"I can't pay less than two thousand naira," the man said, looking at the sandal as if it wasn't even worth the amount he wanted to pay.
"Three thousand, sir, that's the last price," I replied to him.
"Wait, you mean you can't reduce the price for me?" He asked, looking at me like I wasn't human.
"Yes sir." I responded to him.
"Where are you even storing that extra money you're putting on your goods." He said, laughing and pointing at my tummy.
I did not understand what he was trying to say. "That's the last price my mom asked me to sell it for; I didn't add any extra to it." I replied.
"With that kind of stomach, it's obvious you're storing some goat soup inside with the gain you get from us." Then he continued, "You want to collect a whole 3k from me with your kind of tummy."
I opened my mouth to talk, but nothing came out.
"Answer me now," he said, smiling, "or is it not food you're supposed to be selling if you're malnourished."
It hit me; at that point his wife stepped out. I even thought she would caution her husband. But she kept mute too.
"I understand you, though; hunger is not good for the body." He continued.
I just bent down, picked up the sandal, packed it back into its nylon, and lifted my basin back on my head.
"Won't you sell for me again," he asked as I turned my back. "Hey, are you not the one I am talking to?"
I just made my way out of his compound and heard him muttering something to his wife; it sounded like, "Children of nowadays have no respect."
I stepped out of his gate into the hustling and bustling of the streets, various teenagers like me also making their way home with wares on their heads; those who sell akara (bean cake) at night were also preparing to begin to fry.
On my way home, I couldn't help but wonder why I didn't shout back at the man, why I didn't explain that it wasn't malnourishment, why I didn't burst into tears, or just let him know he's going overboard. I just kept mute and walked away.
When I got home, my mom was in the kitchen cooking. I just went to the store and dropped the basin. She noticed I wasn't my usual self and called me back.
"What's wrong, dear? How are sales today."
I just stared at her.
"What happened? Talk to me, did money get lost? Did you sell on credit? Or did you fight with someone?" She asked it all as if she was in haste.
I just shook my head.
"Oluwatoyosi, talk to me......"
I didn't let her finish her statement as I withdrew my steps and rushed to my room. I knew she would follow me, so I locked the door behind me.
Well, like I had predicted. She came rushing behind me, got to the door, and found that it was locked.
"Open this door now. Who beat you? Who abused you?"
Inside my room I just sat down on the bed, rested my head against the wall, placed my hands on my stomach, and felt it. What exactly is wrong with me? This is how my tummy has always been. It's always been this kind of big; I couldn't recall the name they called it back then. I do make sure to use the prescribed medicine. I have even undergone one operation. Furthermore, I was asked to come for another, but we didn't go for it due to financial issues.
But what happened on that day was way more painful than the pain the stomach itself has been giving me. It was an insult, a very painful one at that.
While still there, I didn't know when tears began rolling down my face. I wasn't shouting or sniffing; I wasn't even making any sound, but I was really crying, a deep cry.
That day, I knew how loud silence could be.
I didn't know when I slept off. It was the knock on the door that woke me up.
"Open the door" I heard my mom say.
I didn't want to actually, but then I rose up to. Even though inside of me, I already know I won't give her any response.
"Oluwatoyosi, what happened to you? Did someone talk to you anyhow? I know you to be very lovely and all, but you've never returned home with this kind of mood. Tell me what happened?"
Guess what, I didn't talk.
"Is it about you? Were you insulted, or is it about the goods you are helping me hawk?"
I just stared at nothing in particular.
"Well, don't mind what anyone says; humans will always be humans."
I just looked at her. I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell her how my body was used to insult me, I wanted to tell her how I was laughed at, and I wanted to tell her how I really felt. Even still, I said nothing.
The next day, when I returned from school, my mother looked at me and said, "You won't be going today."
"Don't worry about me, Mum; I'll go."
"No, you won't." She replied.
"Allow me, please." I begged her.
"Are you sure about this..." She asked, dragging the last word.
"Yes, Mum."
"It's alright then; just make sure not to let anyone silence you today."
I just smiled at her, even though I really do not understand how to do that, like how to do that without having to disrespect whoever it is.
A few meters away from home, a woman stopped me. She ransacked my wares and eventually picked one.
"How much is this?" She asked
"Two thousand naira, ma," I responded.
"One thousand five," she said, frowning.
"It's two thousand naira, ma."
She looked at me, paid, and asked, "But why are you frowning your face today?"
"Frown? Ohh, it's nothing, I'm fine." I answered.
But sincerely, I wasn't frowning. I had just determined to not be silent anymore. Else, it becomes a habit, and I would continue to swallow my words.
It's been years now, but I still remember that man. I see him almost every time I travel down to my parents place. His house to ours is less than a ten-minute walk.
And each time I see him, I remember the way he talked, how his wife didn't caution him, and how he laughed it off.
Even though I later had to undergo several operations to correct what was wrong, I still remember how I had kept mute and had to cry silently while looking at my tummy.
But then, that silence taught me two things: one, that silence can protect you, and two, that silence can hurt you, bit by bit.
A few weeks ago, I was somewhere, and something happened.
My friend who invited me over tapped me and asked, "Why are you quiet? Don't you like the fun we're having?"
"No," I said, smiling, and continued, this time a little loudly, "I don't like fun and jokes about people's bodies."
Everywhere suddenly changed and went quiet.
It was the simple and honest kind of silence. Before, I'd keep quiet because I was scared, ashamed, and all, but now the silence came because I spoke the truth, and I spoke it to power.
Only first image is AI generated, other images are mine.
Thanks a lot for taking your time to read through, kindly do well to stop by my blog 
❣️❣️❣️
