UNCLE TAYOS ROOM: What We Didn’t Know Was Happening Behind the Door

Theme: Body Safety & Family Silence

I was about nine when I first noticed something strange.

Uncle Tayo was like a family fixture. He was always around. Not really our uncle, but everyone called him that. He lived in the boys’ quarters behind our compound and had a room filled with comic books, action figures, and candy.

All the kids loved Uncle Tayo. He played football with us, bought birthday gifts, and was the first to carry crying babies before their mums could reach them.

But my friend Chika never smiled around him.
She avoided his gaze. She refused to go into his room, even when the other children went joyfully.
Once, I asked her why.

She just said, “I don’t like how he looks at me.”

I wish I had known then what I know now.

Years later, Chika sat across from me at a women’s retreat. Grown now, married with kids. And she shared her story; raw, trembling.

Uncle Tayo had been touching her. Silencing her. For years.

He didn’t wear a monster’s face. He wore a helper’s mask.

And the saddest part?

The adults never noticed. The children never knew what to say. The silence was louder than the screams.

🧠 Reflection:

We teach our kids to say “Thank you.”
We teach them to pray.
We teach them to greet elders.
But do we teach them how to say “No”?

Do we teach them that even Uncle Tayo needs permission?

Or that “family friend” is not a free pass to a child’s trust?

🛡️ Family Nest Call-to-Action:

As you read this, I want you to do three things today:
1. Review who has access to your child when you’re not looking.
2. Teach your child the correct names of their body parts and how to set boundaries.
3. Let them know they can tell you anything and you will listen, not punish.

🙏 A Prayer for Today:

Lord, give us eyes to see what the enemy hides.
Help us protect our children, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually.
Break the silence where it has settled.
Give every child the courage to speak.
And every parent the humility to hear.