Back to My Story

I break the Best-interest-of-the-child series to  again tell my story as a way of encouraging someone, who may need to hear this story for the purpose of restoration.

I have lived in the last 15 years ‘to bring to the very front burner of private and public conscience and consciousness the rights and responsibilities of the African child for due respect in the best interest of the child.’

I must say with all humility that I have not been disobedient to this heavenly mandate. As a matter of fact my obedience has not been without priceless sacrifices. Again no matter how sacrificial my obedience has been, I do not count it to be anything because necessity is laid upon me…woe unto me if I do not stand and defend the cause of the African child.

Why is necessity laid upon me? It is a long story but I will cut it short this way: I was a victim of child abuse. There are four ways a child could be abused; I suffered them all in abundance. As I have said at many fora, my childhood was a bountiful basket of abuses. I was abused physically in the name of disciplined. I was abused sexually as I lost my virginity at the age of 6 to a neighbour, a woman, who my mother left me with when she went to the market. I was abused emotionally as I was chastised for everything I did wrong and never commended for anything I did right.

Many abusive and wrong words were said to me. At age nine, my teacher in school had nickednamed me Satan or the devil when I lost a friend during our favourite game of tree climbing. Unknown to my handlers, they did not know that fact that for every one wrong word you say to a child, you need seventeen to correct it. I was abused by neglect. My handlers were not available to lead me. My father died at the age of 82 when I was 39, I cannot remember him sitting down to instruct me on how to handle any issue of life. I grew up with any knowledge of life skills. Unfortunately, I followed the pattern of lives of my handlers, which was not anything but disciplined.

I was on the path of destruction until age 27 when I gave my life to Christ and He began to make all the difference in my life. In my expression of gratitude to God for coming to my rescue, I answered His call to tell my story of childhood abuse, rescue and hope. I call it story, senses (principles and lessons) and stone (instructions). I accepted the responsibility that the world has a lot to learn from my story on how to train children. For me, If do not live to tell this story; I am not fit to live.

If I stop telling my story, then just know that I signed up for suicide. I am therefore not a Child’s Rights Advocate as people call me, I am a witness. I am a steward and trustee of the message of hope for a great future for our children. For me, the law is not a profession, it is a platform. I am therefore the voice of a Street Advocate, crying in the wilderness, saying give our children a hope and a future.

I am also committed to helping those who experienced one form of abuse or the other to start a new life as God helped me to. I am committed to helping them to see that they can take responsibility for their lives today and that they cannot continue to reproduce themselves in their children and others in their areas influence. The bulk must stop at their table as they must as matter of a commitment to save humanity begin a new generation. God having helped me to a good level, I can say that the task of shaking off the impact of wrong upbringing is a seemingly impossible task. It requires, first of all the help of God and the commitment of the victim to God and change.

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