ITS UNFORGETTABLE, MY COUSIN USED JUJU TO SLEEP WITH ME WHEN I VISITED THE VILLAGE -LADY SHARES
I was 22 and went to the village in Imo State for Christmas with my parents like we did every year. My cousin Ugo, who was 28 and lived there permanently, had always been overly nice to me. This time he kept smiling strangely and offering me special drinks “to make me feel at home.”
One night after the family Christmas party, I woke up in my room feeling strange heavy and hot all over. Ugo was on top of me in the dark. My nightgown was already pushed up to my chest. He was inside me, moving slowly but deep, whispering Igbo incantations under his breath. I couldn’t push him off; my body felt weak and strangely willing even though my mind was screaming. He groaned softly as he thrust harder, his sweaty chest pressing against my breasts, until he emptied himself inside me with a long shiver. “You are mine now,” he said before leaving.
The next morning I felt sore and ashamed. It continued throughout the holiday — sometimes at night, sometimes in the bush when he called me to “help fetch something.” Each time I felt like I was under a spell. He would touch me until I was dripping wet, then take me roughly against a tree or on the floor of an uncompleted building, always muttering those strange words.
When I told my mother, she hissed and warned me never to repeat such nonsense. “Ugo is your blood. These things happen during Christmas when spirits are high. Don’t bring quarrel into the family.” My father laughed it off as village girl imagination. Ugo even came to Lagos months later acting normal, and my parents welcomed him with open arms.
I later discovered from an aunt that Ugo had visited a native doctor for “love medicine” to sleep with me. I live with constant fear and disgust. Every Christmas they still ask why I don’t want to visit the village. I see Ugo’s face at every family gathering and feel dirty all over again.
The most painful thing is not even what he did to my body those nights. It’s how my own parents chose family peace and tradition over protecting their daughter from someone who used juju to rape her.
Some family ties are not made of love… they are made of chains, silence, and rituals that no one wants to question.