But in reality, his father was a monster. The truth about his father will just break him. The truth had broken me. The truth had brought unspeakable misery into my life. I had a hard time digesting the truth.
I dont want my son to go through what I had experienced. My son must be protected from the truth at any cost. He must not suffer for the sins of his father.
My son has never met his father. His father died before I had given birth to him. So it was easy for me to paint a picture of lies about his father. My son believes every word that I told him.
Nobody in this town had met his father. When I arrived at this town, I was a pregnant widow looking for a job and for a new life. I lied about myself. I created a different identity. I had to. If they had known the truth, they would have probably made me and my son outcasts. They would probably have spat in our faces. They wouldnt want a family of a convict to live within their community.
****
The first time I met his father was at a teacher training college. Slowly, we became more than friends. The moment we graduated, we tied the knot. It was only after two years did I learn that the man I married was a monster.
He had been molesting his students. His secret was exposed when one of the students, Bobby, made a complaint to the headmaster. My husband was arrested. At first, I doubted the charges against my husband.
There was no way a loving man like my husband can harm innocent children, I told the police.
Later, it became difficult for me to believe in his innocence. The evidence against his crime was overwhelming. Bobby managed to reveal some intimate details about my husbands penis - there is a certain dark patch on his penis.
Bobbys confession had given courage to other children to come forward and speak against my husband. In his two years as a teacher, my husband had molested 30 of his students.
Out of shame, my husband committed suicide while in prison. He was found hanging in the lock-up. I wondered what happened to shame when he was performing the unspeakable acts on his students. Perhaps, my husband was more ashamed of getting caught compared with actually committing the acts.
The town folk felt that my husband had escaped punishment far too easily by committing suicide. They wanted my husband to suffer behind the four walls of the prison.
Rapists get raped in prison, he told me.
I wanted your husband to be raped. Your husband was one lucky bastard. He escaped misery. God has denied me the pleasure of seeing your husband in misery. I have lost faith in God.
The man who said those harsh words to me was a father of one of the children that my husband had violated. In their eyes, justice was denied. They were furious and frustrated beyond words. They directed their anger at me.
Where ever I went, they flung insults at me. Shopkeepers refused to serve me. I was not allowed to enter the church. None of my friends wanted to have anything to do with me. I had to pay for his sins.
The headmaster hinted that it was best if I resigned. Parents were threatening not to send the children to school if I was still working. Society is unforgiving when the crime involves innocent children. When I learnt that I was pregnant, I decided to leave town. I didnt want to subject my son to their anger.
I went to a new town where nobody knew who I was who my husband was. To this day, my son has no clue that I have been lying to him all these years. Looking back, I have no regrets telling those lies. For the sake of my sons happiness, those lies were necessary. Even on my dying bed, I would not tell my son the truth about his father. I will carry his fathers crime to my grave.
****
My father was a soldier who died while protecting this country My father was a warriorMy father was a hero My father was a great man And I am nothing like my father. I am evil I am despicable I am disgustingI am a monster.
I dare not show my real face to anyone. I wear a mask. I pretend to be good. The world hates people like me. They have no mercy for people like me. They believe people like me should be burnt to death. I do not blame them. If I was normal like them, I would probably feel the same way.
But I am not normal. I rob children of their innocence. I use children to satisfy my lust. I did not want to become a monster that everyone hates. I tried to change I tried to be normal I tried to be decent I tried to control my urges But I failed miserably.
The monster in me refuses to disappear. I am a tortured soul. I hate myself. I want to kill myself. But killing yourself is not easy. It takes tremendous strength to end ones life.
****
I lost my virginity at the age 18 to a 10-year-old boy. His name was Jason. He lived next door to me. Jason came from a broken family. His father had just disappeared. His mother could not cope with the pain of the abandonment. His mother crumbled. His mother drank to forget her pain.
I hate it when my mother gets drunk, Jason said.
She gets violent. She makes a fool of herself.
His drunk mother had stood on her porch a few times, shouting obscenities for everyone to hear. Once, his mother did a strip dance on her lawn. Then, completely naked, she lifted one leg in the air and start urinating, like a dog pissing at a lamp post. Jason cringed in shame, watching the antics of his drunken mother.
Sometimes, I wish my mother was dead, Jason said.
Jason loved hanging out in our house. My mother and I were kind to him.
I love your house because there is happiness here, Jason said to me.
Jason hungered for love and attention. And I fulfilled what Jason craved for. I was his mother. I was his father. I was his best friend. I was his play mate. I was his lover. Jason did not have any objection satisfying my lust. We were touching each other in places we should not be touching.
You love me and it is only fair, I love you back, Jason said, innocently.
For the longest time, Jason was my secret lover. But the older Jason got, the less I was fascinated with him. Then, one day, I no longer had the desire to touch Jason any more.
I wish I could stay as a child forever, so you will love me forever, Jason said.
The night I stopped loving Jason was the last night of Jasons life. His mother found Jason hanging from the ceiling in his room. Fear was dancing in my bones when I first heard Jasons death. I was afraid that in his suicide note, he would tell the world about me about our love story.
I was imagining the worst case scenario I would be caught I would be sent to prison Prisoners hate rapists . Prisoners would make my life miserable between the four walls. Prisoners would rape me repeatedly
But Jason did not mention me. In his suicide note, all he wrote was: Why has everyone stopped loving me
His mother was convinced she had driven Jason to suicide. One night, in a drunkard manner, his mother walked to nearest beach. She threw all her clothes on the sand. Completely naked, she walked into the sea and drowned. She wrote in her suicide note: In heaven, I will be a better mother to my son.
****
Since Jasons death, I decided that I would never take the risk of touching children in my neighborhood and in my country. If I get caught, I will bring shame to my mother.
I travelled overseas to satisfy my lust. I went to countries where the child sex industry thrives .Where the authorities closed their eyes to predators like me.Where chances for me to be caught are unlikely.
Once, my mother did ask me why I was travelling so often. I painted a picture of lies. I told her, as a businessman, I was looking for business opportunities in these countries. My mother believes every word that I tell her. I pray that my mother never learns the truth about me. The truth will only break her. No mother wants a paedophile as a son. My mother must be protected from the truth at any cost. She must not suffer for the sins of her son. I must carry the truth to my grave.
