Great Mind Writer

Episode 8: My mother, blinded by a monthly allowance, chose silence over my pain. As long as the money kept flowing money to take care for my younger siblings, she doesn't care at all, she has refused to call or even hear my cries. Every night, my aunt’s husband would slip into my room as usual, steal my body, and vanish before morning. And just like a rehearsed performance, everyone in that house would act like nothing happened. He’d show up at my school, take me to hotels, and pretend it was love. Somewhere along the line, I started to confuse trauma for affection. I hated myself for it… but I do not have the courage to confront him about raping me and taking away my first child. Before I could gather my thought, I discovered I was pregnant again, this time I was already 18years. And he told me to drop out of school, claiming it was unsafe to continue with the pregnancy, fed me sweet lies, promising we’d escape abroad, just the two of us once the baby arrived. Now he ke...

Today feels heavy, my body rebels, a quiet ache stirring within. Tears beg for release, but my eyes hold them captive I'm unraveling in silence. I reach for laughter, searching for light in the shadows, something to soothe the chaos inside And there it is 'a video' a simple Vlog, yet it cradles me like a lullaby The camera dances gently, like waves on a still lake and her smile so effortless, so kind stirs a warmth in my chest I smile too, not because the pain is gone but because, for a moment, it doesn’t feel so loud. Type of Poetry: Free Verse Inspired by Martha Ehinome

Episode 7: That same evening, I had stepped out to buy something only to realize I didn’t have enough money on me. I returned home quietly to grab some money and that was when I walked in on them arguing "Aunty and her husband". They didn’t even notice I was there. You already know I’m not allowed near my own child. But that night I overheard some strange things. Aunty’s husband was so angry, confronting her about why she wouldn’t let me hold my baby. He said, “Two people are suffering here, the mother and the child.” Aunty was just busy shouting back, insisting he had no right to speak to her like that even though he was the father. In their heat of their argument, I stood frozen, unseen. My heart pounded. I had remembered naming her Pamilerin “Laughter” but Aunty refused and insisted they call her “Miracle”. Her husband mentioned the least she could do was to treat me with some kindness. Then she said something that sent chills down my spine 'she told him I did...

Episode 6: I still remembered the moment the Ghanaian house help left. From that day on, I was all alone, left to care for myself and do all the cleaning. Aunty, as always went to her workplace, and her husband followed his daily routine too. A few weeks later, I gave birth at home to a baby girl. It was a quiet Saturday morning, around 8:20am. Aunty had already left for work, but her husband was around, and he had called their doctor. When the baby arrived, he rushed to a boutique and returned with beautiful gowns for me, his way of showing care in the middle of my pain and vulnerability. But that tiny moment of kindness turned into a storm. When Aunty returned that evening, fury lit her face. She raged at her husband, accusing him bitterly, "Why would you buy her anything?" That same evening, around 6pm, visitors began arriving at their home to welcome the new baby. But no one really acknowledged me, the girl who had just given birth. The very next day, they moved me to...

Episode 5: He would creep into my room under the cover of darkness, the same way shadows crawl silently across the walls. I knew what was coming when aunty handed me that same cup of tea with the strange drug. It numbed me, body and soul. And though the pain of what he did was unbearable, I’d rather drift into that fog than feel every cruel thrust while wide awake. At least in sleep, I could pretend I wasn’t there. One morning, the doctor examined me and said something that sent a chill down my spine "Her private part is still too tight. She might need a C-section." I was a virgin. I was a virgin remembered?. That truth clung to my heart like a scream that no one could hear. Aunty's solution? She increased the drug dosage, claiming it would help my body “open up” and make childbirth easier. I believed her. I thought they were helping me. Now, he came three times a week. Regular. Scheduled. Expected. The drugs dulled the pain, so I took them without resistance....