We sat on the couch watching the movie, The Witcher as Geralt of
Rivia birth in blood. The soundtrack ‘Toss a coin to your witcher, O Valley of plenty…’ was playing at the background, when Deborah’s phone rang.
“Hello, she said” and after about 30 seconds, she dropped the phone. Without saying a word, she stood up, went to the restroom and threw up.
“Is everything okay?” I enquired. She could not talk, she was in tears. I tried all I could to make her stop but she wouldn’t. The more she tried to stop, the more she cried uncontrollably. It seemed like something was triggering the tears. She stood up from the couch and cried to the room. She did not want to speak to me. All she did was wet the pillow with her tears. I left the room, went back to the sitting room. I needed to know who the hell has caused this great sadness to my fiancée.
Olivia was the caller. Olivia is Deborah’s younger sister. She is five years
younger than Deborah. She is a paragon of beauty. Deborah always said Olivia was guarded and spoilt by their father like the way a wealthy philanderer spoils his mistress. She was the jewel of the family. She always got everything she wanted and most importantly, men were not allowed close to her.
I felt like calling Olivia. To ask her what she told Deborah that scattered
our home-cinema moment of ‘the witcher’. Yes, I must ask.
“Hello Olivia, it’s me Tobe”, I said from my side of the call. Olivia was crying, from the other end of the phone. “What is happening? Did anyone die? Olivia talk to me please, what is wrong? Deborah won’t talk to me. Can you please tell me what the problem is? Did we lose anyone?”
Puuuu…I heard that sound. She hung up. I went back upstairs.
“Deborah, I’m your fiancee and you should be able to open up to…”
“He did it again,” she said cutting me short.
“I don’t understand”, I said. Who did what again?”
“He raped her again. Daddy raped Olivia again”
The phone fell off my hands. I was dumbfounded.
“Daddy has been raping Olivia since she turned 17. He is a demon in
white. Olivia cannot talk to anyone about it. She is scared. Scared of what the society will say, especially after the Nigerian pastor saga and the way it all went. You know, the everlasting stigma it will come with? Scared of the kind of life she would live? Scared of the family reputation, you know – the children of the man who rapes his daughter; the children of a mother who is too busy with her career and does not know that her beautiful daughter has been turned to a sex toy by her own husband; The victim of child abuse; The…”
“Shhhhhh… Say no more” I said to her and embraced her. This is worse than death. This is cruel; an abomination. Words failed me as I held Deborah in my embrace and a drop of tear fell from my eye unto her hair.
From the room, I could hear the sound of the Witcher’s sword as he killed the enemies of Cintra. If only those enemies of Cintra was my father-in-law. Mtechw, did I just say my father-in-law? That beast is my father-in-law?
The witcher’s soundtrack played again. Closer this time. I could hear it, so closely, like it was in my head.
While the devil’s horn
Minced our tender meat
And so cried the witcher
He can’t be bleat
Toss a coin to your Witcher
Oh, Valley of plenty…
Kill the rapist? End the playlist? …
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