“Protection. That is what she promised me when she picked me up from my house of hell, the orphanage. It wasn’t really called the house of hell, I called it that because that is what it was. I never really did fit in there, I was too broken, too betrayed to trust anyone, yet when she came, I warmed up to her instantly. The matron was pleased to see a change in my attitude and daily norm so much so that she didn’t complain when my supposed angel signed the adoption papers. I was so happy, I felt free, breathing in the air beyond the house of hell gates and for the first time in a long time, I let my guard down. I convinced myself somehow that this was the only way I’d ever be happy with her. So I let my guard down. We got into her car and left, with me looking back one last time at the place that had been my home for 12 years. I was 15 by the time she came for me.
After driving for three hours we came to a stop and boy did my jaw fall on the floor from the mere sight of that place. It wasn’t anything like she had said and it was definitely never going to be home. I wished I would go back to the orphanage but I couldn’t. And even if I could get out of this place, I had slept all the way here. I still remember the relief and caged feeling storming me at once when I realized what was waiting for me. It was a bar for men only and for a moment I was glad I would have males like me around me, and that the probability of the lady molesting me was minimal after all. What I did not know was that I was going to be their pleasure tool, something I did not understand because surely men did not bed boys without their consent, or did they? I watched the lady drag me to a room at the far end of the bar because that was where she was going to complete the transaction. I was sold. For a hundred Kenyan grand. And I had no say in it whatsoever. My fate was sealed. And I had no say. For the fifth time that day, I wished I stayed in the orphanage. I was to start work the next day, at 15 years I was sold to a gay brothel.
My protection was never existent. I was just a young boy who had lost a future, that too in a homophobic country. The first day was scary, it still gives me nightmares to date. There was two of them, and one of me. Me who was naïve, who never had a s#x life. Me who had never known anything about intercourse. I was supposed to satisfy two huge men. I’m not going to say what happened or retell it because whatever it was, stripped me of my virginity, my soul, my freedom, my ability to trust, it stripped me of me. But it never stopped because to them I was just something they bought, on some days they brought in women, on others it was just them. Different faces every morning and night, and it never got better. Eventually after six years I found a way out, that’s for another day.
I was broken, I have been broken, ruined, and nothing can change whatever happened. I don’t know if you wanted an experience or a lesson. I’m not going to tell your readers anything positive, and for that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to sugarcoat. There were instances where I wanted to end it all, but I was caught once, and I learnt the hard way not to think of suicide. The thoughts never left, but I never ended it, maybe because I was scared, or maybe because I still had hope that tomorrow was always going to be better, even when I knew tomorrow was just a repeat of today and yesterday. Nothing can change me now, or maybe I’m just being pessimistic, but experience never gave me a choice. All I can say is never let your guard down, walls on walls is better that a hole in the wall. Everybody deserves to be treated humanely.
Goodbye for now.”
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