I became too weak and pale from being daddy's sex plough and mummy's home robot. - Housemaid/Help Confides

House helps/maids are very instrumental to homes where both couples are career or business people.  The management of the house is entrusted to their care, while the owners are busily working hard to make ends meet, and also pay their maids to better their lives. But is that the practical case in most homes today?. 

In Thatcher and You for Real t
oday, we shall be talking to some girls, who have been victim of violence from their bosses, and those who have been blessed through the profession as well.

Our first guest is 19 years old Rachel, whose aunt took her from the village at 17, and brought her to work at her friend's house as a resident maid. Rachel says she lived hell on earth, during her two years stay in Douala as a maid. Read her experience:

“I was excited when Aunti Ijang came to the village and informed me that we shall be travelling to the  big city together, because her colleague needed a resident maid.

I had finished primary seven at the Government Primary School Batibo two years before, passed list A in the Common Entrance, and scored high in the First School Leaving Certificate. Dad died when I was five, and mum was the only support for me, Gerald my twin, Miyang my elder sister and Ngang the benjamin of the family.

Aunti Ijang said her colleague would send me to evening classes of the secondary school when schools resume, and will  be paying me 15.000F CFA monthly, while I work for her.

Mum and the others were very happy as we thanked God for such an opportunity. I promised mum I will be of my best behavior, and left with my aunt on the 14th of August 2015.

I was above 17 years old when I left the village, and was so excited to go to the big city of Douala for my first time. 

We arrived aunti Ijang's house on the 15th at 6 a.m, and the sight of the beautiful houses in the city, the ships I saw while crossing over the Wouri bridge, made me excited with big dreams.

I promised myself  I will work very hard at home and in school so that when I get older, I will have enough money to bring my mum and rest to Douala.

At about 6.p.m that day, a lady came to aunti Ijang's house and they chatted for long, before she called and introduced me to the lady, informing me that the woman will henceforth become my mother, as I will be staying with her, as agreed before I left the village.

The lady carried me in her car and we went to her house in the  Bonamoussadi neighborhood.

While in the car, she asked everything about my family, which I explained, and she promised I will never regret accepting to stay and work for with her. 

Once in her compound, she asked me to carry my bag, and as we entered into the living room she presented me to her household as the new maid. 

She is married, and has three children, of 3, 5 and 8 years respectively.

She took me into a carton-like square space, with an old flat foam on the floor and said that was my room. It wasn’t bad at least because in the village we slept on empty bamboo beds in the kitchen. 

Her husband works in a big company, and she herself  is a Custom Officer. 

The next day mummy stayed at home, to show me what I will be doing while in her house. 

She gave me an endless list of dos and don'ts.

Being a fast learner, I quickly adapted to my life, and automatically became a home robot.

Mummy was lazy and shabby. She will pile her dirty undies, some blood stained pants that has turned green, together with that of daddy, for me to wash. Washing someone else's blood was not easy, but that was in my job description, and I had no choice.

It was still holidays, but my day started at 5:00 am and ended at 11 P:M from Mondays to Sundays.

I obeyed all mummy's rules to the letter, and where I made a mistake she would insult me, curse my widow mother and late father, and call me all sort of names. I ignored everything she did or said to make me angry, because my focus was my future.

Schools reopened, and the tasks doubled. I had to bath the kids, feed them, prepare their lunch boxes, and take them to the bus pick up point at the road before 6:30 a.m. When the bus leaves, I will rush back home to carter for mummy and daddy's breakfast and other needs, before they leave for work.

Since I had not known how to cook their city food, mummy made it a habit that every weekend, we would cook variety of soup, and keep in the deep freezer. That way according to the daily menu, I will only have to remove what is on the list, warm it and prepare the necessary compliment to go with it.

There were days when I had to go to the market with 2000 Frs to either buy cocoyam, plantains or whatever compliment I was to cook.

Since I did not have the right to breakfast,  I will bargain with the market women so that I can buy cheaper, use the savings I made through the bargain to buy beignet and ginger drink for myself.

12:45 p.m on weekdays was the time she called the home phone, to instruct that I heat the soup and cook the compliment. When I finish in the kitchen, I will rush to the roadside to wait for the school bus to bring the kids and take them back home.

She called every 3:30 p.m to make sure that I had fed and put them to sieste. That is when she will authorize me to eat.

When they both returned from work in the evening,  I will warm and serve their food, wash their cars that night and wait for them to sleep before I go to bed.

I had lost weight, and worse of all, aunti Ijang never came around to check on me or my welfare. She so much trusted mummy that she believed I was in paradise. I began worrying because it was already December, and nobody mentioned my going to school.

I bold up courage one evening,  and asked mummy in the presence of daddy about when I was to start school. She scolded me, and asked  how long I have worked that I wanted to go to school. She said if my wretched village mother knew that school was important, she shouldn't have sent me to come and  finish up all the food in her house?.

That night,  I cried like never before. I prayed to God, asked if He was alive and seeing what am being subjected to. I fought between sleep and deep thoughts, and feel asleep at about 5 h 00. I was suddenly woken by the coldness of a bucket of ice cold water poured on me. It was mummy she screamed to the top of her voice and dragged me outside with insults and slaps. I knew I was wrong. The kids were to be late for school because I had overslept for 30 minutes and begged her for forgiveness.

