Stop Daddy, I’m only 8 years old Part II

By Tomika Smith / Interviewed & Edited by Kim Gibson

On March 27, 1992 my father was charged for his crimes against me. He refused to admit to what he had done to me, and the trial was pure torture. The defense lawyers pulled all the tricks to paint him as the victim and make me look bad. They even went so far as to remind the court that I’m not his biological daughter – as if that made the things he did to me somehow more acceptable!

He was charged with rape and incest. But out of the eight years that I was abused he was only charged for the two times that I could name a specific date. The only reason I could remember those two dates was because they were personally significant to me – one was on Christmas day and the other was when my mother was in the hospital.

God is good and justice prevailed. He was found guilty and eventually sentenced to 55 years. None of the neighbors knew the details. They though he went to prison for drug dealing, something he was also guilty of.

By this time I was 15 and since he was in prison I could finally look forward to my senior year of high school. I wanted to go to college and escape from the nightmare of my home life. But I wasn’t free yet. He made harassing phone calls, and told me that it would never happen. I once asked him if he thought I was going to spend the rest of my life in the hellhole that he made our home. He actually said, “Yes, you are”.

By this time I knew that God had a plan for my life – even if I couldn’t see it yet. I wanted to go to school and get my life in order but I couldn’t help thinking about the trouble that the rest of my family faced. My father’s family was all on his side. Some of them claimed that I made up this story because I was angry about not getting a car. Who would go through the humiliation of this kind of trial just to drive a car? My grandfather said that he wasn’t angry with me, but that he was angry because I “aired dirty laundry in front of white people”. (Misguided as it is, this is often a common concern in the black community.)

At one point he received a settlement from another court case he was involved in. He used the money to bail himself out of jail and hire more and better defense attorneys. During the time he was free he wanted to stay with his brother. My uncle refused to allow him to sleep in the house, even though he claimed my father was innocent of the charges. This confused and upset me since I know it was because he didn’t want my father to be around his own daughter.

My uncle did however allow my father to use his car. And he used it to try to run my mother off the road when he spotted her at a gas station one day. I am so thankful that mother was a good enough driver to avoid getting hurt. So, he was arrested and once again off the streets and out of my life. Or so I thought.

Shortly after that I was involved in a very serious accident. Everyone told me that I was lucky to have survived. But I know it wasn’t only luck. God was still looking out for me. The day after I was released from the hospital I received a call from my father from the jail. He told me that he had heard about the accident, and that he thought I should have died. He believed this because in his opinion I had been nothing but trouble for my mother since the day I was born.

At this point my self-esteem was so low that I believed it. I attempted suicide. I wrote a letter to a friend and then took an overdose. When my friend read the letter she did everything possible to keep me conscious until help arrived. I know now that the devil was trying to get me, but God already had me. I was saved.

When I was 16 and a senior in high school I was finally able to enjoy school and learning. My grades improved and I even made the honor roll, but I was still having trouble due to the excessive absences caused by court appearances. I was glad that my father was in prison and out of my life, but I still felt guilty for feeling that way.

I know that the prayers of so many people, including my great-grandmother and my new pastor, are all that saved me. There really is no substitute for a spiritual family. The appeal was almost over and I finally began to believe that “this too shall pass”.

But life is hard. Even though I knew God was working on me and for me, the old doubts, insecurities and troubles were still there. The things that happen when we are young still affect us later in life. I became promiscuous and started drinking. I had very little respect for myself and none for the boys I dated. These were nice guys but I had no concern for their feelings. I was in college, but it was simply party time for me. After all I had been through, I was only interested in partying. I just didn’t care. My mother tried to warn me that someone would eventually give me back what I was giving out, but I refused to believe it. I was angry at the world and I didn’t care who I hurt or what I did.

During my freshman year I became pregnant by a man I knew from my hometown. I cried and wondered why I was messing up my life yet again. I knew I couldn’t take care of a child because I was just barely able to take care of myself. And I also knew that there was still a lot of hatred in my heart.

I further complicated the situation by not immediately telling the father of my baby that I was pregnant. I decided instead to be with another man I knew. When I told the new man that I was pregnant, he was so happy that he wanted to say the baby was his. His only condition was that I couldn’t see the baby’s father anymore. Shortly after we came up with that plan I did tell the baby’s father that I was pregnant but that I was going to raise the baby on my own. He was upset because he wanted to be involved in his child’s life.

The one good thing that came out of this was that I managed to quit drinking for my baby’s health. The bad thing was that I discovered that my new man was not a good person. I found out that he was also a drug dealer. At first it didn’t seem like such a bad thing because I had always been around people like that. All the girls I knew wanted bad boys, and I had one. But then my mother’s words came back to me, reminding me that I had used people and now I was being used. My baby was stillborn.

Today I know that God is good. It was difficult but I completed my education. I have my Bachelors degree in Business Administration and a Masters degree in Management. And I can now thank God for all the trials of my life because they built up my character and made me into the woman I am today.


About Tomika
Tomika Smith, daughter of Darlaine Smith. She is a sister, friend and most important - a true believer in the Master - Jesus Christ She has a desire to fulfill the purpose that God has for her life and to give hope to the hopeless.You can reach Tomika at tomikasmith@comcast.net

About the Interviewer & Editor
Kim Gibson, wife, mother, believer in Jesus Christ and always striving to do His will. Her passion is to extend the same Agape love Christ has for the world to others and hope that the pages and chapters in my life are a blessing to others. Contact her at kgibson@breatheagain.org