I struggled to conceive for many years, when I was 35 I finaly conceived. I then gave birth to a baby boy. He was born mute and blind, but I was happy to have the fruit of my womb.
His disability meant nothing to me, I loved and adored him. However his father abondoned us. He emphasized that he could never ever birth a disabled child therefore the child isn't his.
I had a deaf little sister so basically he blamed my family genes. I decided to then move out of my matrimonal home and move back home with my uncle's wife.
My uncle's wife lived at my grandparents house, my mom never had a house of her own so home for us was my grandparents house. My aunt wasn't very fond of me. She accused me of wanting to take her home away from her since my uncle died.
I found a special school for my child so that I can continue going to work. He was seven. I would drop him off at school and fetch him everyday at the care center around 4:30 everyday. I knocked off at 4.
Months went by and I realised that my son was becoming distant and he always looked scared. It was like he was scared of something that was always lingering around. When it was bed time he would always cry and would beg me to hold him till he fell asleep.
He was no longer the independent little Champ that I knew. He was too dependent on me and that stressed me a lot. But my aunt convinced me that it might be the new school and that he will soon get used to it. I must just give him time.
Another thing I realised is that when ever my aunt would walk into the room, my son would jump in fear as soon as he could smell her scent. I didn't think much of it.
I realised that every morning when I wake my son up,he always have something that's odd on him. It could either be his hair would have sand, or bit of dry leaves and sometimes his feet would just be dirty.
Which I found very weird because I'd bathe him every evening before bed. I got super worried when one morning I woke him up and his mouth and nose was smeared with blood.
I checked for cuts on him but there was none. I obviously was never gonna be able to explain to him what I am seeing or even get an explanation from him. But this bothered me a lot.
I told my aunt about this, we were trying our best to make our relationship work so I would open up to her about things. She said maybe he ate something in his sleep, like a rat or something.
But it didn't make sense because if he ate it in his sleep then there would be remains of the rat. Did I mention that he was really dirty on that day?
One morning around 5am I heard a lot of commotion outside, I peeked out the window and I saw a lot of people at our gate and I ran out without even checking on my son.
The community had my son and he was not dressed. I couldn't believe my eyes,I ran back into the house and my son was not there. I didn't understand what was happening. The community was very angry, my son was bleeding and crying.
It looked like they had beaten him up. I pleaded with them to let him go, I tried apolgising but they said they would let him go if only I explain to them what he was doing at people's houses at night undressed.
I didn't even know what was happening, I had no answers. I ran to my aunt who was also at the gate and she turned her back on me. I can still hear her voice telling the community that I am a witch and I've been pretending that my son has special needs by the day but at night he is something else.
She further told them to get into the house and search my room as they will find shocking things there. She opened the gate for them and they pushed to get into the house and she showed them my room.
I still don't know what exactly was found in there that angered the community so much. My son and I were stoned, I tried covering him up but it was all too much for him.
My aunt must have set us up. We were saved by the police but my son gave in to death two days in hospital. I survived but I am dead inside. My body is alive but my soul died with my son.
I've never went back to that place again, I left my son at the hospital mortuary and never went back for him. I was never gonna be able to afford burying him.
I don't know where my son was buried, it's been 9 years and not a day passes by without me thinking about him. The lord gave and the lord took.
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