was going on with us.

Now, to the plot twist..... Would you believe that my class teachers actually, blatantly and glaringly without mincing words blamed me and Ronke for what happened to us.

'Your school uniform is too short.'

'I have always told you to cross your legs. Sit like a lady.'

'I'm sure your legs were scattered when you were sleeping.'

'He's a boy.'

WHO SLUT-SHAMES A SEVEN YEAR OLD GIRL??? ANY GIRL AT ALL???

Mind you, nothing was done to Joshua. And he knew that was why we or rather, I was summoned because I was slut-shamed in front of the whole class, with them all laughing at my cousin and I. The same people we expected to have our backs were the ones that ridiculed us. God bless my mother who went after Joshua and reported him to his house's mother, she punished him all through the weekend and he came to school the following week angry with me. I'm so proud of that little girl for cutting him off, for someone who was somewhat a people pleaser. My amiable class teachers then made me and Ronke the only pupils to answer questions in sex education classes since 'you have refused to learn how to protect ourselves yourselves.' Just so you know, we both cut Dumebi off.

It's sad to see girls and women bear the brunt for something in which the are the actual victims. It's even sadder that rape is the only crime in which the victim is blamed.

'What were you wearing?'

'Why did you pass that route?'

'Men will always be men.'

Who tells my story when I have been shunned at such a young age? Who tells our stories when we've been shamed even before talking? Who tells these stories when they believe that anything that happens to us is our fault? How do people learn from our stories when there's no one to tell them?