I japa-ed before it became a thing.
I was young. I had just left school. Bright eyed and had just come to the UK to live. Hitherto, I had been coming for summer holidays. I would work at the warehouse. It’s usually the easiest job to get back then. I would make money, buy stuff from the UK, go and sell in Nigeria. But I wanted to come to live here on a permanent basis and I knew one of such routes would be the study route.
So put money aside, my dad also sold a few things to assist me and began to apply for scholarships. I got and I came on a student’s visa and was looking forward to extending it after my education. You know, even with scholarships, you still need money to survive in the UK.
Before I left naija, my elder sister, who’s house I always stayed at told me she and her husband would be leaving the UK. She was hoping to get a job in the US and so they were planning to relocate. I had hoped to be able to have enough money for my stay for at least six months, since it looked like I may have to find accommodation elsewhere. I didn’t get the money.
I japa-ed without a plan
Unfortunately for me, my sister and her family relocated before I landed in the UK, that summer.
She had given out her house to her husband’s cousin and his wife and their little son. The boy was about two years old. So the arrangement for me was that I would stay with my sister’s husband’s cousin until I could rent my own space.
I was thankful that my sister’s husband’s cousin even let me stay with them. I shared their little boy’s room. They had a bunk bed that my sister’s children had used, and so, I slept in the upper bunk while the boy slept in the lower bunk.
but after the first night, the husband came into the room and insisted I sleep on the lower bunk. I didn’t understand why at first.
I found out the following day that he would, under the pretext of coming to check on their son, be caressing me on the bed! He was naked under his bathrobe. This began the first few days I moved in with them!
I couldn’t begin to sleep in the upper bunk again.
Anyway, I offered his wife nanny services. I told her I would help her take care of her son…she was pregnant for the second at that time. This I hoped would help me be useful to her…nanny is expensive abroad, o.
I became a nanny by force
I became their nanny because they were helping me; I also became cleaner and cook for them, you know, just to show that I could be useful to them and I won’t get kicked out soon.
But after just a few days of me being in that house. The husband would not let me rest once he got home; he would come to the room to ask stupid questions with an erection!
“When are you going?”
“Why do you want to further your education?”
“Do you want to get married?”
Do you have a boyfriend?
Jamb questions, like Simi sang about.
I tried to be polite and answer his questions but he would come asking the same again. After a while, I knew he was looking for an opportunity to be with me.
One day I was ironing clothes his wife had dropped in the basket and he came behind me, held my waist and rubbed his thing on me…his penis nau. He would hold my waist as if he wanted to pass behind me and just grind…
At other times, he would just reach for my breasts…like. I mean, it was so wrong!
He did this even when his wife was in the kitchen or nearby but not looking at us.
You know how small London flats are. There was no time he would pass me, either in the hall to the bathroom or small corridor to the kitchen. He must hold my waist and grind before passing. He was always erect and I was constantly looking furtively about me whenever he was around.
He was practically chasing me with his p3n!s around the house
I was afraid. I tried to hide from him by remaining in the room whenever he was around but he would come into the room and stand close to me with an erection asking nonsense questions and touching me. His thing will be standing…every time!
Look, I didn’t have money to move out. I didn’t know any other person to move in with. So I endured and feared his wife would not catch us. Because you see, if she caught him, I would be the scapegoat. Will she send her husband out? Isn’t it me who will have to leave? But I also feared one day, it might be rape!
Who would I go to?
So I was always begging him. I told him I have a boyfriend one day and he told me to move in with the boyfriend or I should let him continue with me.
How could I? It was a lie I told, hoping he would stop grabbing at me.
I had just left school. I was young and felt violated.
You know the worst part, one day, he saw my passport and told me he was going to report me to the Home Office as I had violated some work visa issues.
You know, when you are new to a system, you have no idea where you can get help. You are running from authorities and hoping to get your papers done before they find you out. I was in that situation.
It became a hide and seek game in their little London flat
Many times, I would be in the bathroom, hoping he won’t catch me coming out to get into the room because you see, that would be another wahala. He became reckless to the point that I knew it was just a matter of days before his wife caught us.
I called my sister to report the matter to him because I was fed up and wasn’t sleeping. Would you believe I wore jeans to bed?
Why, you ask?
If he came to my bed at night, would I shout? Wouldn’t I be the one kicked out of the house in winter?
Anyway, I called my sister to report him, hoping she would call him to order or tell her husband to talk to him. You know what my sister said,
“Ha, shhhhh, don’t spoil the family, endure it.”
My sister said if the wife found out, it could ruin the family and her friendship with the woman.
She forbade me from letting his wife know…I knew I couldn’t even tell that one but then, I thought my sister would help.
I had to leave the house one day and went to a shelter for abused women somewhere in Croydon. I took my chances because I found out there are agencies who help abused women and girls. I found out that I could stay there until I was able to rent a small studio apartment for myself and only then was I able to start preparing for school. All of these happened in two weeks. Two weeks of landing in the UK and being chased around with a penis that I didn’t want.
Today, he claims he is a pillar of his society
To date, I met him at Nigerian events and he is always smiling, parading himself a pillar of his borough. I am tempted to go report him but you know, they say Nigerian women are the ones bringing down their men. The other thing they say is, Nigerians don’t like one another, that we tell on each other to the authorities. So I remain silent.
I am still traumatized by this incident. That for me was a turning point because I grew up in these weeks and knew I was on my own, going forward. Mine is a lot better than the other horror stories I hear of our people who can’t go back home.
This is what many Nigerian girls face when they leave home, not knowing they are easy prey to sex predators.
(Series written and edited by Peju Akande and based on true stories)