It was daddy who came to my rescue that morning, or else she would have beaten the living daylight off me. She angrily went to the kitchen to help fix the lunch boxes for the kids, while I bathe and dressed them up crying and sniffing.
That morning, the kids had their breakfast in the bus because they were late. 

She called aunti Ijang to come and kill me. She told all sorts of stories about me. Aunti Ijang did not even want me to hear me out, and warned sternly that she would post me back to the village I came from, if mummy ever complains about me again. She reminded me of how I was suffering in the village, with my poverty stricken mother, before she came to my rescue. She said everything wrong about my late father. I thought of talking back at her, but I was not brought up to disrespect elders, so I had nothing else to do than cry my life away.

Things continued to go worse for me, but I persevered as she paid my money monthly without complain (at least she was good at that one). After my first year in the city, I sent 100.000 FCFA to the village, to mum and my siblings, and kept the balance with me.

On my 19th birthday I informed mummy and daddy about it, because they have the habit of celebrating everyone's  birthday in the house. Daddy was at home and gave me money to buy chicken and fry for myself and the kids, and also bought us drinks. He authorized me to sit in the dining and eat(in one of her don'ts, mummy said I shouldn't sit on the coaches in the living room nor in the dinning room, and that if I wanted to watch TV, I will seat on the floor, on a mat she bought for me). We were still enjoying the chicken and soft drinks when mummy walked in and all hell break loose. She thundered in anger at the sight of me eating with her family on the dinning table, took my plate of food and threw it to the dog. She screamed as if I had pooed on me, and was stinking bad that I could not sit with her family.

Daddy got upset and slapped her in front of us all, and stormed out of the house in anger, and warning her strongly that the maltreatment she was giving me must stop.

As he left, she punched me hard as if she was fighting with a man, beat me the broom stick, rained hard insults on me, spat on me shouted at how I had carried my rotten smelling body of a bush dog to come and infect her living room. That I smelled like trash and all sorts of terrible things. Oh God!. That was too much for me. I knew I was a village girl, but I was very neat even in my village attire, and my presence had changed the hygienic condition of her home. 

Thank God the next day was a Saturday, so everyone was at home. I fell seriously sick all night, and didn’t know who to call. I was afraid I might die. I couldn’t leave my room. My entire body ached and there was blood clot in my eyes from mummy's slaps. 

In the morning, I heard her shouting Rachel, Rachel, Rachel, I couldn’t answer because my voice was choked in pains and fever, and then she started her insults again and bashed opened my door with her hand lifted up to hit me, when daddy came from behind and held her.

Daddy asked me to go and shower, when he discovered I was burning with fever and he took me to a nearby health center, where I spent almost four days on admission. Upon discharge, mummy threatened to deduct all she had spent on me in the hospital from my salary and that she was not done with me yet.

I persevered all through, because my family back home needed the money I came to work in the city.

Then one evening, mummy called to say she was attending a friend’s wake keeping service and won’t be coming home early. Daddy was at home and after I had put the children to bed, he bolted all the doors and invited me to the living room. He told me how hardworking I was and how he was sorry for the wife’s attitude towards me.

Before I could say a word he started kissing and undressing me and what I felt later was his  175 kg weight on me as he struggled to tear into virgin vulva, forcing his large cock into me, and took away every dignity I had preserved for 19 years as young woman. He stole my pride, as I helplessly begged in vain.

When he was done, he begged me to remain silent, that he was sorry and didn't want to me. He gave me  50.000F CFA, telling me to use it and buy whatever I wanted.

I was too shocked and in pains to even cry. He gave me some tablets to swallow after satisfying his lust, and promised that if I remained a good girl by sealing my lips, he would send me to school, with or without mummy's consent.

From  that day, he started coming back home early enough, at  times even before the kids closed from school, and we did it time after  time again.

I became too weak and pale from being daddy's sex plough and mummy's home robot.

Then my condition changed, and I became sick. After medical examinations, I was discovered pregnant.

Mummy called aunti Ijang, and together they both beat the living day light off me until I fainted. They threatened to lock me up if I didn't tell them the author of my pregnancy, but I remained tight lip.

Mummy and aunti Ijang arranged a date to take me back to the village. I couldn't imagine what will happen if my poor mother in the village found out about my pregnancy. She would die of shock. I t was better I told her myself.

I picked up courage, told daddy I will blow the whistle because I was dying. He begged me on his knees talking about his reputation that would be at stake, his marriage, his kids, his home, but God made me to face him courageously, asking him if he was not aware of all the consequences, when he was opening my innocent legs wide to satisfy his stupid senseless desire.. 

He asked me to meet him somewhere the next day, which I did, and he gave me  500.000F CFA, asking me to abort the pregnancy, and use the balance to sponsor myself or start any petty trade.

I ran away from the house with everything I had, and at the time of telling my story, I am still pregnant, and will not abort. I am going back to the village to face my mum, because I don't know what will happen to her instead, if she finds out I am no longer with my madam, and the reason I left. 

I will tell her the story when I will be in front of her, and beg her to forgive me. I might start selling in the market with the money I have, and save some.

As for mummy, I forgive her, but I will call her and her husband after I have put to birth."

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are for general information purposes only. They do not constitute our legal or professional advice. Readers are advised not to act on the basis of the information contained herein alone. Every situation depends on its own facts and circumstances. We accept no responsibility for any loss or damage of whatsoever nature which may arise from reliance on any of the information published herein without consulting a professional legal practitioner.

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