The Beatings Was My Food..Teenage Diary Of An Abused Child

The Beatings Was My Food..Teenage Diary Of An Abused Child


Now I’m staring at my screen. Don’t really know where to start from ’cause my life, my experience, they played a great role in moulding me to who I am today.

I lost my dad at the age of two and raising five kids with a pregnancy was very tedious for my Mum. But she scaled through till I was four when an Aunt; Dad’s sister took me in.

For almost seven years, I lived with my Aunt far away from Mum and family and I only got to see my Mum twice in those years.

I was accompanied by my elder brother who ran away a year later from the pain of domestic violence from our Aunt. According to him, “when I eventually found my way home, I couldn’t tell anyone my experience because I feared the outcome if my Aunt got to know.” It sounds funny, but even when you’re far away from your abuser, you still see their shadows following you.

Those seven years where years of pain of which each day was filled with tears and fears.

I was stepped on, thrown against the wall, mercilessly beating, several teeth bites and continually being spat on. Somedays, the beatings was my food.

I never did anything right and I never got praised for my big or little efforts. She called me names and always made me know I am a nobody and without her, I’ll just be dead.

She painted my Mum black to me and told me Mummy cared less about me because my Mum already knows that, amidst the six, I will amount to nothing.

I walked around with an aura of low self-esteem and been the girl who always comes to school with a new scar or wound curled into bandages, I was extremely reclusive.

I lied to Teachers and Students about the wounds till I couldn’t lie no more because of the constant new ones that quickly replace the old fresh wounds..

I was broken and shattered from an early age. I was timid and scared always. I never knew what love is and sometimes I feel really numb when someone tries to love me.

I was emotionally traumatised and physically drained. The tiniest slam of the door makes me shudder and I would wake at the drop of a needle.

My life was terrible as I always looked down on me as a “Nobody” I lived with the hurt and pain from my childhood and refused to open up.

“No-one would believe me and I feared the outcome if I ever tell my experience of the visible scars from the welts.”

I was mute. I lived in this darkness for a long time. I left my Aunts place at age eleven, but I never really faced my pain and emotional trauma till age eighteen.

I became self-destructive and I attempted suicide severally. I wanted to end it all because no one believes in me when I eventually opened up.

I then meet a virtual friend who beliefs in me and took my story for true. My life story would be incomplete without mentioning him.


He made me realize I had to start loving myself despite what I had been told. He stood with me and made me realize “I” am the only one who  could help myself  break free from my hurt.

Pained, frustrated and angry, I followed suit with him and he stood by watching me pick every shreds and observed how I fixed the mend.

He didn’t help me, other than his continual advice and yes, I got hurt, I fixed it wrongly and had to start all over again till I was able to make a beauty out of my mess.

“I choose to be happy and live above the hurt. It was meant to mould and shape me, not destroy me.” This truth as kept me going till date and even when I look at the scars, I just smile and know it made me.

Now to everyone going through an abuse out there, I know how it feels. I understand the pain, I feel your plight, but the first step to recovery is to “open up!”

Don’t be silenced by that monster who has turned you to a punching bag. If you see anyone around going through the same, open up for them. They are not their self anymore and they don’t have to be blamed. They hardly understand why they do the things they do and they are dead scared of their own shadows.


To everyone out there, don’t take stories of Domestic Violence victims for granted. You might save a soul by believing that awful story.

Domestic violence demeans. Emotional and physical abuse destroy a great part of anyone life.

I was there!

I know how it feels and I wish everyone out there in my shoes would see the light at the end of the tunnel and rush to it.

Don’t be silenced!

Open up!.

Believe you can heal no matter how hard it seems.



  1. I can’t still summon the courage to write my own story.jst lyk urs but myn I was raped by both dad nd son.wish I will hv d courage someday.

  2. We hear These this type of stories every time mosty in Africa where people maltreat children because they not their biological children this act is very bad.we women need to stop this, treat all children like yours.

  3. As always, opening up is the first step to healing and then letting God give you rest is utmost and important, Cox his joy and peace cannot be taken away by anyone except you decide to give it up
    My heart reaches out to those who have gone through violence one way or the other, God help you and
    Know care, we are always available to talk, a shoulder you can lean on do not be afraid, we fight and stand together. One love