My mother's family is extremely close, my father's is as
well but I don't quite think they come anywhere near to the bonds which exist
within my mother's family. I spent the greater part of my life at the home of
my maternal grandparents, so much so that my grandmother counts me as her ninth
child and not the eldest grand. My grandfather was a wonderful man but were it
not for my grandmother's influence in his life things may have been different.
She instilled in her three sons and five daughters excellent work ethics and a
positive attitude towards life. My grandparents advocated for education and
ensured their children were never cheated of any opportunities to excel. They
also identified in their children respective strengths and weaknesses and
encouraged them in areas where the strengths would be utilized and weaknesses would
not be a hindrance.
As the years went by my aunts and uncles began spreading out
into the world, some migrated while others remained in Trinidad but moved to
other communities. One aunt in particular got married to a friend of an uncle
who was from Gasparillo. When he was first introduced to my family he was by
the contemporary definition, full of swag. He was always dressed to the nines
and well embellished with gold jewellery. A few years after marriage however my
uncle came to consider Jesus as His personal Lord and Saviour. He became a
religious fanatic almost overnight. He gave all of his jewellery to the church,
my aunt had to do the same. She went from wearing about five earrings in each
ear to none at all. The church they began attending didn't believe women should
wear makeup or trousers and as such my aunt now had to don skirts at every
occasion. My second generation Christian grandparents accepted this new change
with a grain of salt. My uncle would express his views on our particular
"Christianity' and try to indoctrinate my family into his supposedly far
superior form. He was also actively involved in his church's leadership and had
started developing a close relationship with his pastor.
I believe it were for my aunt's sake my family tolerated my
uncle's fanaticism. Because of the closeness aforementioned which existed
within my family and the proximity of Gasparillo to my family's home in New
Grant they would visit almost every weekend. Yet in spite of the frequency of
their visits we were always encouraged to hug and kiss my uncle, aunt and as
time passed, my two younger female cousins. This I did with no hesitation or
reservations whatsoever. I was always overjoyed to see my uncle, aunt and
cousins. This changed suddenly one unexpected day.
Living at my grandparent's home wasn't as luxurious as some
may think some days. This due to their passion over education. My eldest uncle
still lived at home as well and he was a teacher, so this didn't help make my
childhood any easier. I was sometimes confined to the room to do revision when
the younger ones were allowed to roam free. On one such occasion my aunt and
family was visiting from Gasparillo. My grandparents used to have a very open
door policy at their home and although I shared a bed from time to time with my
grandmother, no one was restricted from any part for any reason. As had become
usual practice from the time I entered Standard Five, I was in the room,
revising. This was also around the time I entered into puberty. My uncle, the
religious fanatic, the one who was vehemently opposed to the idea of women
wearing jewellery, make up and pants, the uncle who proclaimed to know all
about God and Jesus, yes that very same uncle, entered the room.
I was lying on the bed casually, I remember it vividly and I
know that there was nothing provocative or suggestive about the way I was lying
there reading my book and trying to internalize my work so that I could get to
go play with the others. My uncle or rather my aunt's husband ( I cringe even
to this day at the term of endearment in reference to him) he came over to me,
leaned over me and began caressing my feminine private parts. Words cannot
truly express the shock which clouded my brain. I couldn't even bring myself to
tell him to stop it. I couldn't scream or call out to anyone. "Your aunt
told me you started your period." he said. "You getting to be a big
girl now." "Let me kiss you like a big girl." The initial shock
hadn't even worn off and before I could even breathe the lecherous man stuck
his tongue into my mouth. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever
experienced in my life, even to this day. Almost as abruptly as he had entered
the room, he left.
I lay there, ashamed of myself. I felt as though I had done
something to deserve what had happened. No-one had told me anything about good
touches and bad touches and as such I wasn't particularly sure if I had
deserved such treatment. What I did know is the fact that I wasn't sure if I
were to say anything if anyone would believe me. After all, my uncle was a
Christian and very involved in church. A mixture of uncertainty, fear and shame
prevented me from saying anything. I started avoiding my uncle however and any
chance to have physical contact was met with absolute opposition. No one could
understand my apparent change in disposition and it was brushed aside as
hormonal. I made a concerted effort to avoid any chance of being alone with my
uncle. But there were a few other times where I unavoidably ended up alone with
him and again he fondled me in what he called a 'big girl' way and kissed me as
well. I eventually threatened to tell my grandmother, which to this day I have
never done and he stopped.
He continued being a part of church and they continued
visiting as the years went by. I never bore my aunt or cousins in mind but
would make numerous excuses to avoid them when they came or if anyone decided
to go Gasparillo to visit them. I wonder sometimes, if my mind has conjured up
those events and if my imagination has led me to believe that they truly
occurred. Years later my uncle while working as an engine room attendant on
board a tug boat, got his hand unexplainably caught in between the gears and he
got three fingers on one hand crushed. I
wondered to myself then if this were the Lord's way of extracting vengeance for
the wrongs done by those very hands. Further to that, a while later both his
kidneys failed rather unexpectedly and in a matter of days he died.
To say that I wasn't somewhat happy when my uncle died would
be a lie. I was saddened by his demise if for the sake of my aunt and two young
cousins who would now have to grow up fatherless. But I had no remorse, all
that played and replayed in my mind was the disgusting ordeal I had to endure
as a result of his licentious ways. At the funeral everyone cried
uncontrollably. How could God be so unfair and unjust to take such a righteous
man away so prematurely from his family? I shed no tears, I stood stone faced
and stone hearted in wonder at the Lord extraction of justice.
No comments:
Post a Comment